Saving Ariel

Chapter Two.

• Chapter Two •

Ariel

The night is colder than most. I wrap my coat tighter around me as I walk toward the coffee shop. My dear brothers took my car to go to hockey practice, leaving me to walk to work this evening since we all have to share a vehicle. We share it because Matti wrecked their first car when he was seventeen, and it has just been easier for us to only have two cars for now. Sounds crazy, but considering we also don't have the parking space, it just works better. They're all older than me. Brody, Zach, Matti, and I have always been close.
Despite them being triplets, they're polar opposites of each other. Brody is interested in mechanical engineering, Zach is focused on his hockey career, and Matti is studying to be a history professor. Matti has a knack for reading, just like I do, and also dabbles a little in writing. Zach is the goofball of the family. If at any time we're laughing our guts out, Zach is usually the cause of it. Along with his goofy personality, he is also very serious when it comes to his hockey career and taking care of the family. Brody, who takes pride in the fact that he was born first, takes on a leadership role within the house. He's always there for us when needed, and he knows just what to do when things go wrong. He's the most similar to our dad, and we love him dearly for it.

As for looks, the four of us are fairly similar. I have long, black hair and auburn brown eyes to match my dad, and the boys all have black hair like mine, but blue-green eyes to match our mother's. The boys inherited our father's height, each reaching as tall as 6'0", while I stand at 5'6"—just like our mother.

I don't usually come to work on Wednesday nights, only a little in the morning, but Steve asked me to take the second shift so he could go to the hospital with his wife. She's currently eight months pregnant with their fifth child. How one can have five kids, I will never know. The little bit of snow on the ground crunches beneath my feet, collecting on the sides of my black ankle boots.

Today I had on my normal work attire, leggings with an oversized sweater and a pair of boots. Steve is pretty lenient with work attire. As long as we at least have our name tag visible on the side of our shirts, we can pretty much wear whatever we want. Some days I wear the black sweater he had specifically made for me. I know, I know. I'm special. Other days I just wear one of my regular sweaters with my name tag.

I see the bright Stevie's Coffee sign before I even see the building itself. I quicken my pace to get there faster. Nobody is there, and the lights are on, but thankfully the door is locked. I take out my keys and unlock the door, stepping into the warmth. Steve told me I only had to stay until at least twelve, eleven-thirty if nobody continued to show up.

Five minutes later, I'm finishing wiping the counter and all the other tables with fresh coffee brewing behind me. The door opens, and in steps a boy who looks between eighteen and twenty years old. His shoulders are slumped as he walks, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his mouth curled down in a frown like he hates the world—or as if he believes the world hates him. A black hoodie is draped over
his head, with hair slightly sticking out at the top, and since he is staring at the floor I can't quite see his face.

My heart starts to race as I think about how sketchy this stranger looks right now. Not to judge, but dude, you look like you're about to rob someone.

He goes to a seat in the back, not even glancing over at me. Maybe I should check to see if he wants anything. I watch him for a few more minutes, contemplating if I should approach him or not, but end up starting towards him anyways.