Page 15 of Lucas

***

Abby

I love my job,I really do, but some days I’d love to stay in bed and play hooky. Today is one of those days. I’m just not feeling it, but since I have bills to pay like a million other folks getting up at the butt crack of dawn, I slip out of bed and hit the ice-cold floor.

No one’s here to hear me piss and moan, but I do it anyway for my own peace of mind. I truly try to look at the glass as half full, but as of late, I’ve been a Debbie Downer. My life is not the most exciting—hell, if I’m being honest it’s not at all. In all fairness, I don’t have the drama a lot of other girls have, either. When I’m caught up in all of my friends’ break-up drama, I suppose I should be happy it’s not me in their place.

My mindset changes the second I step inside the shower and the scalding water hits my achy bones. Once I’ve finished shaving, scrubbing, and shampooing, I linger just a tad bit longer for the hell of it because getting up at four in the morning sucks ass. Still, I need to be my cheery self when I unlock the doors at Java Joe’s since no one likes a grumpy barista first thing in the morning.

I’m humming one ofThe Sinful Seven’s songs as I unlock the back door and step inside the coffee shop. The scent of cinnamon permeates the air, and I swear I can taste it on my tongue. If I were in a grumpy mood, the sweet smell of pastries baking would surely pull me out of the funk. Our pastry chef, Theresa, comes in on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. And I swear I gain ten pounds just from smelling all of her sweet treats. I’m sure it doesn’t help that I steal a few of them as they’re hot out of the oven.

After locking up my personal items and washing my hands, I prepare for the morning rush. You’d be surprised how many people are waiting in line when I unlock the front door. Thankfully, Maria will be here before that happens. I can’t imagine handling a crowd of this size all alone, first thing on a Monday morning.

I’m about to go back into the kitchen when Theresa strides in carrying one of her huge trays filled with mouthwatering creations. “Good morning, Abigail. I made you your favorite cinnamon buns today. I set them on the back counter so you could enjoy them for breakfast.” She winks at me before sliding the tray into the pastry case.

“You’re spoiling me, Theresa. Thank you.” I can’t wait to sink my teeth into the sweet, buttery goodness, but I need to finish my opening chores first.

Maria walks in as soon as everything’s done, so after we chat a bit, I sneak into the back with a cup of coffee and devour every little crumb of cinnamon bun. Please don’t judge. I’ll need all the sugar I can get my hands on to get me through my shift.

The line outside’s been forming for about twenty minutes now and I try taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. It’s not like me to be anxious like this, so I’ll blame my lack of sleep for this one. I admit I feel out of sorts and don’t understand why. There’s no time to dwell on it since Maria just opened the doors and customers are pouring in. Maybe that’s a good thing since I have to concentrate on doing my job.

Time flies by so fast that I don’t have a single minute to glance at the clock. But now that the morning rush is over, I need some time to pull myself together. Just when I’m about to go into the backroom, the bell rings. When I glance up to greet yet another customer, someone special stands there. I rush around the counter so fast, I swear the wind just about knocks over Maria.

His arms open wide and I launch myself into them without a care. “Adam, why didn’t you warn me you were coming?”

“And spoil the surprise? Never. How’s my favorite girl doing?” His cologne is so familiar that I feel like I’m home.

“Better now that you’re here. When did you get in? Why didn’t you call me?” I have so many questions and I don’t know where to start.

“I took the red eye last night, got a few hours of sleep, and now I’m here with you. But I can’t stay long, I have a business meeting in an hour, then I’m driving to New Hampshire for three days. When I get back, I’d love to spend some quality time with you.”

Deep down I know he’s a busy man, and I should be thankful for this small window of time. But I can’t help being angry at him since I’m working and he didn’t plan. Adam’s always been reckless and unprepared where I’m concerned. Maybe my sixth sense was kicking in this morning and warning me of his visit.

“Maria, I’m going to take a break. I’ll jump in if it gets busy.” I motion for Adam to grab a seat, then go behind the counter and make him his usual latte. I warm up a cinnamon bun and take everything over to his table. I can’t help wondering if one day I’ll be important enough to be someone’s everything.

“I might have been able to take the morning off if I’d known you were coming. We could have spent some quality time together.” I’m agitated when his fingers don’t stop texting long enough to hear a word I say. “Adam, why are you here?”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I really wanted to catch up a bit, but it will have to wait until I get back. See if you can get some time off at the end of the week and we’ll spend the entire day together.”

Seriously? Whatever!

“It’s getting busy now,” I say, emotionless. “Stay for as long as you’d like, but I need to get back to work and help Maria.” I don’t bother saying goodbye, I just go behind the counter, wash my hands, and help the next customer in line. It doesn’t matter anyway—Adam doesn’t realize I’m gone.

Wrath

“Wrathcan’t be measured, it has no expiration date. So, I bury it somewhere deep down inside. Until the time comes, when I can set it free.”

Lucas Knight

10

Lucas

My hand hurts like a motherfucker,but thank god my head isn’t any worse for the wear. Nothing a bottle of water or two and some pain pills can’t cure. I refused to get all fucked up like the night before, because I realized the only one I was hurting was myself. I’m sure dear old dad is going about his everyday business without giving me as much as a second thought. Only fair I do the same. I need to focus on the band and practice, practice, practice, as much as possible. Hey, they say practice makes perfect, right? And, as of right now, I’m shutting down the drama so it doesn’t impede our success.

After icing my hand for as long as I can stand the tingling numbness that goes along with it, I grab my backpack and head out the door. I’m leaving my acoustic behind since Trevor has everything I’ll need back at his house. It’s an old Victorian and has more rooms than all of our apartments combined.

I debate stopping in at my favorite coffee joint as I pass by, but I keep on walking. I’m afraid if Abby is there, I might get sidetracked and will bend her over in the supply closet to get rid of some of this tension in my shoulders, amongst other places. Besides, I’ve already pumped my body with enough caffeine this morning, short of inserting an IV drip.

---