A Crazy Thing Called Love (Harry Sytles Fanfic.)

6

"I'll see you around Carter."

Carmen

Mondays are the worst.

Dragging my ass out of bed to take a shower is always the hardest on Mondays. I have the early shift at the coffee house, classes in the afternoon, then I have practice and I'll be up until midnight doing homework. That's usually how my day goes, though I don't work Tuesdays or Fridays because of my classes. My Dad is always worried that I'm going to run myself into the ground, and I honestly don't know how I'm still functional.

After a long, hot shower that seems to make me more sleepy than I already was, I pull on black jeans and my uniform. I have just enough time to come back here between class and the end of my shift, so thankfully I don't have to take my school things with me. That would be a chore. My shower was a little too long, though, and with no time to do my hair I pull it back into a french braid. I'm not trying to impress anyone, so it doesn't really matter.

The morning shift is pretty easy; I'm only there for three hours while the cafe is actually open. Most of the shift consists of turning all the machines on and making sure everything is ready for the day. I have to take out the pastries and the rest of the food, restock the cooler and make sure that I have enough of everything that I need to make the coffees and other drinks. It gets decently busy in the morning, but usually only for about an hour or two and it's nothing I can't handle on my own.

The owners of this place are my favourite people. They don't actually own it anymore, their daughter does, but they still come in to work whenever they can. The woman does a lot of the baking still and her husband insists on fixing things that aren't really broken. They treat Ivy and me like we're their children.

"Carmen!" Marla shouts when she walks in. It scares the hell out of me but she doesn't notice. "How are you? I haven't seen you in ages!"

"It's been three days," I laugh as she hugs me.

"Feels like three years," she says, smiling warmly at me.

"Many customers?" she asks. I have no idea how this place is still open. It probably isn't even profitable, but they just love it so much that they could never close it.

"A decent amount," I tell her.

"That's wonderful."

"Hi Peter," I call as he walks through the door. He smiles and sits at the table near the window. "How's the wrist?"

"Good as new," he says, holding it up for me to see. He tried to lift something far too heavy a few weeks ago and it's been bothering him ever since. These people are like my own grandparents and I really care about them. They've taken the work relationship much further than I ever expected them to.

"Why don't you head home," Marla suggests. "You have class and Simone will be here any minute."

"Are you sure?" I would love to finish my philosophy paper.

"Yes, you head on home. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Thanks, Marla."

She nods and I head to the back to get my things. An extra hour and a half will mean I won't have to go to campus looking homeless like I usually do. That's always a bonus.

While I'm walking home I send my Dad one of my daily text messages. I'm honestly not even sure where he is right now, so he might actually be sleeping or something. Either way, I do this every day. I barely get to speak to him, so I want him to know that I'm thinking and worry about him. The odd time he actually responds and it makes my week so much better to know that he's okay. Having your own living parent as a leader in the military is never a fun thing. I don't know what I would do if I lost him.