Cosmic Strings || Ray Palmer

Light Up The Night Sky

The bell of the bakery rang in her ears, and she tried to ignore the chatters of excitement rising up from the full tables, American flag printed bunting everywhere she looked.

She rolled her eyes, standing in line with her arms crossed, trying to ignore the dirty looks people sent her way. She was almost near the counter, getting ready to order when a man in a business suit cut in front of her, placing his order.

"Excuse me?" She asked, but no one seemed to hear her. When she asked again, all it led to was a nasty look thrown her way from the woman behind her.

Alex bit her cheek, anger growling in her stomach at the behavior of the people in the shop.

She stepped up to the counter, bills in hand and began to place her order.

"Hi" She plastered a fake smile on her face, "I'd like--"

"I'm sorry," The teenager behind the register began, "But we can't serve you."

An involuntary laugh slipped past her lips, "I'm sorry?" Alex asked, unable to keep the surprise off her face. "Why not? I have money."

The teenager shrugged, his greased back hair shining under the fluorescent lights, "It's company policy."

Alex inhaled sharply.

She knew what he meant by that and gracefully stepped out of line.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed past the rest of the people in line and strode to her car, slamming the door shut and screaming out all of her frustration.

She was sick of it.

Her hands slammed against the wheel.

Sick of this city. Sick of being stuck.  Sick of this time period.

Sick of being treated like she was a lesser human being because of her gender and the color of her skin.

She was so sick of it!

She wished more than anything that the Waverider would appear right then and there and beam her up, but she knew that was as likely as Sara coming back.

So instead she turned the car on and headed home, empty-handed.

She was almost to the apartment when she caught sight of the street that led to Sal's store. Deciding that he might have some form of cake she could consume, she turned the car, following the bumpy road to the giant parking lot, stuffing her keys in her pocket as she reached the door.

"Hola, Sal!" She greeted, elbows pressing against the counter where he worked.

"Chiquita!" He bellowed, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek, "Feliz cumpleaños!"

She smiled at his response, "Muchas Gracias," Alex thanked him and took a look around the store, turning back to ask him, " ¿tienes pastelitos ?" Her hands formed a circle, letting him know the size she was looking for as well.

A thoughtful expression passed over Sal's face before he left the counter, moving toward the back before he came out with a small purple box in his hands, "Francesa made one too many for her friends" He responded in English, "They're red velvet, your favorite."

Alex's stomach leaped at the gesture. He remembered. At least someone did.

"Thank you, Sal," She pressed a kiss to his cheek, "How much?"

The owner shook his head, "Consider it a gift for one of my favorite customers." His eyes twinkled and she moved in for a hug, letting him know that his gift was much appreciated.