When Droplets Collide

Eleven

I stretch up on the tips of my toes to drape the olive green uniform on its peg behind the counter. The bell chimes for the last time today as Jenny walks out with her manicured hand attached to the arm of one of the customers. I turn around to grab my bag, only to find Louie watching the server leave with a shake of his head.

“That girl has no shame,” he begins to rant, raising the spatula in his hand to shake it in disapproval. “I swear, half the time I think the only reason she picked this job was to pick up rich looking males.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at his typical behaviour as I bend down to scoop up my bag from its hiding spot. “What she does is none of our business. For all we know they could be related.”

Louie watches me reach into the confines of my bag for my black hoodie. He gives me the same unreadable look until my head pops through the opening before suddenly declaring, “You're too nice, Mara. You won’t even engage in a little work gossip with me over the girl who gives you hell during your shifts.”
I shrug and straighten up to sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “It's not my place to gossip. You can vent about her to me if you want, and I'll listen, but I won't give my opinions on Jenny.”

“Why not?”

I freeze up at the question, not sure how to answer in a way that won't offend him or Jenny in any way. Feeling his eyes on me, I let out a deep sigh before claiming, “I just don’t like taking part in stuff like that.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me from the subtle raise of his eyebrow. Much like he usually does, Louie chooses not to press me for more details. Part of me feels guilty for giving him the illusion that I'll come clean about everything that’s bothering me when I'm ready. After three years of working under the same roof, he's been surprisingly patient and understanding compared to most of the people I've been exposed to.

And it's because of this that his kindness has me on edge. I keep waiting for the mask to drop, for him to show me he's just like everyone else, but it never has. That doesn’t mean it won’t, though.

Louie's beady eyes travel upwards. He let’s out a low whistle, the action causing the excess skin under his chin to wobble slightly. “It's really late. You sure you’re going to be okay walking home on your own?”
My eyes widen slightly as the dread starts to creep in. My neck cricks as glance over my shoulder at the coffee cup shaped clock on the wall. The dread I feel instantly evaporates at the realisation that the hands haven’t strayed past my curfew yet.

“It's not that far away,” I inform him as I turn around to face him. My eyes widen in surprise at the small paper bag in his outstretched hand. My eyes snap up from the bag to give him a wary look. “Do you want me to make a delivery or..?”
He flashes me an amused smile before thrusting the bag in my direction. “It's dinner. I figured since you missed it you must be hungry.”

That couldn’t have been far from the truth.

I try not to let my nose scrunch up at the thought of consuming whatever pastry he'd stashed into the bag, but I must not have been doing a very good job.

“It's not a week old,” he promises, “and it’s not coming out of your pay either.”

It's safer not to correct his misinterpretation. I flash him a bashful smile that would put any of Kelsey's little acts to shame. “It's not that...”
“Then why aren’t you taking it? It's free food. You should never turn down free food when it’s being offered to you freely.”

This time the smile isn't forced, but I still make no move to grab the bag.
“My house really isn’t that far away. I won’t be hungry for long.”
“Take it anyway,” he said, shoving it in my face once again.
“You shouldn’t waste your money on food I can’t take.”
“Mara, I swear to God, if you don’t take the muffin right now, I'm going to shove it down your throat.”