Letting people in has never been my thing. It’s something I’m wary of. I once dated a guy who I told everything to, and poured my heart out in front of, because that’s what you do inrelationships, right? It’s what I’ve learned from all the books and movies, all that jazz. Then my heart got ripped to shreds. I’m saying he surgically removed it from my chest and shoved it into a paper shredder.
A customer leaves, making the chimes ring, bringing me back to reality, back to my current problems.
Unfortunately, but also luckily, my car has been declared not safe to drive due to issues I don’t understand. I’m letting Ralph handle all of that, so until it’s fixed, Jared drops me off at work with a promise to pick me up when my shift ends.
The first few hours of my night shift are steady. There’s a concert happening in town so foot traffic was heavy earlier but now it’s decreasing as the night grows older.
Is It Over Now by Taylor Swift plays in the shop, making me hum along to the song while I’m absentmindedly cleaning and refilling our topping station.
God, I think the chorus is my favorite part. I’ve moved from quietly humming to casually singing, the rhythm syncing with the swish of the sponge as I wipe the counter.
“And did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights. At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight. Only rumors ’bout my hips and thighs and my whispered sighs–”
“Serena?”
I drop the sponge.
You have to be joking.
Calm, cool, collected. I spin around with the brightest smile like I wasn’t just having a party of one. “Hi, what can I get you?” I feel my heart racing out of my chest. I don’t have a mirror near me, but I just know I’m starting to blush at Tyler’s appearance.
He greets me with a cheeky smile and a binder tucked under his arm, “Thai green tea. Less ice, no toppings please.”
“Sure.” I finish the transaction once he hands over a $10 bill and start making his drink.
Why is he here? Just when I thought I could drown myself in work to shove all Tyler’s thoughts, he comes crashing in like a tidal wave.
I finish making his drink and place it on the counter for him. “Here you go.” I pull a black boba straw and lay it on top of the drink.
“Thanks,” He rips out the straw and stabs it into his drink, taking a big sip. “Sorry for just showing up, I texted you earlier.”
My brows furrow together. I reach into my apron and pull out my phone. He did text me a couple of times, but I must’ve been so busy from the earlier rush that I didn’t feel my phone vibrate. “Sorry, we were busy earlier.” I stash my phone back inmy apron and meet his deep blue eyes, “What do you need help with?”
Tyler gestures at the closest booth behind him and I follow along. We only have less than an hour left before we close so I make the executive decision to chill out until we officially close.
We slide in the booth and Tyler opens his binder and slides it towards me. He points at a particular problem, “I’ve been stuck on this for a while. I can’t get the right answer but my work checks out.”
I pull the binder close to me and examine his work. I bite my lip, deep in thought as I check over the problem. Pointing to a specific line in his calculations, I draw out the breath I’d been unconsciously holding, “I think I see where you went wrong. You didn’t account for the sine component in this part, which affects the answer.”
Tyler leans in closer to get a better look, his eyes fixed on my finger as I trace the problem. “Fuck, I see it now,” he says with a relieved smile. “I couldn’t figure out where I went wrong.”
“No problem. It happens.”
Tyler rubs a hand down his face and groans, “I don’t know how I’ll make it through the semester… let alone the year.”
“It’s okay, Tyler. Trigonometry is complicated.”
“We only meet a few times and I’m showing up at your job for just one problem.” Frustration fills Tyler by the way he exhales a long groan, and his chin tilts up in clear irritation. “I’m an idiot sandwich.”
I reach out, placing a comforting hand on his. “You’re not an idiot. Don’t call yourself that.”
“Thanks, but I just feel stuck, like I’m a failure.”
Before I can even think, I blurt out, “We can meet on the weekends if you want for more sessions.”
“I can’t ask you to do that for me. We already meet twice a week.”
I wave a hand like it’s no big deal even though deep down, I think this is a bad idea–more so for me, not him. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
