a/n: Thanks so much for reading! I was surprised how many people read the story, but as long as there's interest I'll continue. I'm kind of going at it chapter by chapter at this point, although I do have a general idea of where the story is going to end up.

Oh, I just started a tumblr: chickpeahearts11 .tumblr .com (without the spaces, of course)

I also recommend listening to the song in this chapter: .com/watch?v=oZdiXvDU4P0 (add youtube in front of the link)

Again, I'd love any comments/critiques you might have. Enjoy! ;)

Chapter 2: What I'm Hoping For

I stand against the café counter and watch the skinny red stick on the clock as it slowly tick off the seconds. Rachel had left several hours ago and was replaced by Holly, but since we had only a couple customers Holly just went back to her office to do important work but said to come and get her if I needed anything.

Rachel did leave me a list of tasks to do to be prepared for customers in the morning, and they kept me busy for a couple hours. I was able to finish most of the things on her list - replenished the sugar stash, wiped down the tables and chairs, swept the floor, and took the creamer containers to the back. The rest of the things I tried but wasn't sure if I was doing it right. Something about balancing the cash register… I looked at it from all angles, though, and as far as I can tell it's pretty evenly balanced on the counter. To be exact I'd have to get a level, but I don't think we have that tool here. She also wanted me to print a list of total sales from the day, so I just pushed random buttons on the register until a receipt came out, hoping it had the numbers she needed. At work I hardly ever work the register. Not only am I bad at adding up the totals and giving correct change, but the register has so many buttons and I can never remember which one goes with which drink. People in line start to get angry when I take too long. I'd much prefer to just make the, coffee drinks. There's so many different kinds of milks and syrups and it's so fun to mix them together. My favorite thing is getting to put a giant pile of whipping cream on the top. And sometimes I even get to drizzle caramel or chocolate over the whipping cream. It looks so scrumptious, like Christmas in a cup.

I don't like drinking coffee drinks that much myself unless I make it extra sweet, and I make sure to put a huge whipping cream tower on top. Rachel said I wasn't allowed to make my own coffee drinks anymore because I get too hyper from all the sugar, but I still do when she's not here.

I glance up at the clock again. I'm not really good at reading time on the old fashioned clocks with the moving sticks, but I know that I get off at nine today. Rachel taught me that when I close I get to go home when the long black stick points straight up and the short stick points at the nine. Right now the long stick is at the nine, and the small stick is halfway between the eight and nine, so it's not time to go home yet. I don't understand why everyone doesn't use the clocks that actually tell you what time it is…

I scan my eyes around the empty café. I can't wait for college to start again so there's people here all the time. My eyes move to the front windows. The last of the day's fading sunlight is spilling onto the street outside. No one is out walking in the streets right now; after all it is kind of late.

I spy the empty lot and adjacent building across the street. That's where Rachel said that the family of the girl who I embarrassed myself in front of is moving in their business. I wonder what her family does. Probably something fancy like selling pretty dresses or expensive jewelry, because she looked like a fancy person, so her parents were probably fancy too. Or maybe her dad sold really shiny cars. I guess I'll find out soon…

Oh, crap! This is the only decent place to get a coffee within a few miles, so the chances of seeing the girl again are pretty high. Stupid, Brittany, stupid! Rachel always says that first impressions are important in a business place. Maybe I should apologize, just tell her that I was surprised and am not usually that awkward. And maybe I'll offer her a free coffee on the house for the bad service she received. You know, win the customer over. I'll turn on my Brittany charm and show her that Holly's is a place with great customer service and a caring staff. Oh, Rachel is going to be so proud of me.

"Hey, sweet cheeks! Why are you smiling? And what are you still doing here?" I turn around to see my boss, Holly, walking towards to front door. She reaches it and flips the 'open' sign so it reads 'closed' while also locking the front door. I whip my eyes to the clock again and see that the little stick is a little bit past the nine and the big stick is at the two. Does that mean it's after nine?

"Is my shift over?" I ask hopefully. Maybe Holly doesn't have to know I can't read the clock.

"Yeah, girlie! It's 9:10. Get yourself home," she says. I start to stand up, "And great work today!" She gives me a wink and a thumbs up as she walks back to her office. I wonder if she knows that I've hardly worked at all today. Holly is super nice and chill like that though. I bet she knows that I would have worked really hard if people were actually here.

xXxXx

I pull up to the curb in front of my house and turn off my old beater car. It's not much to look at, but it gets me to and from work. I'm glad I at least don't have to walk everywhere. I glance over at Mrs. Gunderson's house and notice her trashcan is still at the curb. I make my way over and drag it back towards the side of her house. I usually take it to the curb because it's too heavy for her to lift, but if she forgets to take it back in she'll hit it with her car as she's backing out of her driveway. That's happened a few times, and each time I had to sneak into the garage to borrow a hammer from my stepdad's tool bench to pound out the dents and return it before he notices it missing. So it's easier if I can just remember to take the can back in. I still forget sometimes though…

As I make my way back to my own house and push the door in I'm immediately greeted by the cries of Lord Tubbington as he waddles his way over to greet me.

"I hear you, I hear you." I lean down and pick him up so he will stop meowing. "I bet you're hungry, huh?" I forgot to feed him this morning before I left for work, and my sister and stepdad don't ever feed him because they say he's too fat and needs to hunt for his food to get exercise. But Lord Tubbington only likes human food and the fancy wet kitty food.

I make my way into the kitchen and set Lord Tubbington down next to his food dish before I open a can and pour it in his dish.
"There you go." I reach down and scratch behind his ear as he starts eating. "Eat up, little guy."

"Brittany?" I hear my stepdad yell from the other room. I walk the couple steps from the kitchen to the living room and peak my head in to see him sitting in the recliner in front of the TV. I quickly scan the room and notice that Katie isn't here. I'm not surprised. She's really popular and smart, so she's always being invited to parties and sleepovers at friends' houses.

"Yeah, Brian?" Ever since I was little I've always called him by his name, never 'Dad.' After Katie was born and started talking it was kind of weird at first when she started calling him 'Dad,' but eventually I got used to hearing it.

"Where have you been?" he asks in an irritated tone. I notice the empty bottles on the table by the recliner. I know when he's been drinking he gets upset really easily over silly things, so I just try to keep my voice calm and respectful.

"I just got off work. I came straight home, I promise." I offer a small smile, hoping he'll catch on that I'm trying to be respectful.

"Well, get me another beer then go to your room," he spits out brusquely, "I had a rough day at work and I don't need you ruining the one peaceful moment I've had all day." He turns his attention back to the TV, but I just nod in response, not wanting to say something that could spark his anger. Apparently my respectful approach didn't work today. I make my way to the fridge then quickly hand over the beer and head to my room before he can say anything else. I close the door once I'm alone and move over to sit on my bed. I slip off my shoes and flop back down on the bed letting out an exhausted sigh as I close my eyes.

I feel bad for Brian. Even after all these years he's still really upset about Mom. I don't think he was really prepared to raise two girls on his own. I bet he misses her a lot. I mean, she was my best friend and my mom. But they were married and in love, and people in love have a hard time when they're not together. I think that the drinking helps him not miss her so much. I was only twelve when she died, so I learned to deal with my sadness by going to the park and sitting on our bench and talking to the ducks. They helped me feel better, less lonely. And even though I still miss her sometimes, I'm not as sad as I used to be. But Brian didn't have a bench like Mom and I have, so I guess the drinking is kind of like his ducks, it helps him feel less lonely.

I slowly open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. It's the kind of ceiling that's all bumpy and has textures in it. I like to look up at it and try to make out shapes like some people do with clouds. If I find a really cool shape I stand on my mattress or desk and try to outline it in pencil so I can find it again. So now when I look up at my ceiling I can see dozens of pencil outlines of different animals and shapes.

The silence in the room is interrupted by the obnoxious growl of my stomach. I haven't eaten since lunch, and even then I shared half of my sandwich with the ducks. I think about the probability of me sneaking to the kitchen without upsetting Brian with my noise. I slowly get up from my bed and make my way to the door. I turn my head and place my ear against the wood. I can only hear the faint humming of conversations from the TV. I place my hand on the doorknob while keeping my ear flush against the door. I slowly start to twist the handle. Suddenly I hear a loud cough erupt from the living room and quickly jerk my hand back from the handle. I don't want to risk upsetting Brian any more than I already have.

I remember I have half a piece of toast on a plate on my desk. I was running late to work and forgot to finish it this morning. I pick it up and take a bite. It's really hard and crunchy from being left out, but it's better than going to bed with no food at all. I'll try to remember to eat a big breakfast to make up for it.

I eat the remaining piece of toast and walk over to my bed to turn on my lamp. I cross my room once again to turn off my overhead light and slip off my shorts as I walk back towards my bed, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

I crawl up to my pillow and collapse down on it. It seems early to be going to bed, but I did have a long day at work. Thinking back I wish I would have grabbed Lord Tubbington while I was getting Brian's beer and brought him to my room. I don't like sleeping by myself. Lord Tubbington doesn't like me cuddling him too much, but if I just put my hand on him he'll let me keep it there and will stay on my bed. It's just nice to know that I have someone looking out for me and keeping the monsters away while I'm sleeping. Maybe after Brian falls asleep I can sneak out and get him.

xXxXx

I wake up abruptly and jerk into a sitting position. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I can feel a layer of sweat coating my body. Both fists are tightly gripping my sheets, making my knuckles white. I slowly pry my fingers open and bend them to try to return the feeling. I close my eyes, place a hand over my heart, and take a deep breath.

I never remember the details of my nightmares, only that they're frightening. I remember when I was little I would run to my mom's room and shake her awake with tears in my eyes. She would walk me back to my room, hold me in her arms and stroke my hair, then sing to me until I fell asleep. She always made me feel safe and I could sleep the rest of the night.

I roll onto my stomach and reach for my phone on my nightstand. It's a real clock so I can read it. 5:36. The probability of me actually falling asleep and staying asleep isn't very high, so I decide to just get up. I don't work until seven this morning, so I have some time. The sun won't rise for another hour or so, but I decide to switch my lamp off and open my window blinds. That way I won't have to keep and eye on the clock, because I'll know that I'll have to leave for work shortly after I see the sun rise.

I open the drawer in my nightstand and pull out my iPod. I unravel the headphones and pop the buds in my ears before choosing a song. As soon as the soft piano melody starts, I close my eyes and start to sway.

Slow down, you crazy child, you're so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you're so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?

I start adding my arms and slowly turn around my room, keeping my eyes closed.

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day.

I step up in the complexity of my moves, keeping in perfect rhythm with the song.

But you know that when the truth is told… That you can get what you want or you get old. You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

There's just something about dancing that I can't get enough of. It's the only time I ever feel like I'm truly expressing myself and doing something that I'm good at, even if no one is watching.

Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time, although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight. Tonight... Too bad but it's the life you lead you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need, though you can see when you're wrong, you know, you can't always see when you're right. You're right…

The music is so peaceful and calm. I don't know what the words means, but it feels like a hopeful song, so I like it, even though I don't know what I'm hoping for.

You've got your passion, you've got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

Even though it's a man singing the song I always pretend that my mom is singing it to me from heaven, and she's watching me dance with a big smile on her face. She always loved watching me dance.

Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

The next song that comes on has more of a beat. I pick up the pace and use the small space between the bed and my door as a dance floor. I've always loved dancing. I even used to take lessons, but as I got older they got too expensive to continue.

xXxXx

When it's finally time to get ready for work I have a gleaming layer of sweat covering my body. I take a rushed shower and quickly dress before towel-drying my hair and throwing it up in my work ponytail. As I head to the kitchen I notice Brian fast asleep and snoring in the recliner. He must have fallen asleep watching TV. I decide to skip looking for breakfast because I'm afraid I'll wake him up looking through the cupboards. Maybe Puck can sneak me a chocolate scone at work. As quietly as I can I slip out the front door and softly close it behind me.

xXxXx

I pull my car into a spot behind the café. As I'm getting out of my car I see Tina pull up beside me. She's really nice and sweet, but really shy. I enjoy working with her because even when I mess up she still smiles at me and tells me 'it's okay.'

"Hi, Tina." I smile at her and wait behind my car so we can walk in together.

"Good morning, Brittany," she replies. "You look cute today."

I look down at my outfit because I forgot what I put on this morning in the rush to get to work on time. I'm wearing a simple, white cotton skirt with a bright blue v-neck. "Oh, thank you," I smile at her and see she's wearing dark skinny jeans and a black shirt. "You look nice too." She smiles in return and we start walking towards the café.

After we set our personal belongings in our cubbies and get our aprons on we meet Rachel behind the counter.

"Good morning, ladies. How are we all doing today?" She looks between Tina and me. I start to reply but she cuts me off, "Excellent! Let's prepare for another successful day." She quickly turns and heads to the front door to switch the sign to 'open' and unlock the door. I guess that's our cue to get to work. I look over at Tina, and she just nods before heading off to the kitchen, where I'm assuming she'll do food prep. Rachel is already making her way back to the register, so I take my place behind the espresso machine and begin to prep it for shots.

xXxXx

I've been at work for three hours now, but it really doesn't seem that long. Shortly after we opened at seven we had our first customers show up, and since then there's been a steady flow. We're just starting to see a lull, when I notice Rachel rush past me. I think she mumbled something about peeing. I look to the front counter and notice that there's no new customers. I hope no one comes until Rachel gets back so I don't have to work the register. Just as I finish my thought I hear the bell of the front door. Of course, I think to myself as I roll my eyes. I quickly dry my hands on my apron and walk over to the front counter, forcing a smile on my face.

"Welcome to Holly's. How may I he-," I freeze when I finally catch sight of the brunette from yesterday standing in front of me. "Oh, hi. It's you." At least I get out a somewhat normal sentence. I think back to yesterday. That's right: show her Holly's excellent customer service, and give her a drink on the house to make up for the bad service I gave her. I plaster on a confident smile and take a deep breath. When I finally look at her face I see that she's wearing that same grin again.

"Uh," I continue, "I wanted to apologize for being so awkward yesterday. I'm not usually like that. You just surprised me is all and I didn't mean to be rude. Let me make you a coffee, anything you'd like, free of charge, for your good customer service. I mean, for your bad custo-, I mean, my bad customer service." At some point in the conversation I must have looked away from her, because I find myself staring at my shoes again. I decide to take a chance and peak up at her face again. Her face is a mixture of amusement and surprise. Maybe she didn't catch everything I said because I said so much in a short amount of time.

I decide to try again, "So…can I make you a drink?" I stare at her eagerly.

"So this is the girl who told you she's not Jewish?" I'm shocked to hear the other voice. Another girl with short blond hair and dazzling green eyes appears at the girl's side and is giggling to herself with an amused smirk. How did I not notice her before? She looks me up and down before turning back to her friend.

"Quinn…," the brunette huffs under her breath. She rolls her eyes at the blond before looking back at me. She looks a little embarrassed, but it's hard to tell if she's blushing because her skin is so tan. She's definitely not red like I get, but a rose pink tinge appears to be mixing with the natural color of her cheeks. For some reason, this makes me feel a little less nervous.

The brunette rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then suddenly she goes from looking uncomfortable to beaming with confidence. She leans on the counter with one arm and gives a quick glance to her friend, Quinn, before looking me straight in the eyes and saying, "I would absolutely love a caramel mocha, um…." She looks at me questionably, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open.

"Oh, um, Brittany! I'm Brittany." I spit out.

"Brittany," she repeats with a smile. "I would love it if you could make me a caramel mocha, Brittany."
"And I'd like a vanilla latte, please." Quinn requests. She turns to her friend before adding, "I'll go find us a table." Then Quinn walks away, leaving me alone with the brunette.

I promptly nod my head and grab the black marker to write their orders on two cups before I forget. As I'm writing on the second cup I hear Rachel's sharp voice spill through the air.

"Brittany!" I hear her rush over to me and feel her pull me back by my elbow causing me to draw a long line on the cup with the black marker. In a hushed tone she hisses, "Brittany, that's the same girl. Why don't you go in the back until she leaves? You don't want to make another bad impression. Then she'll never come back." I hunch my shoulders and cast my eyes to my shoes. I didn't even think of that. Rachel is usually pretty smart when it comes to running the café, so I guess I should just do as she says before I make things worse.

"Um, excuse me." I turn to the brunette across the counter and see that her smile has disappeared and she's glaring at Rachel with her eyebrows raised and finger pointing in the air. "I was very specific in that I want Brittany to make my drink, not you, Man-hands."

Wait… Did she just stand up for me? To Rachel? I glance at Rachel and notice her stunned face, eyes wide open and jaw hanging low. I try to fight it, but I can't help the small smile that cracks through my lips. Never have I ever seen anyone make Rachel go speechless like that.

"Move along now afores I make an official complaint to management about you." She shoos Rachel away with her hand and just glares at her. Eventually Rachel turns around with the same dumbfounded expression on her face, and I watch her go through the door to the back. I turn back to the brunette to see her looking at me with her satisfied smile back in place. I return the smile and feel the familiar sensation of heat rising to my face, so I turn my eyes back to the cup in my hand and try to write the correct drink order down.

"I'll, uh, bring these right out to you." I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

"Thank you, Brittany," she responds before slowly turning and making her way over to the table Quinn picked out.

I watch her until she sits down at the table. I finally turn away and turn my attention to making the drinks. I take extra precaution to make the drinks just perfect. After all, this is my one chance to make up for my bad first impression. After several minutes of precise measuring and careful pouring I finally have both orders ready. Before I put the lid on the brunette's mocha I grab the caramel sauce and draw a smiley face on top of the whipping cream. Even though she probably won't see the drawing because a lid will be coving it, I wanted to draw a smiley face because she made me smile.

After securing the lids I carefully walk the drinks over to the table where the girls are sitting.

"Alright," I say as I'm approaching them. "I have one vanilla latte," I set Quinn's coffee in front of her, "and one caramel mocha." I turn to the brunette and set this in front of her. "Anything else I can get you?"

They steal a glance at each other before the brunette answers, "No, thank you, Brittany. This is perfect." I give a quick nod before heading back to the espresso counter.

When I get to the counter I can't help the foolish grin that takes over my face. I can't believe I worried so much about being so awkward yesterday. How long have I been doing this job? Plus she seems like the sweetest, most understanding person who's ever been into the café. Not only did she seem to forgive me for my bad service yesterday, she even stood up to me against Rachel and specifically requested me to make her drink. She just made my day, and I don't even know her name. I've decided that she's my new favorite customer, and I hope that she comes in every day. And now I finally know what I'm hoping for.