Awkward Beat [H.S]

Chapter 10

In which academia does not top Fitz's priority list.

Chapter 10

"Chicken club on white!" Thomas' voice rang down the production line.

It was the last week of classes in the term. Between final projects, essays, presentations, reports, and prestudying for exams, it seemed like not a single student at Hubbard could spare the time to make their own damn lunch. I'd been on my feet since the crack of dawn making sandwich after bloody sandwich. Macy hadn't even been scheduled to work that day, but she'd been called in by a supervisor who was worried we didn't have enough in stock. Personally, I'd be slaphappy if we ran out of bread. No bread, no sandwich, no service, and June goes home.

Or to the library to complete an assignment, which was the next to do in my day. Harry, who'd was up just as early as me, had reserved a seat for me all day at my insistence. Every few minutes, I received a frantic text message from him begging me to hurry up – students were flocking to the library and, like hungry savages, were stealing chairs left and right. He wasn't sure how long he could hold mine.

"Hey! Daydreaming about your lover, Harry Styles?"

Thomas' voice jolted me out of my thoughts, and I looked to him in surprise and irritation.

Ever since I'd had to come into work the day after the pub crawl with faint pen marks of 'I

[HEART] HARRY STYLES' written across my forehead, Thomas had made sure to mention it every time he addressed me.

Frankly, whether I was thinking of Harry Styles or not, I didn't appreciate his jabs.

He leaned forward, shaking the loaf of white bread in front of me. Into my ear, he said loudly, "Chicken club on white!"

That was it. After a full morning of his nonsense, I shouted right back in his face, "Oh my God, YOU DO IT!"

Sodding Thomas.

The customers waiting in line for their sandwiches were clearly surprised, but if you'd asked me for my opinion, I would have had to say that I didn't give a flying fuck. Stalking away, I yanked off my apron and visor and burst through the doors of the stock room. I threw my work items on the counter and announced to Macy, who was on the phone with delivery, "I'm done."

She looked up in surprise. "Uh – yes. That's fine. But really, four o'clock is the longest we can wait for the shipment, so please do your best to have it here by then. Thank you."

Hanging up the phone, she stood. "Fitz. What?"

"He is insane!" I cried, pointing to the door. When Macy looked in confusion, I added,

"Thomas. I have five minutes left in my shift, but if you make me stand beside him for one more second, I'll quit. I don't care how much I need the money – with God as my witness, I will quit!"

"All right, all right," Macy said, stepping forward to put her hands on my shoulders. "Be a little more dramatic, will you?"

I took a few deep breaths, blowing stray hairs out of my eyes. "Sorry."

"To be honest, I'm looking for a way out of here, too," she confessed. "I have a three thousand word essay due tomorrow, and I've barely got a thesis so far."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "my assignment won't be finished for tomorrow unless I book it to the library from here. You should read some of the ridiculous texts I've gotten from Harry about his epic struggles to save me a chair."