"Mikan. You didn't finish you're food." Mom mumbles suspiciously. I drop the bread into the trash and place my plate in the sink. I grab the sponge and rinse my plate. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong Mom. How can you assume that just from my eating habits?"
"You always finish your food." The edge of her lip curves up.
"Are you calling me fat?" I pout, trying to lure her into thinking I am my sarcastic self.
"Nn..." She clicks her tongue, "I'll get back to you later."
She says but never actually does. She cleans the table and runs to put her shoes on. I hand her, her bag just as she pulls the heels of her shoes on. "Thank you." She smiles and pats her hair down, "How do I look?"
I take one long look at her, she has long brown hair and gray eyes. There are bags under her eyes but they make her look absolutely stunning. Her eyebrows arch down and her lips are small and flat. I can see a perfect image of myself in her eyes and I can see myself smile.
"Beautiful." I grin. She kisses my forehead and waves goodbye.
The door closes softly with a thud. I sigh as I sit back down to take a breather.
Time for work.
...
I have a part-time job on Sundays and it's at a bakery down my street. It's small and unnoticeable so we barely earn a thing each day but I love it anyways, even when I'm paid below minimum wage.
There, I can relieve all my stress and work hard on my baking skills. I don't have to worry about a single thing and I can forget who I am for about a whole day.
We serve all kinds of goodies and drinks like what a cafe usually does. You could call it a cafe but to me it's 100% Bakery. What I like most of all is the fact that the manager is female and it's just me, me, and me:) I've known the manager for a long time, as long as I can remember and she offered me this job two years ago and to this day, I have been working here.
I love entering the doors and hearing the bells go off. I love the instant smell of coffee and freshly baked brownies. I love the solitude of working hard. My manager says, its a bad thing though, I should get used to working with males and other females but for now... I can work to my hearts content.
I walk towards it with a goofy grin and slide into it. It's really cold this morning so as soon as I enter, warmth and the smell of hot chocolate hit my face. My body relaxes and I suddenly feel like the days when I snuggle into my blanket on a cold December night. I take my gloves off.
"Hana-san!" I call, pulling my heavy coat onto the counter and settling in my apron for the day. I pull my brown hair up into a high ponytail and spread my bangs out onto the sides of my face. Then I place bobby pins to keep them from moving.
"Sakura. How are you?" A small old lady comes in through the kitchen door. Her squinting eyes grow big at the sight of me. She's in her usual tucked in purple shirt and wool skirt. Her silver gray hair is in a bun with loose strands. I reflect her smile.
"I'm fine. And you?" I give her a little hug and proceed to kneading the dough.
"Oh, you know... making the best out of my life." She smiles a toothy smile. It's really amazing how she still has all of her teeth and she's 85 years old. Plus she can walk very well for her age. But she seems to be loosing a bit of her eyesight each day now.
Every since I started working I've been helping her with little things. The ingredients for the goods and drinks of course but also writing the specials on the board as well. She can't do these little things yet she still manages to stay in great shape. "You don't mind taking over the shop for the day do you?" Her smile slips a little. "It's my husbands anniversary today."
YOU ARE READING
Third Wheel
FanfictionG.A fanfic. We've all known Mikan as an optimistic, bubbly character. What if she's a social outcast? Her best friend, Hotaru, is the only one she relies on, talks to, loves. She hates boys, and there's a reason behind it. One day... she has to face...
