Cocoa: I’m good. You?
Lo: Chilling.
Cocoa: And the guys?
Lo: Micah’s aight, but Saint’s gloomy as fuck.
Cocoa: What’s wrong?
Lo: He swears you’ll forget him.
Cocoa: I’ll check on him later.
Lo: I wish you were here, chica.
Cocoa: Same. I’ll try to visit Christmas break.
Lo: Cool.
Cocoa: Hopping in the shower… love you.
Lo: Love you too.
In less than an hour, I’m driving through the town’s center, watching people go about their daily routine. I’m wearing my go-to hoop earrings, white halter top, tight burgundy shorts, and sandals. My braids are styled in a high ponytail and fashion square sunglasses cover the top half of my face.
Michael said the townsfolk eat, sleep, and breathe football. The contact sport is an integral part of the town’s history. Most Fridays, and sometimes Saturdays, the citizens gather at the high school stadium, cheering on the team. Tom’s Sandwich Shop catches my eye and I pull into the parking lot. I maneuver my car into an empty space and go inside. Rustic wooden tables and chairs lend the eatery a homey atmosphere. The pastries, bagels, cakes, cookies, and donuts in the display case look delicious.
“Good afternoon,” an employee greets. “What can I get for you?”
I read his name tag. “Hiya, Jackson.”
He has braces and the curse of teenage acne. I wonder if he goes to Montgomery Academy.
“Sup.”
“I’m Cocoa, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he says, smiling.
“Are there any openings available?”
“I’m not sure, but the supervisor is here. I can get him for you.”
“That would be great.”
“Give me a sec.” He walks to the back.
A short man sporting a potbelly and thinning hair emerges from the rear, following behind Jackson.
“Hello, Cocoa, my name is Richard.” He extends his hand, and we shake. “Unfortunately, I’m not hiring at the moment. Try the pizzeria, it’s a couple blocks down the street. Mary is the owner and has difficulty finding reliable employees.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“No problem. Make a left after you leave, then it’s a straight shot. You can’t miss it,” Richard says.
“Awesome.”I’ll walk to the pizzeria since it’s close by.
I’m typing out a text to Saint as I round the corner and collide into what feels like a brick wall. I crash to the ground and the air whooshes from my lungs.
