I ride my bike downtown. I love riding, it’s always made me feel independent. Also, I can blast music in my ears while I ride, which I do even though my parents don’t like me wearing earbuds while I bike. Sorry, mom.
I can’t wait until I can get my license so I can buy a car. As much as I love it, I can’t bike everywhere. I already have all my driver's training hours in, so all I have to do is wait for my birthday. I’m turning sixteen this November.
I get on my bike and pull on my helmet. When I reach the road, I speed up. Upbeat music blasts in my ears. I bike until I reach town, then slow. I don’t really know where I’m going. Just away from home.
I end up stopping by the diner I used to work at. I quit after Annabelle died. Well, my dad quit for me. I wasn’t very reliable at the time. I’ve been doing a lot better lately, and the other day I thought about applying here again, but I never really liked the job in the first place.
The large glowing OPEN sign is off, and the lights are off. I wonder if the diner’s finally shut down. It was always on the verge of bankruptcy.
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I sit at one of the picnic tables to rest my legs. It’s about four o’clock, and people are everywhere. I wave at a group of girls I recognize from school, but they don’t even glance at me.
I prop my bicycle against the wall of the diner and grab my bag, heading for the sidewalk and again blasting music into my ears.
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I figure I can walk for a bit to kill some time. I look closely at every building I pass. Most are places I’ve grown up around, but never really paid attention to. Like the sewing shop or antique shop, or multiple small restaurants I’ve never bothered to glance at. I was always so absorbed in where I was going, who I was with, or what I was doing.
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I stop by a cute cafe called ‘Brown’s cafe’ It’s a cute vintage place, and I feel strangely drawn to it, with its brown brick walls and cream-colored doors.
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I push the door open and a bell jingles. The air conditioning hits me like a wave, a nice break from the high-seventies weather outside. There’s no one at the counter, but there’s a bell by a sign that says ‘Ring for Service’ I don’t ring it quite yet. Instead, I look around the cafe, looking closely at everything. There’re fairy lights strung up along the wall, along with a world map. There are pictures of people who I can only assume are the owners and a sign that says ‘Now Hiring’.
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When I turn back to the counter, a girl is coming out of the employee-only entrance towards me. She smiles, “Hi, can I get you anything?”
“Um.” I wasn’t really planning on getting anything, but what am I supposed to do? “Yeah, I’ll get an oat milk iced coffee, please.”
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“Coming right up. Would you like any additional flavors?”
I shake my head and she starts making my drink. All of the supplies are right on the counter, so you can watch your coffee get made.
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When she finishes, the girl hands me one oat milk iced coffee in a to-go cup. “That’s two twenty-three,” She says. I hand her the money and turn to leave.
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On the way home, I keep thinking about the cafe. I wonder if I could apply there. I mean, I need a job, and I know that they’re hiring. The girl who took my order looked only a few years older than me. She’s probably still in high school.
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I cook mac-and-cheese for dinner and read my book until my mother gets home an hour or two later.
“Hey, hon.” My mom says when she sees me, “How was your day?”
I shrug. “It was alright. I, um, I was thinking about maybe applying for a job.” My mother's entire face brightens. “Really? That's great!”116Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE9tBqCpP8H
I nod. “Yeah, I found a cafe in town that’s hiring, and thought it would be good to start saving for a car again.” My mother smiles and gives me a hug. “I’m glad,” She says, and kisses me on the head.
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I go to sleep before my dad gets home, tired both from lack of sleep, and a day busier than most.
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The next few days are more of the same. School isn’t great, but people are gradually losing interest in me, which I appreciate immensely. Hannah has driven me home almost every day, and she usually stays for dinner.
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On Saturday, I go back to ‘Brown’s Cafe’. I walk inside, and the same girl from before is at the counter. She smiles at me when I walk in. “Hello, what can I get for you?”116Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDo7WdnVQ6Q
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“Um, I was actually wondering if I could apply here. The, um, the sign says you’re hiring.”
She nods and smiles at me, “yeah, we are. You would just have to fill out an aplication form and we’d get back to you after.”
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“Oh, okay, yeah, that’d be great.”
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She disappears to the back of the building and returns a minute later with the application. I
thank her and order a black coffee.
When she hands me the cardboard cup, the coffee’s so hot it burns my hand. I set the coffee down for a moment and readjust my grip. When I am resituated, I head to a table with a pen and the application and get to work.
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After about an hour, three calls to my dad for information, and half a cup of coffee, I finish the application. I smile at the girl behind the counter as I hand her the papers.
At dinner, I tell my parents that I applied at the cafe. They’re over the moon, saying things like, “that's great!” and “We’re so proud of you.” over and over, even though I had a job before… well, it’s like it’s my first job. It’s not that big a deal.
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I guess I’m glad that they’re happy about it, but I wish, just for once, we could be normal.
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“So, Nora,” my mom says, “Have you been thinking about college at all?”
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I shrug. I was planning to go to college with one of my friends-my best friend, actually- but, like all of them, she ditched me after Annabelle died. Since then, I’ve put off any thought of college. I have three years anyway.
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My parents don’t push the subject. I know they don’t want to push me into anything like that. Their therapist told them not to. I know because I hear them fighting about it when they think I’m asleep- whether or not to force me to go to school, get a job, reach out to my friend, etcetera.
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My mother wants me to simply be better. She wants me to be the same person I was before.
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But now half of me is dead.
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The better half.
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