Chapter 3

712 35 13
                                    

I got my cool little clip that says "Jenn" on it, because they had one that said Jenn and not one that said Jem or Jemma and I would have to pay $15 for a special made one and I could but, why? Its kinda funny having a misspelled name tag.

I got my Diploma when I was in foster care so that's great. No more school. Ever. Hallelur!

But now its time to work. I have no idea what I'm going to do with the rest of my life and I kinda like not knowing... It makes it exciting. But I guess for now just stick at the good ol' Starbucks until I figure it out.

I see a lot of teens come in here which makes me kind of sad. I missed the prime of my teen years being stuck in foster care for, um, no fucking reason. But the past is in the past. I need to let that shit go.

***

Today is fourth day here and I really like it. I make the drinks. Who would of thunk it?

I wear a emerald apron and my, now, extremely long, dark brown hair is pulled up in a pony tail, sticking through the hole in the back of the cap. The other say I stopped at JC Penny's and got a new pair of converse I desperately needed. These are white high tops. And they look hella good with dark clothes. Actually, all clothes... These shoes the real MVP man. And we can wear whatever we want under the apron it doesn't really matter, which is great. While I was at JC Penney, I basically just went fucking berserk. I bought, a ton, of clothes. And the style is so cute now, its amazing.

Its Monday, so its a new set of customers than the weekend crew they say. Mostly teens and young adults unlike the teens and elders that come in on weekends but mostly elders, surprisingly. I didn't even know they knew what Starbucks was.

I'm opening today so I'm kind of nervous to deal with the cranky teenagers coming in to get their morning coffee. Its March. School is in full, annoying ass, stressful, session. Let's see what today brings.

***

I set everything up and make sure I'm ready, not having opened yet, I was nervous I would mess something up but excited to do something new. If I do well today, I'll get way more hours which would be awesome. I love working. Provably, just for now and eventually I'll hate it, but as of right now, its great. I feel like a real adult.

I unlock the door at 7:30 am, on the dot. Then I go take a seat behind the counter, and pull out my phone to wait on a customer.

***

The first couple customers were so tired, it was crazy to see. It reminded me of when I had to get Starbucks every morning as a freshman or else I'd be a zombie walking down the halls and laying in class. Yes laying. I didn't really care.

Its almost 8 and that's when Brayleigh said it starts to really get going but its nothing too hard. I'm here alone until 9 but I'm okay with that. After Grant gets here at noon, it seems a bit crowded behind the counter. A small group walks in and some sit down and pull out laptops. A few come up to the counter to order. I have a note pad but I'm trying to learn how to remember with out it.

They ramble off their delicious sounding order as I try to remember as much as I can but writing a few key words for help on my pad. I rush behind the counter to get all 6 drinks made as quickly as possible as they go and sit with their friends.

Just at the wrong time, when I'm finally busy, the oven rings, signaling that I have to take out the pastries. Shit. I stop what I'm doing and wipe me messy hands covered in water, whipped cream, coffee; you name it, on my apron. I rush to the side and rip open the oven door. Heat blasts me in the face as I grab the safe mitt from above the stove. I slide it over my hand and quickly grab the top own and set it on the cooling counter. I go back and grab the second and do the same. The third row didn't look done, and when we make the afternoon pastries I know that the third always takes a bit longer to cook, so I shut the door and set the next timer for 2 minutes.

I scurry back to the drinks and finish up a few. I set them in the counter and call the four names that I had done. The oven rings again as I head back to finish the other drinks. Shit. I run back, slid the mitt on, pull it out, and then of the oven. The door bell rings, signalling someone else has came in.

"Good morning. Welcome to Starbucks. My name is Jemma. One moment please." I yell over my shoulder as I finish the last two drinks.

I almost slip on the wet floor as I make my way to the pick up counter.

"Uh.. Deeshawn and Shwanika." I attempt to pronounce.

"Its Dayshawn." The tall man says.

"Sorry. Enjoy your drink. Thank you." I say sweetly even though he was being rude when I tried my best.

I walk back to the pastries to get them loaded into the shelves.

"Sorry about that. What would you like?" I ask the man behind the counter as I duck down to set them in the display window.

He doesn't answer so I look up at him through the glass of the counter.

I jump and slam my head into the glass as I try to convince myself that what I'm seeing can't be real.

I pull my head out if the case and rub the knot forming as I stand up straight in complete shock.

"Grayson?"

Chosen G.D.Where stories live. Discover now