19. Ava
Ava
Fifteen more minutes.
That’s all that stood between me and summer break.
Fifteen minutes and I no longer had to pretend that the bookstore was where I chose to do my community hours to build my résumé and not where I was assigned to work off my work-study stipend. Not to mention, this apron did absolutely nothing for my figure.
The handheld mirror beside the register reflected perfection staring back at me. My hair and makeup were always flawless, and my cheekbones alone were a reason for envy. Even at my worst, these bitches couldn’t fuck with me.
So why was I unhappy?
My parents' financial crisis wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. Faith filed for divorce at least once every three years because my father somehow found a way to squander a substantial amount of the family finances, even though this one might be the worst yet.
And it wasn’t like I was lacking in other areas. Men? Please. There was never a shortage.
Faith always said men were only good for two things, and neither one was love. Use them before they use you. Love will kill you before anything else. Time and pussy cost. Make them pay for it upfront.
Just a few of the things she’d been telling me since I was twelve years old.
Friends? Yeah, right. Females be cool with you one minute and jealous of you the next.
My mother always had my back when it came to my so-called friends. She was the first to point out who was trying to outdress me, outshine me, or take my spot in a room. Every time she'd point one out, I'd slowly distance myself until eventually they were gone.
Looking back on it now, every friend I'd ever had somehow ended up becoming competition.
Or at least that's what Faith taught me.
The strange part was that lately I couldn't stop noticing things.
Little things that made me want friendship.
The way girls laughed together while walking across campus. The way they piled into cars after class and made plans to go to the mall. Everybody always seemed to have someone. A friend. A partner. A person who actually knew them beyond surface-level bullshit.
My reflection stared back at me again. Here I was, pretty, popular, desired, and… alone.
Immediately, I rolled my eyes at myself.
What kind of Hallmark Channel bullshit was that?
Faith would be disgusted. I could practically hear her voice now, reminding me that pretty girls don’t chase friendships, pretty girls don’t need validation, and pretty girls get chosen.
The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. Everyone else was the problem, not me. Loneliness was just the price of being better than everybody else.
That explanation sounded good enough, so I accepted it, reapplied my lip gloss, and checked my reflection one more time.
The entry bell chimed and I scuffed.
Who the hell comes into a bookstore fifteen minutes before closing?
Looking up, my stomach dropped and my heart began racing. These three hadn't made a single appearance in this bookstore all semester, and somehow, on the very last day, Juliet, Yahya, and Mega decided to walk through those doors together. Worse, they were seeing me behind the register.
There was no explaining this away. Volunteers only dealt with stocking shelves, organizing displays, and helping professors locate course materials. Their responsibilities were carefully disguised from those of paid staff.
The ring of store keys sitting beside my cell phone on the counter sealed my fate.
Yeah, there was no spinning that. That kind of responsibility wasn't handed out to volunteers looking for community hours.
It belonged to people on payroll. People trusted to close the store, lock the doors, count the registers, and make sure nothing caught on fire after everyone left.
One look at those keys and anybody with common sense would know I worked there.
Panic instantly took over.
Oddly enough, Juliet and Mega probably wouldn't have cared.
They were annoyingly mature when it came to social interactions.
Please, thank you, you look nice today, this seat is empty, come join us.
You know, polite shit like that. People who could find out your life was falling apart and somehow make you feel better about it instead of worse.
Yahya?
Completely different story.
That gossip-loving menace returned energy like it was a full-time job.
One sarcastic comment from me would turn into twenty from her.
By morning, pictures of me in this apron would probably be anonymously posted all over campus with a caption talking about “humble beginnings” or “everybody starts somewhere.”
Calm down, Ava.
You got this.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and prepared myself for impact as the three of them approached the counter.
Mega stared.
Yahya stared.
Juliet didn’t even look up from her phone.
Bitch.
“We’d like to donate these books for next semester’s giveaway,” Yahya said.
“Well, there are two problems. One, you don’t go here. And two, you missed the deadline for selling used books. That was last week,” I snarled.
“Oh shit, look at you being a good employee. Knowing who's a student and who’s not, all the deadlines and shit. You go, girl,” Yahya responded in a phony-friendly voice.
She even reached across the counter and lightly tapped my hand as if she was genuinely proud of me.
Here we go.
“Look, they go here,” she said, pointing at Juliet and Mega. “And I am their better half, so it’s always a we thing. Oh, and notice I used the word donate and not sell with your miserable ass. Those are two completely different things.”
“Aww, yes, donate,” I replied. “Did you learn that word yourself, or did Mega read it to you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yahya start to raise her hand.
Thank God, Mega caught it immediately.
Her crazy ass would have beat mine.
“Look, Ava,” Juliet said calmly. “We just want to donate the books and get the receipt to verify our community service hours. We don’t want any problems.”
Now she wanted to speak?
This girl walks in, doesn’t say hello, doesn’t even look my way, and the first thing out of her mouth is a demand?
Oh, she got me fucked up.
Everyone else may worship the ground their perfect Juliet walks on, but the bitch is a fraud.
“And hurry up, hoe,” Yahya added. “All this friendly conversation ain’t needed. Pretty sure you worked off that stipend money by now.”
A slight chuckle escaped Juliet, which somehow pissed me off even more.
I grabbed one of the books from her pile and dropped it back down hard.
“You can’t donate Braille books here.”
Juliet blinked.
“You been sniffing those seasonings in your cooking classes?” she asked. “Braille is for blind people. I’m hearing impaired, and these—”
She shoved the stack of books toward me with so much force that they slid across the counter and spilled onto the floor behind the register. Not wanting to chip my pedicure, I jumped back out of the way.
“—are standard prints,” she finished with a smile.
Then she crossed her arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
Barbaric.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up the books little miss rude-ass had knocked onto the floor and started scanning them. Juliet's stack cleared without issue, so I moved on to Mega's.
Mega's skin was smooth milk chocolate with a fire-red undertone. He always smelled good whenever I got close enough to catch a whiff, and he carried himself like somebody who'd step in front of a bullet for the people he loved. If he ever got rid of his two shadows, I'd gladly give him a taste.
When Mega's pile cleared, I moved on to Yahya's.
"What you got for us today? Remedial reading? A little Red Fish, Blue Fish? Some Goodnight Moon?"
Yahya lunged at me almost immediately.
Once again, Mega caught her before she could reach me.
This time, though, she wasn’t trying to be held back. She twisted, kicked, and reached for me while launching a fresh round of insults in my direction. Her mouth was almost as lethal as her hands.
I was enjoying the show, watching her buck around like a spooked horse trapped in a stable, when I heard the sound of paper tearing.
I turned toward Juliet and saw her ripping up the donation receipt.
My eyebrows shot up.
"I'm not printing another one," I said, annoyed. And I meant it.
"No problem." She smiled. "As a matter of fact, none of these books need to be registered."
"Ju, hold up. I need my service credits," Mega interrupted, still trying to calm Yahya's wild ass down.
Juliet pushed the entire collection of books toward me.
"Consider them a gift."
"A gift?" I frowned.
"Mm-hmm." She folded her arms. "Think of it as a head start for the fall semester. One less expense you and your mama gotta lay on your backs for."
"Ha! Yeah, tell that bitch, Ju-Ju!" Yahya applauded.
Mega looked at me, his fist pressed against his lips. The wince on his face said he felt that hit just as hard as I did.
Heat flooded my face, and a storm of emotions tore through me. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Rage.
How dare she?
How dare these three walk in here and look down on me?
Faith, I tried. I really did.
But Juliet had crossed the line.
"Well," I said, forcing a smile through the tears threatening to spill, "at least my mama is alive and well. I can't imagine walking around as the product of a teacher-student scandal."
Juliet frowned.
Then she looked at Yahya.
"Is it coke?" she asked.
"I think so, friend," Yahya replied.
Mega didn't say a word.
But the look on his face told me everything.
He knew I'd just opened Pandora's box.
"My mother and father were both established in their careers when I was born," Juliet said, her voice tight. "My father, unlike your loser-ass father, is a basketball legend. Although being an educator is a respectable career, you got your facts twisted."
"No," I corrected. "Mr. Everette is a basketball legend."
Silence settled between us.
"Your real father is a pervert who killed your fast-ass birth mother."
Every ounce of color drained from Juliet's face.
"Ava, stop making shit up," Yahya snapped.
"Oh, y'all know I'm a lot of things."
"Yeah," Yahya cut in. "Shallow. Slutty. Annoying."
"Be that as it may, nobody has ever called me a liar. I'll tell a joke before I tell a lie, and we all know I rarely find shit funny."
"Stay in your place, Ava," Mega warned.
Juliet turned toward him.
For the first time since they'd walked into the bookstore, she looked uncertain of herself.
"Wait..." Her voice trembled. "Mega, is what she's saying true?"
"Ju-Money..." he pleaded.
"Mega!" Yahya shouted, staring at him in disbelief.
Juliet wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. Her breathing turned uneven, shallow, and panicked.
"Oh, don't go all mute now, Princess," I taunted.
Her eyes snapped to mine, searching, praying I was lying. Before I could twist the knife any deeper, Juliet turned and bolted for the exit, the bell above the door screaming as she shoved it open.
"When you get home," I yelled after her, "ask Echo about ole slutty Shannon. I heard he knew her really well."
Juliet never looked back.
Mega stared at me like I’d set the entire city on fire, and for the first time since this encounter started, I felt something other than inadequacy.
Because deep down, I knew I took it too far. There was no coming back from what I’d just done.