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TWO
LAYANA
Above the café’s dangling plastic cloud decorations, fluorescent lights buzzed. Across the room, giant percolators hummed as they brewed fresh batches of coffee. Along the wall behind me, cooling dispensers full of fruity sweet teas babbled as slowly churning blades stirred.
It was a symphony of white noise engineered to ease people into a level of tired contentment that primed them to purchase another dose of caffeine.
When I’d first started working the overnight shift at Eterni-Tea, I’d expected that I’d be paid to tend an empty shop. Those quiet hours would be the perfect opportunity to write.
Instead, on any given night, a surprising number of people came by to enjoy a late-night fix. It turned out that there weren’t really fewer customers, just weirder ones. Worse, working overnight had been hell on my social life, and no matter how Herculean my effort, I still couldn’t produce a freaking blog post.
A little after midnight, after three hours dealing with a steady stream of customers, I finally got my first lull. I slipped my laptop from my messenger bag and waited for the beast to start up. She clonked and sputtered.
“You can do it,” I assured the old girl.
The laptop whirred. The screen lit up.
I gave her a gentle pat and laid my fingers over the keyboard. The smooth surface of the keys felt comforting and right. I stared at the empty screen, willing the words to flow.
You can do this. Write something. Anything.
I tried to let my thoughts flow into inspiration land. When I closed my eyes, the only image I could manage was an unpleasant one.
I saw Maxim standing in the hall, scowling at my door. A growl burst through my lips. My fingers crushed the keys.
Pleased I’d summoned actual words, I leaned forward and read the only sentence on my screen.
Maxim is poop.
Ugh.I deflated. What an eloquent, evocative sentiment.
Abandoning my pathetic attempt, I leaned against the back cabinets and opened up my phone. I typed out my reply to Juno’s macaron video since I’d missed the live chat and still wanted to show her my support.
Gorgeous! Can’t wait to try that raspberry vanilla goodness!
I would not be attemptingto make a heart sculpture of fancy cookies myself, but I’d happily help her eat the cookies she’d made.
With my comment sent, I set my phone on the counter and leaned my head back. The oscillating machine gently pressed into me with a rhythmic thump. The sound and vibration numbed my skull and neck, and with any luck it’d do the same to my brain.
Six months ago, I’d have wanted nothing more than to be living Juno’s life. My dream had been to make it onto reality TV, which I’d managed. But even more so, it had been to win the competition. I had thought all I’d have to do was get accepted onto a show, any show, and I’d have the skills and charisma to assure my victory.
But once I was actually cast onWhat the What?, the experience was nothing like I’d expected. Ferocious drive wasn’t enough.
Juno won.
Now that it was over, I’d lost the drive that had shot me from the tiny town of Cricket Falls like a jetpack of purpose, dragging my best friend Morgan with me. That sureness that I was exactly where I needed to be, doing exactly what I needed to do, was gone. I could try for another show, but I didn’t even want to anymore.
I envied the contentment Juno felt in finding her calling as a food influencer. I also envied the prize money she won on the show. But mostly I envied the fact that she knew exactly what she wanted from life, and she was living it. My best friend Morgan was the same—achieving her dream of becoming a costume designer for the theater big leagues. They were both living their best lives.
As my friends soared to their own personal greatness, they left me behind in this…percolating purgatory.
The door opened.
I mindlessly recited the required script, “Welcome to Eterni-Tea, home to day 'n' night delights. What can I?—”
A small, shapeless figure appeared in the doorway wearing pajama pants, socks with sandals, and a hoodie. She pulled the hood’s drawstrings so tightly that only her nose and mouth stuck out of the head hole, while also gripping a stack of papers in her hands.
I sighed. Dani—Eterni-Tea’s most irregular of regulars—knew the spiel already, so I let it drop and said instead, “It’s only you.”
