A WEEK later, Emery is spending another afternoon at Dahlia's, serving coffee left and right. The bell above the door rings every minute, keeping both her and her mind busy.
A white lace headband keeps the baby hairs from flying each and every way or sticking to her damp forehead, though some still find their way out and have to be tucked behind an ear.
The bell dings once again, which Emery pays no mind to, taking up the scrubbing job, while her friend and coworker, Hallie, tries the machine.
The bell meant nothing, until she sees the people who made it ring right in front of the counter.
Harven and Tate.
Their smug walks set off the alarm in Emery's brain, and she knows they're here for no good. He's never come to her job, does he have to bring his shenanigans here too?!
She rushes to their place by the counter.
"Oh, Emery. What a nice surprise." Harven grins, and Tate continues tearing at a napkin that sits in the dispenser.
"Hey! People use those." Emery swats at his destructive fingers. Tate flicks his eyes up at her, taking on an even more mischievous grin.
"Why are you here Harven? I'm begging you, not here-"
"Relax, we're just here for some coffee. Two black please." He says his order, and Tate nods at the side of him. Emery narrows her eyes suspiciously, knowing they aren't here for coffee. Especially at her shop.
Emery goes back and starts to brew their order, trying to keep one eye on them at all times, which is hard and makes her look deranged.
She comes back around and there are less people now, it's nearing closing time.
Tate goes to reach for his cup, hitting a spoon container and spilling the contents across the wooden floor. Emery sighs, pursing her lips.
That was not an accident.
Harven barely contains his obnoxious laugh, taking his coffee and having a seat close to the counter. Tate looks at the mess and turns away.
Not really surprising, actually.
Tate's not really a talker. More of a puncher, kicker, and anything else of the violent sort.
Emery huffs, and goes around to pick up the spoons. Hallie joins her, squatting down in the same position and collecting the utensils.
"Thanks." Emery says.
Hallie scoffs, "What a dick!" She sends a glare in Tate's direction. Tate catches her eye, raking his own down her body. Hallie shudders.
"To think, he gets so many girls being an ass. Where's the logic in that?" Emery rolls her eyes, picking up the last of it.
"He has no manners, whatsoever. I would never." Hallie shakes her head.
Emery looks up at her since she has a few inches on her 5'3 stature.
"Good, at least somebody has sense."
______________
Emery watches May smear the colors across the canvas, creating something unknown to her yet. Paint is already spewed across May's apron and runs up her arm. This side of May contradicts the prim ballerina side, but Emery admires them both.
"I still can't believe Ethan cheated on you." May says from the other side of the room, testing some more colors.
"Best forgotten, May. He'll regret it soon enough." Emery places her book on her stomach, watching the fan spin in dizzying circles.
"And will you take him back?" May drops her brush.
"Oh definitely not. But it'll be a nice sight seeing him embarrass himself." Emery smiles, which, with that and her recent statement, reminds her all too much of Harven.
"Good for you."
"Yep. Good for me."
________________
When Emery arrives home, in the comforts of her bedroom, she hears her mom and dad arguing down stairs. They had been for the last couple of weeks. Even without being in the fight, it drains her. She only gets little snippets of it sometimes.
Good for us
Don't want to
But Emery
For the most part they try to keep it hushed. Emery has good ears and they know that.
Tonight she plays her violin, which can almost drown them out completely. Depending, she'll play soft melodies or harsh numbers. Tonight, a harsh number.
She pulls the bow back and forth, back and forth. Closing her eyes and honing in on only this. She'll exhaust herself and quickly fall asleep, not remembering her duties and reality until morning.
But for now, she must play.
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Teen Fiction𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙀 Harven Aller stole her soccer ball as children, Emery has sworn to hate him. Now, as petty as that sounds, He never apologized. He even denied ever stealing it, even after her seeing it in his back yard, with "EMERY" in bold, slo...
