"I hate hangovers," I groan into the receiver. I'm hanging half way across the counter at The Brew on a lazy Saturday morning.
"I'm pretty sure you can't get a hangover from just attending a party," Taylen states as a matter of fact on the other end of the phone call.
"Sure does feel like it."
"You're just experiencing sleep loss from staying out late," she laughs, probably at my lack of experience regarding the party scene. I don't mind it. She was kind enough to drive me home last night without asking a single question about the dried tears on my cheeks or the puffiness of my eyes. She still hasn't said a thing about it and for that I'm forever grateful. "Don't you feel alive?"
"I just feel tired," I sigh. I wish I could sleep, 'cause staying at the café when there are no customers is a waste of time. Time that I could spend sleeping.
"You need to embrace life," Taylen chuckles into the phone.
"I did embrace life and look what it got me; a killer headache." I groan as I rest my phone between my ear and shoulder and use both of my hands to rub at my sore temples.
"Whiner," she tells me in the most childish voice I've ever heard. It kind of reminds me of my two-years-old nephew.
"You would be too if you had to be up for work at five."
"Whatever." I can basically hear her roll her eyes through the phone. "At least you don't have to babysit all day."
"Speaking of, are you supposed to be on the phone?" I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to babysitting, but I've been around children enough to know that they need constant supervision.
"They'll be alright." She sounds too confident for my liking; Taylen is horrible around children. Even her own siblings.
"What did you do?" I ask suspiciously. Usually when I'm on the phone with Taylen it's a whirl of disaster on the other end of the line but it's too quiet this time.
"Nothing," she promises me in a high-pitched voice.
"Really?"
"Okay, so I might have threaten them a bit to get them to shut up." I can't hold back my laughter as she finishes her sentence.
"You're horrible with kids," I tell her mid-laughter.
"It's not my problem that my cousin keeps asking me to babysit," she exclaims. She's right, but it kind of is her own fault for saying yes all of the time, when everyone knows she hates kids. She won't even babysit her own siblings when her parents go out.
"You could say no."
"Eh, the money's good," she tells me, before our conversation is interrupted by the sound of a loud crash echoing through the phone. It sounds like porcelain being smashed against the kitchen floor and scattered into a thousand pieces. "Shit, I have to go."
"Told you, you should have kept an eye on them." I can't help but laugh at her. It's so typical Taylen to think that she has everything under control and then have hell break lose behind her back.
"Shut up," is the last thing she tells me before she ends the call.
I'm still laughing by the time the bell across the door chimes and Clark steps into the café. "Finally," I groan in relief at the sight of him.
"Hey Cassidy, you ready to head home?" he chuckles as he joins me behind the counter and slips his bag off his shoulder.
"You could say that," I sigh.
"Quiet day, huh?"
"Dead to say the least," I inform him as I take a seat on the counter and watch Clark as he slips a mandatory The Brew apron over his head. "I don't think I've had a single customer today."
"Bummer," he groans, his eyes instantly looking tired. "Let's hope it turns around for me, huh?" he says as he nudges me teasingly in the side with his elbow. I don't pull away from his touch as I do most people. Having worked alongside him for over a year I've grown accustomed to his teasing nudges and silly comments.
Clark is my favorite; he has been since my first day at The Brew. He told me everything I needed to know and taught me how to operate the high tech coffee machine. In some way Clark is like my fairy Godmother, except for the beard and the masculine shoulders. Even though his first year of college is coming to an end Clark doesn't seem to mind the fact that I'm only a senior in high school. He never treats me with snarky comments or dirty looks, the way most college students treat high school kids around here. He aspires to make me smile. I still remember our first shift together: he had pulled me aside during our lunch break and declared that his new mission was to make me laugh every time he saw me. He hasn't failed himself, or me, once since then.
"I hope so for your sake," I laugh. "Sitting around here sucks."
"Feels like of a waste of time, doesn't it?"
"It's the worst," I declare as the bell above the door chimes, announcing customers for the first time today. "Guess that's my clue," I smile as I push myself off the counter and walk towards the back office to gather my things as Clark handles the customers.
The back office is big enough to fit a desk with a matching chair and a small safe, but nothing much more than that. My bag is neatly resting on top of the desk and my coat is resting over the back of the chair. I swing my bag over my shoulder and cradle my coat in my arms, not bothering to put it on just yet. Then I clock out, using the computer atop the desk.
Clark is busy joggling three different cups and pushing buttons on the coffee machine, once I emerge from the office. I'm about to offer him my help before I leave but I'm interrupted by a familiar voice, pulling my attention towards their conversation.
"Justin, did you hear what I just said?" Ryland asks. Chad, Justin and he are seated at table closest to the counter.
Justin sighs and settles his phone on the table, before he looks up right in my direction. I quickly take a step backwards towards the office, so that a wall creates a barrier between his prying eyes and me. I hold my breath as I silently pray that he hasn't caught sight of me. "I don't know. Sorry man," he continues, his voice indifference. I exhale. "I guess I zoned out for a bit."
"Or zoned on to someone else," Ryland accuses. "You've been glued to the phone for a week - who's more interesting than your best friends?"
"No one," Justin exclaims.
"Is it a girl?" Chad questions intrigued.
"No," he answers a little too quickly.
"So it's a girl," Chad declares, then asks: "Is she hot?"
"What?" Justin asks defensively.
"Yes or no - it's a simple question, man," Ryland states. He still sounds a little annoyed with Justin's lacking attention, but the subject of a girl has made him sound more interested than annoyed.
"I'm not going to tell you."
"So she's ugly," Chad declares with a snicker.
"What? No."
"Is it your mom?" Chad asks suspiciously. "'Cause dude your mom is totally hot." Chad has barely finished his sentence before the sound of a smack echoes through the café. I don't doubt that it's Ryland who's given him a solid smack to the back head, the way that he always does when Chad oversteps his boundaries.
"Who is she?" Ryland asks. He sounds almost demanding this time. I know that I should stop eaves dropping and retract to the back office until they disappear, but the possibility of Justin's attention haven been caught by someone other than Samantha makes me undeniably curious.
"She's just some girl I met online." That's when my heart bursts from its cage and explodes into a million pieces. Could Justin Bieber really be my online hero? My brain works on overload to process this new information and make sense of the jigsaw puzzle that has become my life, as their conversation continues.
"What do you know about her?"
"All I have is a name," he sighs. He almost sounds sad and it tucks at my heartstrings. Then I remember who he is and every single bad word that's ever crossed his lips in relation to me and then my hatred returns.
"Dude, that's creepy," Chad exclaims. "What if it's a guy?"
"Like that show on MTV."
"She's not a guy," Justin insists.
"How do you know?" Ryland questions suspiciously. "Have you actually seen her?"
"No," Justin sighs in defeat. "She doesn't even know who I am. All she knows is my first name and my screen name. She thinks I'm some kind of hero," he snorts.
"How can you be sure she's who she says she is, then?"
"I just know, okay?" he snaps at his friends. I'm surprised at how much the topic seems to bother him.
"As long as you know what you're doing, man."
"Does she have any hot friends?" Chad asks, lightening the conversation. His question earns him another smack in the back of his head.
"You're an idiot," Ryland snorts.
"Never claimed otherwise," Chad states proudly and the three guys erupt in chuckles.
"Guys, your order is ready," Clark announces from the counter. The three guys stand to get their drinks. Then they disappear out into the streets again and I'm finally able to breathe freely again.
"Hey, you alright?" Clark asks, as he spots me leaning against the wall.
"I'm fine," I lie, as I pull on my hair tie and let my hair cascade down around my face to hide the tears welling up in my eyes as I too exit the café.
//AN: I love all of your sweet and funny comments and I can't thank you enough for them, they are what keeps me going - you guys are so awesome!! Tell me; what do you think Cassidy will do with this new found information?//