A Slice Of Life

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Bryn Sinclair

I have finally come to realize why I don’t actually choose to work here. It’s very boring. To make it worse, no one even comes to get coffee during the holidays. The only people that would come are Elle, Char, Ren, Hale, Oliver, and Wes. But the only people that I care to talk to are busy. One could imagine my annoyance when Hale is pretty much the only customer tonight.

I glare at him, and don’t bother saying the welcoming lines. “You know, I could give a horrid review for this place due to the horrible service.”

I grit my teeth and give him a sardonic smile. “What would it be today?”

“I think you know what I want.” He leans over the counter towards me placing his hands on the counter for support. I stand my ground instead of backing up, which is what Charlotte would do.

“And I think you’re mistaken.” I stick to my philosophy that he won’t be able to get to me as long as I don’t let him affect me. Unfortunately, that wall that I have built up is slowly crumbling down every time I even look at him, or think about him. It must have been a really strong wall if it’s lasted this long. I’m speeding up the destruction of the wall be staring into his eyes. They’re a deep, dark blue. His eyes were always my favorite. They held a secret, something deep and dark down inside. No matter how close we were, I would never be able to break down that last wall.

“We’ve known each other for years, and you have no earthly idea what drink I want. That’s quite disappointing, actually.” Looking up in surprise, I realize that he isn’t actually talking about anything else. Hale’s actually talking about coffee. He seems to have caught on to my train of thought. “Oh, you actually thought. Well, that’s quite flattering, and I’d love to some time—” I raise my hand to stop him.

“One Caramel Macchiato coming right up.” I busy myself working on the drink, and I hear him in the background taking a seat. It’s about 8:30 already, and I’m supposed to start closing up at 9. I call out to him. “Whip or no whip?”

At first, I don’t hear an answer. I call out again, and still, no answer. With the hot cup in one hand, and the can of whipped cream in the other, I make my way towards the front of the store. Initially, I don’t see Hale anywhere. I place down the drink and whipped cream on the counter and make my way to the booths. “Hale?”

After one round of the shop, I see a pair of black converse sticking out from under a table. My first instinct is to bring out a bat and hit the possible serial killer unconscious, but then I think rationally. Elle says I should think rationally more often. I remember to at random moments in life. I go back behind the counter and grab a broom. Walking back over to the pair of legs, I use the end of the broom to poke them. Nothing pops out, so I assume it’s safe to look under the table.

I stick my head under the table. “Hale.” Aiming for his face, I stick the broom under the table.

I hear a slight rustling under the table, and Hale scoots out from under the table, revealing himself. “Could you not?” He stands up with his hair sticking up in certain places and rubs at his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still lying down in random places taking naps. I swear, it’s only been five minutes, and you’ve already fallen asleep. And now, it’s just a waste of coffee, since it’s cold now.”

“It’s not my fault. Did you know that in England, they made me actually take off my bag so that they could check the contents? Do you know how much energy it took for me to hand it off to them?” England. England. England. England. England. England. That’s almost the only thing I hear. The word constantly echoes in the back of my mind, but now that he’s said it, it’s at the front of my mind. I tell the word to go away, but it won’t. “Then, another time, when I had to get a physical done, they asked for my insurance card and stuff. I just took so much energy, and I really was in no mood to look through my bag for it. So obviously, I walked right back out. Ridiculous.”

The one thing about Hale is that he’s notoriously lazy. And he will sleep anywhere at any time. If it takes even an extra ounce of energy than the bare minimum, he would rather not do it. We’ve never done it, but he always made it a joke to say that it was already so tiring to take off his own clothes, and then to take off the girl’s clothes, too? That’s too much to ask, but then he’d say, “But  if it’s Bryn Sinclair, I’ll do it.” That was approximately two months before he left.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and go back behind the counter. “Did you still want that Caramel Macchiato? I’d have to make a new one, but that’s fine. As long as you pay.” Hale seemed to be in the middle of saying something else,  so he looked startled when I spoke.

“Um. Yeah. I’d still like it. Thanks.” I’ve basically just killed any hope for a pleasant conversation. Which is perfectly fine with me, but I don’t imagine Hale to be too happy. I once again get started on his drink for a second time.

“Whip or no whip?” I really hope he hasn’t already fallen asleep.

“Oh. Um. Whip.” He seems to have resorted back to his way of speaking where he speaks in parts. “Why can’t we talk?” The question catches me off guard. My first reaction is to yell my head off. However, I must think rationally. The decision I come to is to act as if I didn’t hear what he said, and to spray that whipped cream on his drink. I snap the lid on and enter it into the cash register.

“That would be $3.50.” He sticks his hand into his back right pocket, pulling out a black wallet. He seems to have excepted my silence, and pulls out a five dollar bill. He hands it to me, and grabs his drink. With one last nod towards me, he walks out the door.

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