Realizations

My phone dings as I pour the pasta into a strainer. I glance at the screen, catching a glimpse of the notification before it shuts off. My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth and my eyes roll. Probably my sister asking for yet another favor from me.

Grabbing a bowl for my dinner, I leave my phone alone, trying to find it in me to say no. Just a no. But, as always, just the thought of doing so has guilt growing inside me like a vine. I know that saying no is allowed. Honestly, at the rate she asks for things, and the rate at which she gets them… I’m allowed to say no, more than just this once.

I give my head a quick shake. What if she actually does want to just hang out?

With a final scoop of sauce on my noodles, I pick up my phone and get myself settled on the couch for the night. I set the phone on the table, using the remote to navigate to my latest binge watch. For every click of the remote, I glance at my phone. Not being able to keep my curiosity at bay, I open the message.

I was right. Janine sent me a message asking if I wanted to go run errands with her tomorrow. Which wouldn’t be a problem if it meant she was driving, or even if it was just an errand. She listed three errands, two of which are two towns over. The kicker is she doesn’t even have her license, let alone a car. I have no problem with helping out, which could be a problem. But, when the only time I hear from someone is for a favor, it no longer feels right.

Somehow I manage to convince myself not to respond now. For once, I feel a little too angry to answer. We never hang out because she wants to hang out. Either I ask to hang out - and it’s actually hanging out - or she wants me to help her out but phrases it so it sounds like we’ll be hanging out. I set my phone aside, turn on the TV and check out for the night.

I cue four shots, quickly pumping mocha into the cup. I manage to set it under the spout just in time for the caffeinated liquid to hit the cup. I put a lid on a vanilla latte as my other hand grabs another drink ticket. As I read the sticker, I give the cup to drive-thru.

For just a brief moment, I’m aware of just how much is going on around me. Over my headset, I can hear the next drive-thru order. There are three bars spouting out shots. A blender starts running, and the oven is beeping. A customer is ordering up front and there’s a group of people chatting as they wait for their drinks. Steam wands are hissing through milk. Someone walks behind me. My arms are coated in dried syrup.

The way the chaos still manages to flow and operate will always baffle me. It’s overwhelming and, luckily, some part of me finds the strength to just push that feeling away to move on. I’ve got a shift to finish, and I need to do so on a good note.

In an attempt to catch us up, I am trying to juggle three drinks at a time. Sometimes four. There’s too much going on to be aware of anything but the drinks. I can only focus on one or the other, and the drinks are top priority.

My next drink is an iced chai. Thank goodness. I whip it up just before the milk is done steaming for the mocha latte. Once the mocha is topped off with whipped cream, I put a lid on both drinks and pass them off.

Just as I go to grab another ticket, Ember taps me on the shoulder.

“I’m taking over. June says it’s time for you to go home.”

“Cool, thanks.” I respond, stepping out of the way to untie my apron. Once it’s off, I clock out and leave the building as quick as I can.

Once I get in my car and lock the doors, I take a deep breath. My legs ache from being on them for twelve hours and almost all of the joints in my body hurt. Grabbing my car key, I notice my hands are so dry that some of the cracks have started bleeding. It’s a night for Vaseline and gloves.

Thank god, I finally get a day off tomorrow.

My car rumbles as it starts, the entire vehicle shaking. One of these days, it will fall apart. Hopefully it can wait until I get my tax return.

The drive home is quick and uneventful. As soon as I enter my apartment, I toss my apron and keys onto the counter. I strip down to my underwear and head straight to the bathroom for a shower. The syrup coating my arms and face is enough to send me into a meltdown.

I crawl into the tub after turning the water on, pulling my knees to my chest as I let the water run down my body. Once I’ve fully relaxed, I quickly wash off and get out.

Wrapped in a towel, I sit on the floor spacing out. I rest my head on my knees, softly crying for no singular, apparent reason.

“Rosaline, please sit in your desk.” I say, walking over to Matt to ensure he’s following along with his letters.

“Why?” She stays standing for a second before taking her seat. A small chuckle leaves my mouth as I check on a few other students. Her constant questions are hilariously obnoxious.

“Now, we are going to bring up the letter ‘f’ and bring down the ‘c’.” Mr. Klatz says, mimicking his instructions on the SmartBoard for the class to see. I keep looping around the class to check that all the kids are following along. I give a quick glance at Sam, watching Kristin providing just a little too much assistance. Sam is so much more capable than people think, and I wish they would listen to me when I say he can do it. I take a deep breath and turn around, only to see Rosaline back out of her desk.

“Rosaline, where should you be right now?”

“In my desk...”

“Exactly.” She quickly sits down. “Thank you. Now, which on is the ‘f’?”