Jenna spotted me and jerked her chin toward the counter. "Bennett. Register two. Now."
I dropped my bag behind the counter and grabbed an apron with shaking hands.
Ben appeared beside me, already sweating. "Game nights are insane. Just keep moving and you'll be fine."
I nodded. Didn't trust my voice.
The first customer shoved forward before I finished tying the apron strings.
"Medium coffee. Two creams."
I fumbled with the register. Typed the order twice before it registered.
"That'll be?—"
"Four-fifty, I know. Here." A five-dollar bill slapped the counter.
I grabbed change. Handed it back. Turned to pour the coffee and nearly collided with Ben reaching for cups.
"Sorry—"
"Don't apologize." Jenna's voice cut through the noise. "Just move."
I moved.
Cups. Lids. Napkins. Next customer. Repeat.
The line never shrank.
A woman with perfect makeup and a jersey two sizes too small leaned over the counter. "Iced latte. Almond milk. Extra shot. And don't mess it up like last time."
"I... this is my first game shift."
Her expression went flat. "Great. So you will mess it up."
Heat crawled up my neck. "I'll do my best?—"
"Whatever." She waved dismissively and turned to complain to the man beside her.
I made the latte with trembling hands. Double-checked the milk. Added the extra shot. Handed it over without meeting her eyes.
She took it without acknowledgment and disappeared into the crowd.
My throat burned.
Breathe.
Another customer. Another order. The register beeped. Coins scattered across the counter when I tried counting change too fast.
"Sorry—"
"Bennett." Jenna shot me a look. "Stop."
I bit my lip and scooped the coins back up.
The crowd roared—sudden, deafening. Something good happened on the ice. Players scored. Fans screamed approval.
I flinched hard enough to slosh coffee over the rim of the cup I'd been filling.
