Chapter 1
Cecilia
I’ve refilled all of the drinks, prepped the empty tables, and served all of the customers—ensuring they each got their favorite jams and syrups. It’s easy since everyone orders the same thing every day.
The firefighters will arrive in a few minutes as long as they’re not on a call.
Which leaves me with an idle five minutes—the perfect amount of time to sort through my photos to update my socials. I head to my phone that’s on the charger at the far end of the counter.
The only customer down here is the reclusive girl whose hoodie and hunched posture always make it clear she doesn’twant to be bothered, especially for small talk. My bestie and I call her Ofelia. She’s the easiest regular I have and tips well, so I shouldn’t complain. Wish I had her kind of money.
Not many people my age can buy an old barber shop and plan to renovate it.
Scrolling through the photos of my weekend outing with my boyfriend, I choose one where we actually look happy.
A low rumble catches my attention.
The fire truck pulls in front of the diner and parks on the street. Firefighters pile out. I glance at the corner booth, making sure no one swiped a packet of silverware.
The crew’s a few minutes early. Kudos to them. I barely make it to work on time consistently. Overall, I suppose, it’s good news because it means they’re not on a call this morning. One less moment of tragedy in this boring-as-fuck small town.
“Who’s that?” Ofelia says—the first words she’s spoken to me other than to place her order. She’s pointing at my phone.
“Me and my boyfriend.”
“Oh!” She returns her focus to her strawberry-rhubarb muffin, leaving me hanging.
For a second, I thought she was going to shake things up and converse. Perhaps three words was enough for one day. I humor myself by deciding she’ll work up to more words tomorrow. Maybe I’ll even get her name at some point.
I’ve tried, but she doesn’t want to talk about her life, doesn’t need a friend, and actually told me that it’s best if I’m a nobody to her. What has she been through that she would say that? She should be living her best life, having fun.
Off her continued clue that she wants to be left alone, I shift my attention and greet the firefighters as they enter, wondering if they chose that profession to balance the boredom of this town? I consider the career for half a second before recognizing it’s not for me.
I follow them to their favorite booth.
“What’s it going to be today, boys?” I like calling them boys even though they’re all older than me. Every single time I do it, I hope that one of them will say something. They don’t. I’ll have to come up with something different.
A chorus of “I’ll take the usual” answers my question… as always… every single time.
I force my pleasant smile and head to the computer to enter the orders. Maybe there’s a bright side. Tree huggers would be happy that I don’t have to waste a piece of paper on their ticket.
The second I turn around, Caleb, who owns a local construction company, sits at the counter. “Morning, Cecilia, I’ll take my usual.”
I nod. My pleasant smile hides my desire to scream. I turn around, relieved that I can go back to what’s probably resting bitch face as I tap his order in and my soul slowly dies.
Then I get an idea. What if I’m part of the problem by letting this methodical madness continue? What if I could help the zombies break free?
With a true smile on my face, I step in front of Caleb. “Feel like shaking things up today?”
His brow furrows. “I’m married.”
A huge serving of unexpected laughter turns into a coughing fit before I compose myself. “Not like that. I meant your breakfast.”
Still suspicious, Caleb asks, “Why would I change my breakfast?”
“Cinnamon rolls are fresh out of the oven. The red velvet pancakes are like breakfast and dessert rolled into one, and have you ever tried pomegranate juice?”
“Thanks for offering. I’ll stick with the usual.”
