The Novel Graveyard
This is my original, unedited work.
THE COFFEE BREAK-UP
This was the place. After two weeks and fourteen applications, someone had finally called me for an interview. Thank God, because my dad's never-ending pockets had suddenly dried up. Apparently giving up your summer to live with your father didn't entitle you to unlimited cash flow. Please. Lately I couldn't even get him to buy me a latte. This was quickly becoming the worst summer of my life.
Smoothing out the fabric of my sundress, I took a deep breath and pulled open the heavy glass door to the entrance of The Coffee Break. As I stepped inside, a beastly white dog jumped up from next to the counter and barreled towards me. I gasped.
"Bear," the redhead behind the register called. She didn't look particularly worried. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice.
The dog crashed against my legs, knocking me back a few steps. He began lapping at me with his tongue and sticking his muzzle in places it didn't belong. I glanced around, hoping for some assistance. None of customers were looking at me. None of the staff, either. Uh, help?
"Stop," I whispered to the dog, trying to move his face away. I liked dogs just fine. Just not giant white ones that sniffed at my crotch in public places. Gross. He was really going for it, too.
What was a dog doing in a coffee shop anyway? It wasn't like he was here for the house blend. And he definitely wasn't a Seeing Eye dog, not when he ran up and violated people like this.
The girl snapped her fingers and the dog turned, trotting away like I didn't even exist. It almost hurt my feelings, how quickly he forgot about me. I exhaled, but when I looked down, I saw that he'd put a huge wet spot on the front of my dress. Great. I looked like I'd peed myself. My interview was off to an awesome start.
I glanced at the girl behind the register and she shrugged, resting her elbows on the high bar top of the side counter. Was that an apology for her dog ruining my dress? It didn't really look like one. She seemed obnoxiously unaware of her dog's annoyance factor.
Bear plopped down on the dog bed set against the counter. I curled my lip. Was that even sanitary?
"Watch out!" a deep voice shouted.
Before I had a chance to react, there was a hot, burning sting on my cheek. I yelped and covered my face quickly as I bent down. Did someone just throw something at me? Damn. That hurt.
"Are you okay?" the voice asked. I looked up.
Oh.
"Did it get you?" The gorgeous blond guy in front of me looked concerned. He bit at his lower lip while staring at the side of my face. I swallowed hard.
"Yeah. What was it?" I touched at the spot where I still felt the burn.
"It was a coffee bean. Our machine is a bit…uh, dangerous. It shoots them across the room once in a while. We try to warn customers ahead of time by marking the floor."
What? I looked down and sure enough, I was standing in the middle of a bull's-eye drawn on the concrete in red marker. "Of course," I said, glancing up at him. "It's a very clear 'Don't stand here or you will be assaulted by a coffee bean,' warning. How did I miss that?"
He laughed. I wanted to smile except he was really cute and I wasn't sure if there was a bean-shaped burn on my face. Instead, I just stared back. His nametag read manager. Interesting.
"Sasha Torrance, right?" He outstretched his hand.
"Yeah." I took it, feeling immediate tingles race up my arm. I needed to seriously calm down.
"I thought it was you when I saw your application. How've you been?"
Huh? Did he know me? I was pretty sure I'd remember if I met him before. I didn't tend to forget tall, super-hot guys. Plus, I hadn't been back in Oregon in almost eight years, so he couldn't recognize me. Or shouldn't. God, I hoped I'd changed since I was ten.
I shifted in my sandals as he ran his gaze down the length of my sundress. He didn't seem concerned when I noticed him checking me out. At least I wore the dress that made my boobs look big.
"Do we know each other?" I finally asked.
His smile faded. Oops. I guess we did.
"I'm Taten. Taten Murphy?"
"It sounds familiar." No, actually it didn't. But I really wanted it to.
"From Sacred Heart?" He scrunched his nose as he scratched at his floppy curls. I might have been hurting his ego.
"We went to school together?" I asked. I'd gone to Sacred Heart elementary school for one year in the fourth grade, before I moved to Arizona. This guy was not in my class.
"Yeah." He shook his head, looking embarrassed. "I was two grades ahead and…" He must have noticed my vacant expression. "Wow. You have no idea who I am, do you?"
"I really don't."
"Damn."
Not that I minded meeting him again.
"Taten?" a shrill voice screamed from across the room. "Stop flirting and come here."
We both turned toward the crazy looking old lady with a mass of gray frizz. Her lips were blood red and her outfit was reminiscent of Cruella Deville.
Taten exhaled and met my eyes. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
I watched him walk away, suddenly wondering why I was still here. I wanted a job, not a ticket to the Ringling Brother's Circus. Within the last five minutes I had been molested by a dog, burned by a rogue coffee bean and screamed at by a Disney villainess. Man. I just wanted a reason to get out of my father's house.
"Are you going to jet?"
I jumped. There was a particularly hairy guy standing next to me. He had on a heavily stained Coffee Break shirt. The stains didn't even look like coffee.
"Excuse me?"
He rolled his dark eyes. "Jet? Leave?"
"Uh, I was thinking about it."
"Well, no shit. I could see the panic on your face."
"I wouldn't say panic—"
"Would you say freaked out? 'Cause you're weirdly pale and freaked out looking."
I stared at him, pretty sure toothpaste was smudged in the corner of his mouth.
What planet was I on? I was so confused. "Look, I've got to go." I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and looked toward Taten. He was watching me with what appeared to be an amused expression as Cruella talked animatedly at him. Oregon was freakier than I remembered.
"I'm sorry," the hairy one said. "Was it my pale comment?"
I glanced back at him and shook my head. "No. I just—"
"Don't be offended," he said. "My brother is a fucking albino and it doesn't piss him off."
Okay, seriously. Should I run?
"Sit down," he said. "I'll make you a coffee on the house." He raised his hand in a gesture of offering. I looked toward the door for an escape.
"Come on," he said with a laugh. "It's lame to go running out of here during a job interview."
He had a point. I nodded and slid onto the stool of a nearby bistro table. It felt good to sit down. I'd been walking all day window-shopping. What else could I do when I was so clearly broke?
In fact, this was the only place to even call me back for an interview. I should at least hear them out. As long as they paid me and let me drink the coffee, it could work out, right? Okay, so maybe the incredibly sexy manager had something to do with my rationalizing, but whatever. I still needed a job.
"I'm River by the way," the hairy guy said as he walked away. He didn't even wait for me to introduce myself.
I glanced around the coffee shop, surprised there were so many customers. The strangest looking group of people I'd ever seen gathered in one place. Some with dreads, some in suits. There was even a lady with a stroller. Only it didn't have a baby in it. It had a bunch of wind chimes made from beer caps.
"The coffee's really strong," River said, coming back to the table. He set a mug in front of me, splashing a little over its side. The cup read "Keep Portland Weird." I was pretty sure that went without saying.
"Thanks," I said. But there was no way in hell I was going to drink it. It stained the side of my mug. What would it do to my stomach? He stared at me.
"You don't want it, do you?"
"Uh…" How should I answer that?
"I've got it from here, River," Taten said, appearing over his shoulder.
When River turned to look at him, Taten smiled a wide, completely adorable grin.
"Your pretty-boy smile doesn't work on me, Tate," River replied, moving toward the counter. "And hurry up with this interview so we can finish our game out back."
Taten slid his hands into the pockets of his black pants and nodded, waiting until River was gone before sitting down across from me. His knee knocked into mine as he shifted into place. I was glad the circular table was small because I could smell him. The light scent of his cologne was really nice.
"What game are you waiting to finish?" I asked.
He laughed. "Pencil fighting."
"What?"
Taten covered his smile with his palm as he stared back at me. He looked slightly embarrassed. "It's stupid," he said, shaking his head and dropping his arm.
"So you fight. With pencils?"
"Yeah. We hold the pencil between our hands and the other person hits it and tries to break it. It's like in Karate, but instead of breaking a board with your hand, you break a pencil with another pencil."
Only he pronounced karate, ka-rah-tay. With a serious face, no less.
"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your game," I said.
"Ah, don't worry about it." He leaned close to whisper. "River is totally kicking my ass anyway."
I smiled. Something about him was so approachable, not at all intimidating. I liked him. He was nothing like my last boyfriend. God. Aaron was a tool. A well dressed, well-mannered prick. Looks could certainly be deceiving. Even now, this cute, sweet looking guy could be a closet asshole. You never really knew until a crisis hit. Or an unexpected summer trip to Portland. I shifted in my seat.
"I guess you can tell it's pretty casual around here," Taten began. "Does that bother you?"
"Not really. It's just…different."
"You've never gotten coffee here before?"
"I haven't lived in Oregon for years--"
"That's right. You moved to Arizona. I sort of remember that."
He had a good memory. "Yep. Phoenix."
"Arizona's nice."
Despite the superficial conversation, I was beginning to feel self-conscious. He was just…staring at me. "You like Arizona? What parts have you been to?" I asked, hoping we'd have something in common besides a year of elementary school I couldn't remember.
"I've never been there," he said. He furrowed his brow as if I was the one that didn't make sense.
"Oh."
He chewed on his lip as he looked down at the lacquered table. His knee was touching mine but I couldn't just flinch away. And why would I want to?.
"What made you come back to Oregon?" he asked.
I didn't really want to answer that. "My dad lives here."
"You don't see him a lot?"
Wow. Personal questions alert.
"Not really. Taten, I--"
"Do you have a boyfriend back in Arizona?"
My heart began to beat a little faster. "No." Not anymore.
Taten straightened up, staring at me again. It wasn't that I didn't want him to look. It was just strange. And I wasn't used to strange.
"So why did you apply here, Sasha?" he asked, mostly curious, but maybe a little confused. "Your father is Paul Torrance, isn't he?"
Ugh. "Yeah."
"Couldn't he get you a job down at the college?"
I would have thought it odd that he knew about my father, but when your dad was the dean of the University of Portland, his name held a little weight. Not that I would ever use it to get a job. That was tacky.
"I didn't ask him," I said.
Taten leaned on the table, bringing himself closer to me. It all seemed really unprofessional, but I didn't care. I wanted him to get even closer. My stomach was in knots.
"Besides," I said, a hitch in my voice. "I thought being a coffee barista sounded cool."
"It is," he deadpanned. "Very cool."
I laughed. "I applied online and then you called."
"I did call, didn't I?" His knee retracted slightly from mine. "You'd think based on that fact alone I'd have something better prepared for this interview."
"The thought crossed my mind."
He grinned. "Well, do you have any experience?"
"Not really." Not at all. I'd never had a job.
"To be honest, I didn't look that closely at your application. Where did you work before?"
This was brutal. Did I really need experience? I would be making coffee for minimum wage. How hard could it be?
He must have noticed my pause. "It's just…we don't get many applications. You were the only one that applied and our barista quit three months ago. We're hard up for anybody. Plus I recognized your name."
I was glad he did. Still. Why was mine the only application? What sort of freaky stuff went on around here? "Why did your barista quit?"
He seemed to pale slightly.
"Taten!" Cruella screeched from across the room again. He shut his eyes before turning and raising his hand at her.
"Who's the crazy woman?" I asked. She was getting on my nerves.
He smiled broadly. "That's my mom. She owns the place."
My stomach dropped. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I'm sure she's not crazy. I…"
He waved me off. "Please, don't apologize. She's totally fucking nuts."
My mouth opened in surprise, but I tried to recover quickly. I wanted to have some appearance of calm, even though I felt completely thrown off in this place.
"Did I offend you?" he winced.
"I don't know…"
"I'm not really good with the whole interviewing thing," he said with a shrug. "Do you want the job? I didn't have any other applications."
Wait. I was being offered the job? Did I want it anymore? "Well--"
"Can you just try it out?" he asked, crinkling his nose. "I sort of need some normal folks around here. River is, well, you met him. Perry. And my mom." He widened his eyes. "A nice girl like you might class the place up a bit."
Somebody needed to pinch me because when he was looking at me with those beautiful greenish brown eyes, I--
"Sasha?" Taten asked.
Oops. What was he asking me? "Yeah?"
He chuckled. "Will you take the job or not?"
It would be a long, poor summer without The Coffee Break. And it wasn't like I had anything better to do. I sighed. "I'll take it."
But as soon as I said it, I felt the knots in my stomach tighten. I had a crush on my manager. Why did I know this was a bad idea? And why did I not care?
