"Georgie." I knock on her door lightly the next morning, pushing it open with my fingers as I try to untangle my headphones.
She groans in response, blinking heavily from where she's sprawled out over the bed. "I'm going for a walk. Do you need anything?"
"It's the middle of the night," she complains, burrowing her head against her pillow. "Why are you walking now?"
"Georgie, it's 7:30 in the morning."
"That counts as the middle of the night on a Saturday."
I smile as she rolls onto her side, meeting my much livelier gaze. "Where are you gonna go?"
"I don't know, I thought I'd go around town, maybe look for a part-time job."
"We've only been here for two days." She yawns and stretches but doesn't get up from underneath her blankets. "Are you okay to go by yourself?"
"I'm sure I'll be fine," I tease her quietly, stepping out of her room, and she's already asleep again when I close her door.
I pull my sneakers over each of my feet and place my headphones in, jogging down the stairs to the outside street. It's a crisp morning and the sky is perfectly blue, a good distraction from what I witnessed last night at the fighting match.
Boston is busy and bustling all the time, so different from my little town back home. I have to give Dad credit; he didn't call me at all yesterday. Instead, he left almost ten messages until I replied, but that's what he's like. I know he's trying to give me as much 'space' as he can.
This is so new to me, all of this independence and adult responsibility that I've never really had to deal with before. I know it's new for Mom and Dad too. We used to do so much together and now we're hours apart.
I feel like a part-time job is a good option, especially once college starts. Dad's told me not to worry so many times, that he's more than happy to pay for everything and anything for me. I'm incredibly grateful to have such caring, kind parents, but at the same time, I'm not comfortable with them spending that much money on me.
The streets distract me from my thoughts. Kids, couples, and women in workout gear like me walk down the shared pathway. A few offer kind smiles that help me feel a little more at home than I have over the last few days.
Near the corner of a quieter street, the looming smell of rich coffee catches my attention and I immediately find myself turning in its direction. A quaint little shop with a brightly decorated exterior stands out brightly, MOLLY'S painted in bold across the top in capital letters.
What catches my attention most, however, is the small handwritten note in the corner of the window.
Staff wanted!
I find myself stepping inside and pulling the headphones from my ears, tucking them into my jacket pocket.
"Good morning, love." A kind-looking old lady smiles behind the counter. There are a few people scattered about the homely space and I already like the feel of the rustically designed coffee shop.
"Morning." I return her smile, stepping more closely to the counter. "Could I please have a hot chocolate?"
"Of course, sweetie." Her bright eyes examine my fingers that lift the small piece of paper from the window asking for new staff. "Are you looking for a job?"
"I thought I better, I've only recently moved here," I answer politely as she begins to make my drink.
"Me too, in a way. I only opened this store a few months ago."
"You must be Molly then?" Her smile widens as she nods, heating the milk carefully with her fingers. "You have a lovely café. It reminds me of my hometown."
"Ah, so you're from a small town too?" her warm voice asks as she examines me. My hair is in a knotty bun on my head and my face is free of everything but moisturiser. I definitely could've put a little more effort into my appearance before I walked in to ask about a job.
"As small as they come. I'm still trying to adjust to the busyness of Boston, actually," I admit.
"Well, would you like an interview?" Molly asks.
"Pardon?" I stumble over my words as she chuckles, spinning whipped cream around the top of my cup. I must've heard her wrong, surely.
She's offering me a job interview?
"I would love that." I do my best to pull my shocked self together. "When would work for me to come in?"
"How about right now?" she questions, and I gap at her.
"Right now?" I repeat. "Are you sure you aren't busy?"
She gestures around to the currently empty cafe and smiles at me.
"First question," she says boldly. "How old are you and what are you doing in Boston?"
I smile back at her. Is this her idea of a job interview? "I'm 19 and I've moved to Boston for college, I'm an English major."
"Have you ever had a part-time job before?" She continues her questioning, though I notice she isn't taking any notes.
"I worked part-time as a waitress at a diner during senior year," I answer. "I didn't make coffee, but my chocolate shakes were always popular."
"Okay." Molly nods. "I would like to offer you a trial run working for me, just a couple of days a week."
"You would?" I ask, shocked. "That was barely a proper interview."
"You're a sweet girl from a small town. I can see a lot of myself in you — maybe from a long time ago now — but you're the kind of person I'd love working in my cafe."
"Really?" Her laughter grows louder at the shock that's obvious on my face. "But — I've never actually made professional coffee before. I have no experience as a barista."
"That doesn't matter. You are warm and friendly, that's the most important thing about working in a cafe. It's not hard for me to teach you how to make coffee." She hands me my cup and declines the money I try to give her. "This one's on the house. If you'd like the position, you're more than welcome to come in on Monday and I'll teach you all you need to know. We can talk about pay and hours then, but only if you'd like to, of course."
"No, that's brilliant." I return her wide smile, still undeniably surprised and ecstatic. "Really, thank you so much. I won't let you down."
"I'm sure you won't, love." She pats my hand, her friendly exterior matching her lovely café, and I can't help but get a grandma-like feel from her. "I'll see you on Monday then?"
"Definitely." I grip the warm cup of hot chocolate she made me between my fingers, not able to take the wide grin from my lips. "I really do appreciate this, Molly."
I almost spring back to our apartment a couple of hours later, the smile still not able to disappear from my lips. Molly and I ended up talking for much longer than either of us had planned. I'm going to work Mondays, Wednesdays, and a few hours on both Saturday and Sunday to begin with until I see how I cope with the workload college brings, and I couldn't be more excited. I'm starting to settle in to Boston faster than I first thought I would. I'll have to call Mom and Dad to tell them later.
"Georgie, you'll never guess what..." I hold a few grocery bags in each of my hands as I open the front door, not expecting my best friend to be straddling Isaac who's completely shirtless on our sofa.
"Uh — sorry, I didn't realise —" I mumble awkwardly, unsure of where to look as Georgie quickly climbs off his lap, throwing him his shirt that he hastily pulls over his head.
She runs a hand through her hair, offering me a flustered smile that Isaac also shares. "Hey, Ava."
"Hey, guys?" I place the groceries on the bench as they move to opposite sides of the room. I send Georgie an unsure look; we only met Clarke and Isaac a couple of days ago and she's already making out with one of them in our apartment? I guess I can't judge or say anything about it. She can do what she likes.
"Sorry, I didn't realise you'd be home by now." Georgie lowers her voice as she walks towards me, offering an apologetic hand squeeze. "Thanks for buying some food, do you need money for it?"
"Don't be silly, it's fine." I can't help but feel slightly bad for Isaac, who looks rather embarrassed. "Would you guys like some lunch?" I gesture to the hot chicken and buns I decided to grab to ease the tension in the room and Georgie nods eagerly.
"When do I ever say no to food?" I giggle at this as Isaac makes his way over to help. Georgie definitely doesn't say no to eating very often.
Maybe things are slowly starting to figure themselves out? Boston may not be as bad as I first thought.