When former beauty pageant queen, Ellie Wilde, hears of her grandmother's sickness, she's the first to offer to drive her to her chemotherapy. What she didn't know she was agreeing to was an obnoxiously cheerful blond boy somehow nudging his way int...
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She nods a quick goodbye to the barista before heading towards the elevators, being sure her grip on the coffees in her hands is secure. She spots the familiar head of blond hair sitting in his usual seat and typing away on his phone. Standing in front of him, she waits for him to look up. When he doesn't, she clears her throat.
He tucks his phone into his pocket and a smile graces his lips. "Hello, Ellie. Your frown is especially prominent today."
"I'm not frowning."
"That's just your face then?" he asks, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "Right. My bad."
She rolls her eyes and allows the frown he'd imagined to take over her lips. "And to think I was going to be nice to you today. I guess you don't need this coffee after all."
All humor fades from his face. "Wait. You brought me a coffee?"
She shrugs, swallowing the lump that's formed in her throat at the sudden change in the mood. "Yeah. I just thought you might like one. It's not a big deal."
She holds the coffee out to him and he stares at it for a while before leaning forward and grabbing it gently. He glances down at the cup in his hand before looking back to her warily. "Thanks."
"Like I said, it's not a big deal."
She takes a sip from her own coffee and sits down in the seat adjacent to his. He takes a sip from his cup before scrunching his face up in disgust and turning to her. "I hate coffee."
"Then why did you keep bothering me for mine?"
"It always sounds like a good idea but it never is." He stands up from his chair, walking over to the trash and dropping the hot drink in it. Ellie can't help but cringe as she watches him throw away four dollars' worth of coffee. He turns around, smiling and making his way back to his seat. "I appreciate the gesture though."
She doesn't answer, instead choosing to take another sip from her drink.
"Why are you here?" he asks suddenly.
"My grandma's treatment. We've been over this."
"No," he says sharply, running a hand through his hair and narrowing his eyes at her in a studious manner. "Why are you here? Why are you sitting here with me instead of being up there with your grandmother?"
I don't know, she thinks to herself. Maybe because my grandma guilt tripped me. Maybe because I feel sorry for you. Maybe because I know what it's like to feel like the whole world is against you.
Instead of saying any of these, she just shrugs and returns to sipping her coffee. He doesn't respond and a tense silence falls over them. His eyes stay trained on her as she stares around the room, focusing her attention on anything but him.
"Well if you're going to sit here with me, at least make conversation. This awkward silence is not going to fly."
She lets out a soft laugh and turns to see a surprised look etched onto Cooper's face. He lets out a quick laugh of his own before saying, "I never thought I'd see an emotion other than distaste from you."
"I guess I'm full of surprises."
"I guess so." He pauses. "Tell me something about yourself."
Her smile fades. "What?"
"Tell me something about yourself. Who are you? Who do you aspire to be? What are your hopes and dreams? Anything."
She pauses, thinking over his question and drawing a blank, shaking her head to let him know she has nothing.
He purses his lips. "Fine. I'll tell you something about me then. I don't have a problem talking about myself—"
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Anyway. I work at a graveyard. Ironic, huh?"
"A graveyard?"
"Yep. It's almost like I was asking to get sick. I jinxed myself. It won't be long until someone's cleaning my grave." He laughs dryly.
Choosing to ignore his dark joke, she asks, "Why do you work at a graveyard? Why not a McDonalds or something?"
"Serving people food that will send them to a grave isn't much better," he argues.
She nods. "Okay, you make a good point. But why not work at the mall? Why not work a normal retail job?"
"Call me crazy, but I like working in a cemetery. I like the quiet. I like the sacredness of the whole place. I like the idea of caring for people even after they're gone, preserving their memories by being sure their grave sites are looked after."
"Does it not scare you?"
He laughs, his eyes crinkling up slightly as he nods at her. "Sometimes, yeah. But it's not too bad usually."
"How can you..." she trails off, not sure if she should finish her question or not.
He glances in her direction, urging her to continue. She stays silent a moment longer before letting out a sigh. "How can you still work if you're sick?"
"I just do." He shrugs. "I haven't really told everyone I'm sick yet. My boss doesn't know. Only my family and a couple close friends. I'm not hospitalized yet so I'm not going to quit working."
"You really want to waste your time working though? What about all that living your life stuff you said the other day?"
His lips quirk upwards. "I don't see it as a waste of time. It gives me a purpose, makes me feel like a contributing member of society still."
She doesn't say anything, taking a moment to really process his words as she stares ahead blankly.
"You know," he says, grabbing her attention. "I always say that my last shift will only happen when I can absolutely no longer work."
She sits silently, watching the boy beside her as his thoughts dance around in his eyes. Even though he wears a smile, she can see that the smile isn't genuine. What really reads across his face is one emotion and one emotion only. Fear.
His cold eyes meet hers and her breath hitches in her throat. His mouth opens and closes once before he quietly says, "When my last shift ends, so will my life."
