Page 35 of Sorry, We're Closed

Gwen:Hun, our flat. Coffee is on, Xander is home, too.

Sawyer:I can't leave. Tomorrow morning? Before the café opens?

Gwen:Sure. Please breathe, you're okay <3

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Gwen's mouth hangs open ever so slightly for the entire time I speak. I came to work earlier than usual to have everything ready and two coffees on the go for when she arrived.

Mother’s banging of glass bottles and yet another man this morning also anticipated my early arrival.

I tell Gwen everything from the first time we properly spoke and Avory's hand landing on mine and then later on my knee; to the “guitar lesson”, to him walking me home and me kissing him, to him kissing me back. Then the text messages, bringing her to the present on what has now been declared as a really weird friendship.

“Sawyer, I'm surprised that you even managed to keep all of that locked away from me for so long. Is Avory a good kisser?” Gwen laughs into her coffee as I kick her under the table and give her the “can we please get back on topic?” glare.

“Hun, you like this guy, and he clearly likes you. You need to apologise and tell him everything.”

“Or I could just cut him off completely, wait until he leaves Tetherton and forget that this ever happened?” I glance out of the window as Gwen's foot meets my shin, with a bit more force than I expect.

“Hun, I love you and you know that, but you cannot coop yourself up in this café and in your bedroom for the rest of your life, all because of one woman's opinion on you. Let's be honest actually, it's not an opinion, it's denial because she doesn't want to admit that her perfect guy wasn't as perfect as she thought. You deserve your perfect guy though, and whether it's Avory or not, you can't throw him away like this.”

Gwen has put her coffee down and her arms are animated for the entire time she’s talking. I focus on my breathing because any minute now, tears will begin to stream.

Gwen exhales and stands up, coming to my side of the table and wrapping her arms around me, her cardigan, which is drowning in floral scents, covering my face. Her scents are always comforting, maybe because she’s the only woman in my life who I feel comfort in.

“Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so into your life, but you need this, and I think you need him. You need him a lot more than you think. He's not Rue or any other guy you may have glanced at. He's Avory Bright.”

I wrap my arms tightly around her waist as she begins to stroke the shaved back of my head. “You promise that you will talk to him?”

I nod into her side. Gwen kisses the top of my head as she gives me one more squeeze. She glances at the time and realises I should be opening now anyways, so she grabs the keys and unlocks the door, letting herself out with a kiss being blown my way.

The day seems to drag as I await Avory's arrival, but with an hour left until close, it seems unlikely. The café is silent today, which doesn't help as it leaves me alone with every thought I have about Avory, good and bad.

I need to distract myself, so I grab a pen from under the counter and begin scribbling anything I can think of. My mind spirals back to the napkin Avory gave me, which I still have tucked away in my pillowcase just in case she decides to ever rummage my room. It wouldn't be the first time when she's been searching for money, proof of something I never did, or alcohol which she thought I had stashed, when in reality she had finished it all already.

Speaking of the devil, the front door swings open, the wooden frame ricocheting off of the closest table and moving the chair tucked away with it.

Mother marches up to the counter and storms behind it, her eyes darting to me once, the mascara she has on lining the bags under her eyes.

“Hello?” I call out as I lean on the back bench.

She pops open the register and starts to pull out notes, counting them and flicking through them over and over. Her fingernails aren't painted anymore since they have chipped so much, showing off their sickly, yellow tone as they extend out from her spindly fingers.

Her mouth mutters numbers over and over, her whispered voice becoming increasingly frantic as she continues to count. I’m so focused on her that I completely miss the ringing of the front door.

“Hey. My usual, please.”

My heart races. No, it pounds against my rib cage as Avory stands on the other side of the counter, yet she stands exactly where I should be. Her eyes glance uncaringly at Avory, and she continues to count. That familiar anxiety bubbles into my throat, the same anxiety that just being close to Avory would calm down.

“Who are you? Don't recognise you?” she mumbles as I begin to make Avory's drinks.

I need to keep him, but I can't talk to him while she’s here. I catch his reflection in one of the coffee machines, he adjusts his posture at Mother’s first words to him and puts his hands in his pockets as he speaks.

“Um… Avory? And I'd ask the same thing to you.”

Mother scoffs in response as she slams the register shut, making me jump and nearly spill the frothing milk I have in hand. I turn to face her, a wad of notes in her hand but her eyes lock onto Avory. He catches my gaze for a second, and she clearly notices.

She steps in between us and continues, “You're funny. I'm the owner of this café.”

---