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“I need you to work the late shift tonight.”
My hand tightens on the mug I’m currently holding and I stare at his back, inhaling deeply to contain the anger threatening to boil over. “I’m sorry,” I start bitterly, “I don’t think I heard correctly. Did you just say—”
“I need you to work the late shift tonight,” Jason repeats easily, his gaze calm as it meets mine. Does he not realize I’ve been working the late shift the last three days? He really needs to hire another employee. It’s just me, Rachel, and Jason at this point, and Rachel can hardly work because she has class and projects due. It’s easy for her to get out of work, not because she’s lazy, but because school comes first. There is another girl, who I can’t recall, but she’s in the same boat as Rachel. Jason was in grad school. Was being the operative word. I have no clue if he graduated, or if he’s even going. Often times, it seems like it’s only the two of us working here, day after day, night after night.
But there’s no way in hell I am taking the late shift. I have a life, things to do—like Open Mic Night. “Not tonight, Jason, I already have plans.”
Something flashes on Jason’s face. It’s small, and quick. I would have missed it if I had blinked: a mixture of desperation and frustration. “It’s just one night,” he has the audacity to say, which releases the Kraken brewing inside me.
“No, it’s not.” I, thankfully, set the mug calmly down on the counter, although part of me really wanted to throw it at him. “You know I’ve been here the last three nights. Besides, it’s Friday night. If you didn’t want to work the night shift, you should have spoken to me at the latest yesterday.”
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jason says with a long drawn-out sigh. “You didn’t complain before.”
He’s playing with fire. I refuse to be manipulated into more work. He’s the manager. If he didn’t want to work the late shift tonight, he should have asked me last week. I’ve had these plans since the weekend. If he decides to push me into more hours, I will quit right here and now. Maybe. If I decide to sign my soul to the devil and write the book on my family.
“I’m complaining now,” I say in a sing-song tone.
Jason grimaces and runs a hand through his hair while the other digs into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes, before he reconsiders and shoves them back inside. “Please, Lucas,” he says, this time pulling out the big guns. Jason is by far not a handsome dude, nor is he the least bit cute, but somehow, his eyes expand, glimmering in the light like some sort of ugly, starving dog I found in a back alley. He laces his hands together while closing the distance between us and I wonder for the briefest second, if he’s going to drop on his knees and beg me right here in front of all the customers. “Please,” he holds out the word as long as possible and I groan.
This will not work, I tell myself. I specifically requested tonight off so I could go to Open Mic. It’s Jason’s problem that he didn’t think things through when he gave me the Friday night. Not to mention, I’m allowed to have a life. This is only a minimum wage job, not a full-on career.
“I have a date tonight,” Jason says, his shoulders slumping, his face growing ashen. He looks nervous, worried.
He’s seriously lucky we have witnesses, otherwise I would smack him for being such an idiot. “Why did you schedule a date tonight when you knew you had to work?” I’m trying to remain calm, but it’s not working. I’m doing all the right things: breathing in and counting to ten, clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to put myself in his shoes.
Honestly, I can’t empathize with him at all. If I’m busy, I’m busy. That’s the end of it.
“I don’t know,” Jason says, leaning against the counter, looking so defeated. “She only had tonight free. She’s so busy with work and classes.”
“Couldn’t you have tried for next week?”
Jason’s face pinches together, his greasy hair falling over his face. “Maybe, but she’s so wonderful. I’m worried she’ll have a guy on her arm if I wait too long.”
I stifle the need to groan, but I do roll my eyes. She has him wrapped around her little pinky already. Who knows what awaits him if they actually do work out? My phone buzzes in my apron, interrupting the long monologue of dating advice I’m about to give him. I’m about to hang up, but stop when I see it’s Lori on caller ID.
“I gotta take this,” I mumble while striding towards the backdoor.
“If you take tonight, you can have the next two Friday nights off!” Jason calls after me.
The door clicks closed behind him, and I wrap an arm around myself, staving off the chill. My breath is frosting as I say, “Hello,” into the receiver. I clench my jaw to keep them from chattering. I should have taken a coat with me, but I didn’t want to make Lori wait too long.
“Lucas!” Lori says cheerfully on the other line. “How are you? I just spoke with my boss and we were wondering what your decision is?”
“O-oh,” I stutter. The wind bustles past and I clench my jaw. I jump up and down, trying to get feeling back into my feet and hands while I say, “I’m still thinking about it.”
“Well, don’t wait too long. We will need to know by the end of next week.”
“N-next week? That soon?” I haven’t even brought this up yet with Rachel and the bros. Every time I think about asking for their advice, I swallow it, knowing they won’t approve. Alex will make a funny face, and honestly, he will be a part of it. His parents haven’t done anything foul, but they have gone to the tea parties, the charities—they’ve seen the drama, sometimes been part of it. It may affect his family just as much as mine.
Hunter and Seth won’t quite understand, but they’re close enough with their families to know when to keep their mouth shut. I know Seth is close with his mom, but even he doesn’t talk about the trauma he suffered as a child. And I know there is trauma. I’ve seen his grimace, his sorrow every time someone brings up family vacations or Christmas. I know his family has nothing, unlike mine.
Rachel, on the other hand—I don’t want to fall from the pedestal she’s put me on. She’s so proud of me for standing up for myself, to sticking to my dreams no matter how hard it seems. I’ve gone from completely useless, breaking things at the cafe, not know how to properly do the dishes, to now being asked to close and open the cafe and work the late-night shift. I’ve moved up in life, but barely. And I want more. What will Rachel say if I choose the path she doesn’t agree with?
“Okay,” I say with a curt nod. “I’ll let you know by then.”
“Perfect. I hope you choose us. We’re even considering giving you a higher bonus for the completed work. It looks good for you, Lucas,” Lori say in a sing-song tone.
I linger outside after the call ends, no longer feeling the cold. Deep down, I know what I should do. I feel like I‘m the rope in tug of war, being pulled from one side to the next, about to be ripped in two. If I follow my heart, I will remain in this cafe, serving coffee to customers who enjoy giving me obnoxious names to call, listening to girls’ giggles, and taking orders. But, if I follow my head, I can finally quit the cafe, move into a nicer place, take Rachel out on nicer dates—if she’ll have me.
