Chapter One #2
The door opened, and a young man with vibrant green hair and a lip ring walked in.
“Can I help you?” Apparition forced her expression to brighten.
“You must be the new girl Henry hired.” He strode around the counter. “I’m Ethan. I work here.” He poured himself an iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge then added a few pumps of sweetener. “Shift doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Going to go hide in the back.”
“Okay.” Apparition milled about for a few minutes before edging towards the door. Maybe she could find an excuse to go back to talk to either or both of them. Make up a question. Try to build a rapport. She eased towards the door only to hear voices.
“So, you think the new girl is going to work out?” Ethan asked.
Jasmine moaned. “I hope not. She gives me the creeps. Staring at me every moment of my shift, standing way too close. Plus she’s got a really morbid way of interacting with people.”
“Morbid and creepifying, got it.” Ethan snickered. “Yeah, well, with the turnover in this business, she’ll probably be gone in a month. Just ignore her until then.”
Apparition’s heart dropped into her stomach. Creepifying?
Her eyes smarted, and she dashed into the walk-in cooler to cry.
How had she already screwed up so badly?
Dad was right. People were awful. She didn’t want to be with people anyway.
Didn’t need people. If Jasmine knew what she could do, she wouldn’t dare say such things.
Apparition should go out there and blast her with horrifying visions, make her think the world was ending and demons were coming to eat her, feet first. She’d be crying on the floor begging for mercy—
No. She couldn’t do that. She had a mission. If she blew her cover now, Dad would never forgive her.
The bell over the door rang. Apparition drew several deep inhalations before going out.
“Can I—” Her breath left her.
Surge—well, Shawn Park, who was Surge even if he pretended not to be—leaned up against the counter, fiddling with the laminated card that announced the current seasonal specials. He looked up at her approach.
“Oh, hey, you’re new, aren’t you?”
“Does it show?” Man, did her appearance scream “clueless” no matter what the context?
“It’s just that I’ve been in here multiple times a week since I started attending the local school, and I’ve never seen you before.” He straightened. “I’m Shawn, but I think the staff calls me ‘double Americano guy.’ That’s my order, by the way, if it wasn’t too obvious.”
“I think even I could figure that out.” She picked up a cup and wrote it on the outside. Morbid and creepifying and clueless and dumb—
“Hey, you spelled my name right!” He grinned. “You’re going to go far in this business.”
Her heart skipped. Should she have pretended not to know how to spell it? Would this make it obvious that she knew who he was?
“Lucky guess,” she said, somehow able to keep the quaver out of her voice.
He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. “Change goes in the tip jar.”
“Thanks.” She was supposed to talk him up, find out more about him, get in his good graces, but she couldn’t, not now.
Not when she obviously didn’t know how to connect with another human being.
How could Dad expect her to do this? She didn’t have what it took to befriend someone for real let alone in order to betray them to their inevitable doom.
Another customer entered, and a moment later Jasmine emerged from the back. Her reappearance sent another wave of mortification through Apparition. She dropped her head and focused on making the Americano for her intended target.
I should’ve just gotten Dad to agree to let me put some poison in his drink on day one rather than go through this whole, “get close and take him down that way” idiocy. Though enough sables are immune to poison to make that a useless idea. Still stupid. Always stupid.
She blinked back tears, hoping no one noticed. After inhaling the steam from the coffee to strengthen her resolve, she put the lid on the cup and brought it back to Shawn.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks. Looking forward to seeing you next time I’m in.” He smiled.
She tried to return it, just so it didn’t look suspicious, but she couldn’t.
His face fell. He leaned across the counter, his dark eyes searching her. “Are you okay?”
She stiffened. It was him. Her mark ... and he could see that she’d been crying, that she was weak. Oh, Dad was going to be furious. Somehow she managed to nod.
He glanced over his shoulder as if to be sure the other patrons weren’t getting antsy then addressed her again. “When did you start working here?”
“First day,” she whispered.
“Ah, yeah. Sorry if it’s been rough. A new job is always a stressful experience.
” He tapped his fingers against the paper cup.
“Look, everyone has rough days. That’s life, but I promise, things are going to get better.
You’ll learn the ropes. You’ll make fewer mistakes.
Also, no matter how it might feel in the moment, messing up someone’s coffee order is never a big deal.
It’s not going to end the world. It’s not going to change someone’s life if their latte wasn’t as foamy as they liked.
It’s really not.” His voice softened. “What could change someone’s life is you here, giving them your best because for all you know, the customer behind me is having as rough a day as you are, maybe worse.
Maybe bad enough that he needs someone being kind to him across the counter at a coffee shop to make him realize that he can hang on a day longer. That someone could be you.”
Her knees weakened, but she hardened herself. “That’s silly. I’m not that special.”
“I suspect you might be.” He reached into his pocket and passed her a bill. “Extra tip, so no one says I don’t put my money where my mouth is.”
She hesitated. She was here to scope this guy out, find his weaknesses so Dad could take him down. Taking his money didn’t seem right—but if she didn’t take it would he be suspicious? She snatched the bill and shoved it into her apron pocket before she could overthink it.
His eyebrows arched slightly.
Great, now he thinks I’m a creep too.
“Anyway, I better get out of the way before your next customer goes into caffeine withdrawals.” He winked.
The simple action triggered something in her, and before she could regain control her stupid, squeaking giggle slipped out. Her face immediately reddened. “Sorry. I’ve got an awful laugh. Kids at school used to call me ‘mouse girl.’”
His brow furrowed. “That’s dumb. I think it’s a cute laugh.” He smiled again. “See you soon—” he glanced at her nametag— “Nikki.”
“You too,” she managed to stammer before he turned away.
Her insides started to bubble in a way that made her feel like she wasn’t quite there.
Her power sparked in her blood, wanting her to use it, a fight or flight instinct she usually only got when cornered by superheroes or when her father yelled at her.
This was ridiculous. Shawn had been less than threatening. He’d been ... nice. So nice.
I don’t think anyone has ever been that nice to me. Not since Mom died anyway.
She somehow managed to bluff her way through the next few customers, but the whole time, she couldn’t stop glancing at the door, wishing Shawn would come back. Wishing he would tell her she was special one more time.