Everly laughs. “Definitely not.”
“Tell us something about yourself. Help us get to know you,” a voice calls out.
I turn toward the room. They need to get to know me. Okay, well, I guess that makes sense. “I have the best faceoff win percent in the league.”
There’s a long silence.
“A faceoff is—” I start.
Then suddenly… I get booed.
Fucking booed.
The woman who starts it is sitting at a table in the center of the room. She’s wearing a bright multicolored shirt, lime-greenpants, and a purple hat. I recognize her. She was carrying a picket sign at the arena. It’s Muriel.
But several people join in, including her sister, Patty, who is sitting to her left, dressed in a much more muted outfit of lavender and white.
My eyes widen. The only times I’ve been booed, it’s by opposing teams' fans, and I fucking earned that. They boo me because I’m amazing and I’m going to kick their team’s asses.
I’ve definitely never been booed in a coffee shop.
A few more people get up from their tables and come to the register. I back up. Then I realize what I did and brace myself.
But all they do is lay money next to the register and then tuck dollar bills into the jar with my name on the front.
Come on. Biting into a cookie and expecting a chocolate chip but getting a raisin is bullshit. There is no one here who thinks that’s worse than me?
I pull out my wallet and take out a ten-dollar bill. I step forward and tuck it into the jar about the raisins.
Everly snorts.
“You’ll be happy to know that all of this money gets collected and taken to the same place at the end of the week.”
“And where is that?”
“The library for new books, after school clubs, and supplies for the Parks and Rec department.” She gives me a knowing grin.
“Isn’t the Parks and Rec department supported by the city? Taxes and stuff?”
“Sure. That’s why it’s always underfunded. And Nora has… grand ideas. Her grandpa Bruce enables her.” Everly grins. “Well, the rest of the town too, since they always put money in the jars no matter what’s on the front. I guess it’s kind of in lieu of tips. Which Bruce doesnotearn.”
“This.” I gesture between the jars. “Is rude.”
She nods and finishes off her coffee. “Very.”
“Can I sit next to you while I eat?”
But she’s already sliding off her stool and pulling money from her front pocket. Cash like everyone else. She unfolds a ten and leans over to add it to the stack of money next to the register. “Sorry. I have to get to work.”
“Is that seriously how everyone pays their bills here?”
She nods. “We all know how much everything costs. A lot of us get the same things over and over. But nobody would ever want to stiff Bruce. This is the cost plus tip.”
“And you just pile it up next to the register? No one’s ever going to swipe it? Or walk out and forget to pay?”
Her eyes round with horror. “No one would ever steal from Bruce or stiff him. And if someone saw someone do that, that person wouldn’t get more than two steps outside the door.”
“Where is Bruce?”
