Dying Wish

[12]

Days later...

"Right, this can't take all day," Alice said. "I have to get back for tryouts." We stood on the busy Clearview sidewalk. Although the options were plentiful, she pressed her finger to her lips and took her sweet time. "Does the gentleman have a preference?"

"Will it make a difference?" I said.

"Your request will be given mild consideration."

"Oh, goodie."

"Better hurry," she continued to tease me.   

"Cash is cash, Alice. Doesn't really matter."

"Is that right? Well, then. Let's see. Hmm. How about—"

BAM!

The glass shook behind us.

Stiff in the shoulders, we turned to the one coffeehouse on the block. An apron taped a white "HELP WANTED" sign. Beyond the clear surface was the one person— no, the only person you'd never catch me working with. Never.

Alice smirked at me.

"Don't you dare," I said.

Seconds later, Alice was dragging me to the door. "NOOOO!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I tried with all my might to get away. Sheesh. It seemed impossible for someone so small to be so strong.

"Come on," Alice grunted. "I don't have time for this, Gray." 

"I'D RATHER DIE!" I managed to pull her to the side. "Wait, wait. Please!"

"Is this about Gary?" she said. "I bet he'll help you if you ask for it." The notion penetrated my mind like poison to the soul. Ask him for help? That pretty boy, con artist?! "What's your deal with Gary anyway? He's the nicest."

"You trust a guy that satisfied making coffee? Ugh. Sheep."

"Oh, that's right. Only people who hate their lives are trustworthy," she muttered sarcastically.

"Exactly." Someone stared at us. "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" I yelled. Terrified, they ran away. See how I get? See what happens when he's involved? No thanks. The more I peered at Gary through the glass, the more my stomach roiled.

"You're unbelievable," she said.

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment. Look, I don't have time for this. Stay here. I'll call you in a sec." I was still getting used to the whole transposing thing. Something about it was so smooth nobody around noticed. Soon enough, my phone buzzed. Sneaker squeaks were in the background. She was in the gym, I assumed. Off to the side probably. "Hey— we're warming up soon. Hurry up."

I lied. I told her I'd handle it, that this was nothing for her to worry about. Anything to spare myself the insufferable agony of going in. "Uh-uh. Don't even try it. You're not getting off that easy. You wanted this, remember?"

So, this was my fault.

"So supportive," I said. "You sure it's volleyball tryouts? Not cheerleading?"

"Stop stalling," she said. "If you're going, then go."

I had to go now, didn't I?

Here's how that went...

DING-DONG!

Hard to believe this was the same place. The music was much louder. Or rather, it was much quieter. The chairs were askew. Crumbs covered the tables. Those things let me know this was indeed the same coffeehouse from earlier. Also, this sinking sensation I suffered in my gut. Yeah, I was definitely in the same Smiley's.

Walking past me was a smiling customer, on cue. Everyone who left Gary seemed to smile this way. He elbowed the counter during this gap in business, heels off the floor, body slouched. His eyes scanned, he looked lost in unimaginable thought. I stopped. I had Alice to tell me, "Go on." I walked up.

"Pretty Boy—"

"Hmm?" Gary turned. "Ah, no..."

"Be nice," Alice whispered.

"That job." I threw my thumb to the window. "...It's mine."

"You asking for my help?"

Kyahhhhhhh! My insides were melting.

"In your dreams, you!" As I went to spew the vilest venom possible, I looked at the name on my phone. The person I was doing this for. My thumb hit the red button. It was just me and him. "I want to buy her something, ok? A thank you gift. Please."

He smiled, "Got you man." This took me through a cluttered supply room to meet the manager, Linda. "I can vouch for him," Gary told her. "Gray will be great. He's willing to start now, too. Aren't you, Gray?"

"Sure," I said.

"If... If you think it's a good idea, Gary." Linda's chubby cheeks were red since we walked in. I was either invisible or an afterthought. I thought this only for a second. Turns out Linda saw me better than I thought. "You're hired," she said and chucked an apron at me. The air opened the fabric over my face. Everything was pitch brown and smelled like coffee.

"I hate everything," I muttered. Gary chuckled.

Linda went on saying, "Gary, just let Eli know about this. He just got in to relieve you."

"I can handle that," he said. "Come on, Gray."

I pulled down the apron and sighed.

I followed him to a row of crummy cubbies. Gary explained what Linda had done to the man with almond brown hair. He was slinging an apron around his body, at the time. I could tell from the smile on his face he was glad to hear about my hiring. He said so in an accented voice. "Be glad to show him the ropes. You getting out of here, Gary?"

"Sure am," he said.

An apron exchanged for a leather jacket, Gary headed for a green metal door at the back of the room. On his way, he hit me on the shoulder. "All you. Don't have too much fun, guys." The creaking sound connected to an alleyway, a soft wind and the blinding white glow of a gorgeous day. Gary vanished into this. Eli looked to a shelf. His finger flew out.

"Grab that marker," he said. "Name goes on the apron."

Nine sloppy strokes put a "G-R-A-Y" on the fabric. As Eli glanced between my face and what I'd written, I realized it was better to get this over with now. I told him "Don't worry. I'm way smarter." He laughed. We went to work. Eli behind the counter, scorching the coffee beans. Me everywhere else.

My job was easy— mostly floor sweeping and table dusting. In the mornings to come, I developed a paranoia to the grinding sound of chair legs across tiled floors. I'd wait on line with Alice, hyper vigilant of the trash and mess headed my way. She always had a volleyball girl by her side, so I wasn't being rude. If anything, it was the exact opposite; she neglected me.

Which was fine.

We were together in the afternoons. Nights, too.

I worked a half shift. Slow cash but short hours. Short enough for Alice to wait for me after tryouts. She'd do homework at one of the tables in her black shorts, we'd leave about an hour later. One thing was clear, she was more studious than me. And super determined. Super weird, right?

Speaking of weird...

A SOLID CLIFFHANGER. ALL IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD AGAIN.

THIS PART WAS A LOT OF FUN FOR ME. GIVE IT A VOTE IF YOU ENJOYED.

MORE TOMORROW!