Authors: Anna Todd
It's helping keep my mind off of Nora showing up at my apartment, and the fact that I'm an idiot for not bringing my phone to text Tessa to make sure everything's all right. I could have found power for it somewhere.
Every table is still full and there are at least twenty people standing up, coffee in hand. I notice that they're all wearing lanyards and assume that it's the usual electronics conference that happens every couple months nearby. It's a much bigger crowd than we usually get at one time, but it's good for business. That's another cool thing about New York City; there's always something going on.
I start to refill the canisters of beans and wipe down the grinders while Aiden tackles the condiment station, refilling the creamers and restocking the seven different types of sugar we offer. Before I moved to the city, I'd never seen a lump of sugar pressed into the shape of a cube, like on Bugs Bunny. I honestly thought that was just cartoon shorthand.
Back in Saginaw, every once in a while, I would hear a customer ordering a nonfat something or other, but that was about as complicated as it got in small-town Michigan. Dakota and I would sit in the local coffeehouse for hours. We would switch tables when we got tired of the view. We'd get a sugar high and walk home, holding hands and dreaming under the stars.
My mind moves down that familiar memory lane and I remember when Dakota and I got into a fight in Starbucks. I remember that her hair smelled like coconut and her new lip gloss was sticky. I chased her down the street and she sprinted, reminding me that she could run faster than anyone I knew. The track coach at our high school knew it, tooânot that Dakota was interested in sports. She would humor me and watch the meets with me and ask a million questions every time a whistle blew.
She wanted to dance. She always knew it. I envied her that certainty. Dakota ran and ran farther away from the Starbucks, and I chased her, as I always did.
She turned a corner down an alleyway, and I lost her. I felt like I couldn't breathe until I found her. It was too dark for her to be running through that part of town. I found her a few minutes later, right outside the Patch. She was sitting on the ground next to a half-torn-down fence, the black of the woods behind her.
The chain-link fence had huge holes in it and it was dark outside, and after a minute I could finally breathe again. Dakota was picking at the gray rocks and tossing them into a pothole in the street. I remember how relieved I felt when I saw her. She was wearing a yellow shirt with a smiley face on it and glittery sandals. She was mad at me because I thought it was a bad idea to try to track down her mom.
Yolanda Hunter had been gone for too many years. I felt that if she wanted to be found, she wouldn't be hiding.
Dakota was angry, telling me that I didn't understand what it was like to have no parents. Her mom ran away, leaving her children with a drunk father who liked to smack his son around.
When I caught up to Dakota, she was crying, and it took her a few seconds to look at me. It's so strange the way my mind remembers the exact details of that night. I had started to get worried about her. Sometimes, I would think she was going to disappear, like her mom.
“There's no proof that she wouldn't let me live with her,”
she told me that night.
“And there's no proof that she would. I just want you to consider how you'll feel if she doesn't say what you want her to, or if she doesn't say anything at all,”
I said to her as I sat down next to her on the crunchy gravel.
“
I'll be fine. It couldn't possibly be worse than not knowing
,” she said.
I remember grabbing her hand and that she laid her head on my shoulder. We sat in silence, both of our heads tilted up toward the sky. The stars were so bright that night.
Sometimes, like that night, we wondered why the stars even bothered to shine over our town.
“I think it's to torture us. To mock those of us who are stuck in bad places and living crappy lives,”
Dakota would say.
I'd say something like
“No, I think they're here to give us hope. Hope that there's more out there. Stars aren't evil like humans.”
She would look at me and squeeze my hand, and I would promise her that someday, somehow, we would get the hell out of Saginaw.
She seemed to trust me.
“Sorry it took so long!” I recognize Posey's voice through the cloud of memories in my head. She's talking to Aiden. A woman in a black dress holds up a sign and tells everyone it's time to go. As the crowd spills out of the shop, I listen to the exchange between Posey and Aiden.
He lifts his shirt up to wipe his sweaty face as she talks to him. “It's all right. Landon finally showed up.”
Posey's head turns and she finds me, wiping a rag across the metal counter.
Not eavesdropping at all.
“I'm so sorry!” Posey says, walking toward me. Her hands are behind her back and she's tying her apron. Her red hair is up today, pulled back into a bun.
“I could have sworn we switched shifts today, I must have forgotten to ask you,” she explains.
I shake the rag over the trash can before soaking it in the soap bucket. “No. We did switch. I was just out of it last night and let my phone die. Sorry you had to come all the way down here.”
She looks toward Aiden and I follow her eyes. He's not looking at either of us; he's talking to a customer about decaf coffee being despicable and pointless.
“It's like alcohol-free beer. Waste of time,” the middle-aged man Aiden's talking to says in a raspy voice. He looks like he's had a few beers today himself.
“I kind of need the hours, anyway,” Posey whispers to me, and nods toward the table against the back wall, closest to the short hall that leads to the restroom. Her little sister, Lila, is sitting there patiently, with her chin on the table. “I brought backup.”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out three little cars. Hot Wheels, maybe?
“She likes her cars.” I smile at the little girl, but she doesn't notice.
Posey nods. “Oh yes she does.”
“You're sure you want to stay? I can. I don't have anything to do,” I offer.
The terribly selfish part of me wants her to stay so I can go see how Nora's doing, but I would never admit this out loud.
“Nope. I'm good, honestly. I only needed the two hours this morning for my grandma's doctor appointment. She's not doing very well.” Posey looks to her sister and I can spot a hint of fear.
As a college student working at a coffee shop, it would be nearly impossible for Posey to raise her little sister on her wages alone. I don't know too many of the details of her family life, but I assume that her parents aren't going to magically return.
“I can take Lila with me for a few hours. I'm just going back to my apartment. She can come there, or we can go to the park across the street.”
I wouldn't mind watching her for a little while so Posey can work the last two hours of her shift.
And this means that I can go back to my apartment.
I'm a terrible person.
Posey's eyes return to her sister every few seconds. She looks after her so well, even when she's working behind the counter. The little girl is still sitting with her chin resting adorably on the table.
“Are you sure? You don't have to.”
“I know,” I respond. “But I'd like to help.”
Man, I'm going to hell for pushing this.
Posey looks at her sister again and seems to consider the little girl's boredom. “Okay. But take her to your apartment. It's hot today and we were already out all morning.” She laughs. “It's too early for her to be worn out.”
“Got it. I'll clean up these tables before I go.”
“Thanks, Landon.” Posey smiles at me. Her freckles are extra noticeable today. It's cute.
“No prob, Bob.”
I grab the dish bucket and she lifts the divider in the cash wrap and waves me by.
The tables are dirtier than I've ever seen them. I have to change towels three times to wipe up the spills and rings of coffee.
At least the crowd is gone. Only one customer is left, a young hipster typing away on his little gold MacBook. He seems content.
When I'm ready to go, Lila is still in the same seat. Her chin is no longer resting on the table. Instead, she's zooming a little purple car along its surface, making sound effects and all.
“Hey, Lila. Remember me?” I ask her.
Her little round face looks up at me and she nods.
“Cool. Do you want to hang out with me while your sister works? We can go to my house for a little bit? I have a friend who would love to meet you.” I bend down to her level and she looks back at her car.
“Yes.” Her voice is soft but clear.
Posey says my name and I tell Lila that I'll be right back to get her.
When I stand in front of Posey, she has a serious expression on her face.
“You know how to be around kids, right? She's so young and I trust you, otherwise there's no way I would ever leave her alone with you, but do you know how to handle kids? What to do if she's hungry? Or if she falls and scrapes her knee?” Posey's voice is low and she sounds like a mom. “You have to hold her hand when you walk outside. At all times. And she only eats fries and peanut butter crackers.”
I nod. “Fries and peanut-butter crackers at all times. Hold hand. Don't let her fall down. She's too young to write my essays for me. Got it.” I grin at her and she sighs, smiling at me.
“You're sure?” she asks again.
“Positive.”
“Call me if you need anything,” she says.
I nod and promise her over and over that everything will be fine. I don't tell her that my phone is at my apartment, but I'm going straight there, and telling her that I won't be reachable until I'm home will only make her more panicky, if that's possible.
Posey explains to Lila that she's going to work for a little bit, then come to my house and pick her up. Lila doesn't seem to mind one bit.
When I say goodbye to Aiden, I notice a deep purple mark on the side of his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. My stomach turns a little, and I try not to picture the type of women he brings home.
During the walk to my apartment, Lila holds my hand and points to and names every bus, van, and ambulance as they pass. Any car with lights on it qualifies as an ambulance in her book.
The walk is quick and she's chatty, though it's hard to make out some of her words. As I look around, it seems like there are a ton of women out and about today. Either that, or women really do pay more attention to men with kids. I've gotten more smiles and more hi's in the last twenty minutes than I have since I moved here. Weird. It's like in that movie with the dog, where Owen Wilson's friend uses his puppy to get attention from women.
Probably best I don't compare kids to puppies, though.
When we reach my building, I let Lila press the button on the elevator and I count the seconds as it climbs to my floor. I really hope Nora is still here.
The TV is on when we walk through the door. Tessa is still on the couch, her hair pulled on top of her head. She still looks tired when sits up to greet our guest. She's sitting alone, I notice immediately.
“Well, hi,” she says with a smile for Lila.
Lila waves and pulls her blue car from the pocket of her tiny jeans.
“This is Posey's little sister. I'm keeping an eye on her for the next hour and a half or so.”
This seems to wake her up a little. She beams and waves at Lila. “What's your name?”
Lila doesn't answer. She just sits down on the floor and starts rolling her car around our printed rug, making little noises as she drives the car along the lines.
“She's adorable,” Tessa observes.
I nod in agreement. “I'm going to put my phone on the charger and run to the bathroom. Can you watch her for a minute?”
I try not to make it obvious when I scan the room for Nora for the second time.
“Of course,” Tessa says, and I go into my room and plug in my phone.
My bed isn't made and my laptop is open on the floor next to it. Good thing I didn't step on it when I was rushing around this morning. I wait a minute or two for my phone to turn on so I can text Posey and tell her that we made it just fine. No falls. No problems whatsoever.
But when my phone turns on, I see I have a text from Nora:
Please don't tell Tessa anything. She doesn't need the drama right now :/
I reply, asking her where she went.
A few seconds pass and I don't get a response, so I text Posey and leave my phone to charge for a little bit. I glance out into the living room and then go into the bathroom and close the door behind me. While I'm washing my hands, the door opens and Nora appears in the mirror.
I
STARE INTO THE MIRROR
for a few seconds, and Nora stares back at me.
She doesn't move closer. She just stands in the doorway with her eyes on mine. Without looking away from her, I turn off the water and grab a towel to dry my hands. She must have been in Tessa's room when I arrived.
“Hi,” Nora's reflection says.
“Hi,” I repeat.
We seem to be saying this a lot today.
“What happened?” I ask. I had planned on waiting for her to volunteer the information, but I couldn't stop myself from blurting out the question.
She takes a deep breath and I watch her chest rise and fall. I turn around and she takes a few steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
When she approaches me, she seems subdued, not the same woman who was in my kitchen last night. Her hands are held in front of her, not clenching my sweatshirt. Her lips are pursed, not kissing me.
Nora's hair is tied into a braid and resting over one shoulder. She's not wearing any makeup and I notice a few freckles on her cheeks. Her eyes look tired, giving away that she hasn't slept much. She's wearing a white T-shirt, another one that hangs off of one shoulder, and black leggings. Her feet are covered in pizza-print socks. This is the second time I've seen her wear odd socks. I like them.