03 | knight in trouble

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k n i g h t   i n   t r o u b l e


And it began two days later. On a Saturday.

Saturdays at Wavelength were generally busy. It wasn't just the usual crowd of tourists and beach-goers. Add on the weekend crowd as well as students on summer break, and the beach was practically full of people.

At times, there were so many people sun-tanning on the beach you could only see slight glimpses of the warm white sand. Keith and Greg, both of whom had taken on summer jobs here as lifeguards, had their hands full during the weekends.

Which, to me, was always a plus. At least Greg couldn't come over to harass me with idiotic pick-up lines anymore.

But while Saturdays were excruciatingly busy, they were also my favourite days. Weekends were when my Dad didn't need to work and could be down manning the shack with the rest of us.

So all four of us were at Wavelength that day, which was a lovely feeling, as always. It was a simple but blissful feeling to just watch my Dad whip up batches of coffee from the espresso machine, my brother tinkering with the cash register and my Mom serving the line with me.

I liked that sort of feeling best. It was as though the world came to a standstill and you wished you could feel this sated forever, only you knew (subconsciously) that you couldn't.

I was still thinking of this, smiling as my Mom reached across the counter to tickle a little toddler who was being carried by his Mom, when I noticed a familiar person standing at the edge of the queue.

It was the boy I'd met two days earlier. He was dressed normally this time; white shirt and knee-length khakis, along with a bag slung over one shoulder. He hovered at the end of the line uncertainly, his fingers tightening around the strap of his back.

He spotted me, and that hesitant, shy smile appeared briefly on his face before he held up a bag, and I immediately knew that the clothes I'd lent him were inside. Holding up a finger in the universal 'one sec' sign, I returned to serving the current customer.

"Hi, what can I get you?" I asked chirpily, belatedly realising how my voice sounded urgent and rushed. It was a good thing my parents couldn't hear me, because if they could, they were probably going to chide me for being unprofessional.

The lady in front of me took her time scanning the menu above us. While it was normal of customers to do that, and I generally had quite a fair amount of patience when it came to this, I couldn't help but glance over at the boy once more. I didn't want to keep him waiting.

"One espresso, please," the lady finally said, after what seemed like an eternity.

Immediately, I snapped into attention. "One more espresso!" I hollered at Dad, over my shoulder, even though he was right behind me.

Dad shot me a glare before shaking his head and pouring out the espresso. He always said I deafened him and if I was being completely honest, I had to agree. I just happened to be really enthusiastic about certain things.

Like coffee.

Or getting out of my shift to meet the boy who'd come to return me the clothes and money.

Which was why, when I signalled Ean over, his eyes narrowed with realisation since he knew what I was going to ask him to do. We'd done this more often than once, so much so that it almost became a habit sometimes.

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