[Jasmyn] Made it to school without being kidnapped or molested.
[Dex] Smartass. Have a good day. See you tonight.
You too. Love you.
His heart squeezed as he typed back.
Love you too.
He made it to work with only a few minutes to spare, and he’d been so caught up in the hectic morning that he’d barely had time to worry aboutfacing Cya. But as he pushed into the cafe, nerves flurried up his throat, lodging somewhere near his Adam’s apple.
The nerves were for naught, though, because Cya wasn’t behind the espresso machine. Willow was. Rusty worked the register as the Dryad hectically made drinks. Customers were lined up nearly to the door, and most of the tables in the dining area still needed to be cleared from the early morning rush.
“Shit.” Dex jogged to Quin’s office to deposit his bags. “Where’s Cya?”
Quin glanced up from her laptop. “Called off sick.”
His stomach plummeted to his toes. “Oh.”
“I need you to step up today, Dex.” She stood and rounded the desk, her blazer hanging open to reveal her growing belly. “We’re short-handed, and for some reason, everyone and their brother has decided to stop in for coffee.”
“Don’t worry, Mama. I got this,” he declared confidently, deflating slightly when she arched a reprimanding eyebrow. “I’m gonna walk that mama-comment right on back. I thought it was cute because of your baby bump, but I see now it was the wrong call.”
Her mouth twitched, like she was fighting a smile, and he relaxed. “Don’t worry about a thing, Quin. Dex is here to save the day.”
With a soft chuckle, she clapped his shoulder. “Good man. Now get out there before Rusty has a meltdown and mauls a customer.”
“Roger that.” He saluted, but before he left the office completely, he ducked his head back in and asked, “Did they say what was wrong?”
“Who?” Quin asked absently, already sifting through a pile of papers that looked like job applications.
“Never mind,” he mumbled as he shut the door behind him.
The first few hours of his shift were just as hectic and stressful as the start to his morning had been, but by eleven, the flow of customers slowed. Rusty cleared the dining area as Dex wiped down behind the counter and helped Willow restock the dairy and mood syrups.
“You’re really good at making coffee,” Dex said as he rinsed out the used blenders.
Willow smiled sweetly at him, rubbing a rough, bark-like hand on his biceps. “Thanks. It’s not my favorite task, but I was Gem’s back-up before Oliver joined us, so I’m most familiar with the espresso machine.”
“I could learn,” he offered hesitantly. “I might not be very good at it, but if we need more people to know how to make drinks, then I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Like anything, it just takes practice. I’m sure you’d be wonderful at it,” the Dryad said in her breezy voice. “I know Quin’s trying to fast-track some new hires, but not a lot of people want to work in Purgatory. Too long of a commute.”
That made sense. Even Dex had questioned taking the job for precisely that reason. But the flexible hours and competitive pay made it worth the travel, especially with his public transportation student discount. Plus, he’d had a good gut feeling, and since destiny had never steered him wrong before, he’d trusted it.
Thinking of destiny made him think of Cya, and he pulled out his phone, opening their text chain. He stopped himself from typing, battling with himself. He just wanted to make sure they were okay, but he didn’t want to force his friendship on them any more than he already had. It was clearly not welcome, and he deserved to have friends who wanted to be his friend too, right?
“Hey, Willow, can I ask your advice about something?”
The Dyrad brushed her ivy-vined hair behind her back and nodded. “Of course.”
“So, let’s say someone tells you they don’t want to be your friend, but then they kinda act like they do want to be your friend. Like, they choose to hang out with you when they don’t have to, and they get the lift in your building fixed so that you don’t have to climb six flights of stairs. But they’re also not always nice to you, and you’re pretty sure they don’t actually mean it, but it still isn’t nice.
“And then they show up to class really upset, but when you try to ask them what’s wrong, they just blow up at you, even though you didn’t do anything wrong. And they’re all, ‘Dex, stop being a doormat. You shouldn’t let me be so mean to you.’ So you get mad at them back and say things that are kinda true but also kinda mean, especially when you’re shouting it at them. And then they cry, and you feel really bad about it.
“But then your sister calls and distracts you, and when you turn around, they’re gone. So then it’s like, okay, cool. Zero closure. Love that for me. And then they don’t come to work the next day, so I’m left feeling guilty, like it’s my fault somehow. But I can’t ask them, because they said they don’t want to be friends, and I’ve already crossed their boundaries before, so I don’t want to do it again.”
He finally stopped talking so he could suck in a lungful of air, grimacing at Willow’s wide green eyes. “So what would you do? You know, hypothetically.”
