A/N-Hi, I'm back, sorry about the wait, I have been working on other projects. AM
Disclaimer-Any recognisable dialogue is not mine.
Here it was, the Cybercafe. He was slightly apprehensive of starting his first shift if being truthful. It wasn't the job that worried him, it was how long he would be able to keep it a secret. His dad didn't know about the job, he had forged the signature on the application without his knowledge. His dad didn't approve of many of the activities he enjoyed, he had told him outright as well. 'Artist abilities are a waste of time, do not mistake me when I say that I do not approve.' He never did raise his voice, but the throbbing of a vein at his throat and the slight twitching of an eyebrow cemented his mood clearly. Drawing was abhorred, and a job as a bus boy would be even worse.
He was on time, it was ten to three, so he was actually early. The room was busy, very busy, full of other teenagers and a few adults as well, but mostly teens. He couldn't see Hayley anywhere, she was his new boss, or the other kid that he was sharing the shift either, though he was a bit vague on what the later looked like.
Hayley was really friendly when she had interviewed him. Apparently she was looking for kids who were responsible, but at the same time were friendly and good with customers. He had been given two shifts a week, Wednesday and Friday from three till six. She had told him to turn up just before three and that she would get him started. The only problem was that he couldn't see her, and bright red hair did tend to stand out in a crowd.
He had already asked a curly haired guy who said he couldn't help him. The were plenty of other people nearby that he could ask, though most seemed to be involved in conversations so he was loathe to ask them. There was one table though, to his right, whose occupants weren't doing anything in particular. An African American boy in mostly blue and a girl in yellow with long honey coloured hair were both on computers, one playing some game and the other on the internet.
He walked over to the pair, "Hey, I'm looking for Hayley, I'm suppose to start work today," he said.
"She's around here somewhere, haven't I seen you around Reefside?" the boy asked.
"I just moved here last week, my name's Trent,"
"I'm Ethan, and this is Kira," the boy replied.
"Hi,"the girl said.
"If you want to find Hayley you could try the stockroom, she might be in there with the other guy," Ethan suggested helpfully.
"Or she's coming this way," Kira cut in.
"Trent, good you're here," Hayley smiled, walking over to the three. "Come with me and I'll get you started."
He gave his thanks the the pair and followed Hayley to behind the wooden counter, "Thanks for the job and all," he said.
Hayley smiled again, "Don't mention it, Trent. You're the kind of employee I need here."
"Okay, where do I start?" he asked.
"Steven's in the stockroom, he'll be out in a bit…"
Steven, that must be the other kid that had his shift.
"...you can start off serving behind the counter, and he can get the tables. Does that sound okay to you?"
His first day had turned out quite well. Hayley had effectively tossed him in the deep end and left him to deal with the after school rush of hungry teenagers, though she was never really that far. Steven hadn't turned out to be as much help as he had originally thought. He was tall, well taller than himself at least, and thin, very thin. It looked like he had had a growths spurt, without being told that it would involve him getting bigger. He was easy enough to get on with, though in truth he'd been glad when Steven had gone home, the guy had some issue with the Jocks. He didn't know what it was about, but he kept making offhand remarks about them every time he had to serve one.
The throng of customers had thinned out eventually just before they had closed at six. Ethan and Kira had left with a boy in red not long after he'd spoken with them. And Hayley had kept returning, checking on how he was getting on. She had switched their roles over about half way through the shift. He had seen lots of people during his time waiting on tables, except the one that he would have expected to. Sammy hadn't shown her face the entire time and that was strange. It was the cafe's grand opening and she was Hayley's niece after all. Even Dr Oliver had stayed for a bit, Hayley had mentioned that they were married, but still no sign of Sammy. He didn't even know if she was in the building. No matter how small she was, the battered green Converse were always a bit of a give away, according to Hayley, she never took them off.
Stacking the last of the Mountain Dew, he left the stockroom. Speak of the devil, Sammy was in front of the counter mopping the floor. It was a rather comical sight, she wasn't very big and the mop was almost the same size.
He walked up to her, "hey, Sam."
She didn't look up. "Hello, Trent," she replied evenly, ringing the mop out in the bucket.
"I didn't know you were here,"
"I was studying in the back room," she replied, still not straying from the even tone.
That's probably where Hayley must have been earlier. The back room doubled as the office and was where he had been interviewed.
He picked up the rag on the counter. "What were you looking at?" he asked casually, sweeping the rag over the surface.
"The causes and repercussions of the First World War," she replied.
"Sounds…interesting."
It really didn't.
"Yes, it is," she replied flatly.
Something had changed about her. Before she had been friendly if not a bit defensive, now she was flat and unwilling to respond beyond a few basic sentences.
"I wouldn't have the patience to read something like that," he paused. "Whenever I try I usually just end up drawing instead."
"That's nice," she murmured.
He stopped, "are you okay?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"I'm fine," she replied softly.
The early evening sun shone through the window. He sat down and opened up the almost non existent paper on his computer. It was a balmy Friday evening and he had been planning to sit by the lake and do some drawing. His dad was going out for the evening and had 'instructed' him to spend the time to work on his paper.
His science teacher, Dr Oliver, had set them the task of picking a fossil and writing a paper on whichever creature it was, without the use of the internet. He'd said that it was so that he could gage their knowledge.
It wasn't that he was trying to skive off his homework, it was more that Palaeontology was something that his brain didn't agree with. It never had, his Mom and Dad had both been passionate about the subject and used to get him to name the pictures that they had taken of the fossils they were studying, but none of it ever stuck. All he could ever see were the patterns within the stones.
The fossil that he had picked looked to be something with wings. Dr Oliver had given them the names of the fossils and a tag line of sorts for each, just not which corresponded with which.
He had managed to come to the decision that it was probably the Archaeopteryx, 'the Missing Link'. The only problem was that he didn't know that much about one.
It was fairly comprehensive to say that he was stuck. His dad had said that he expected nothing other than straight 'A's in every subject, as "anything else would be an insult to the name Mercer," and that would be doubtful if he handed in his homework next Tuesday with only the words, 'The Archaeopteryx is called the 'Missing Link' because…'
He signed into his Chatter account and went on the search bar, trying to find one name in particular. It was a good website, built on the premise that you can speak with anyone in either messages, pictures or, if they were online as well, in video chat.
He scrolled through the names that came up and there a lot of them. It was normally easier to find someone. There were two lists, one was for people you have talked to recently and the other was for 'friends', people who you talk to often. The problem came when trying to find a 'stranger', someone who you either hadn't talked to recently or had never talked to, you needed to know their birthdate, or middle name or something that wasn't shown on their public profile.
He started adding things to the search until he had gotten the name he was looking for. He clicked on the link for video call and waited as the call went through, hopefully Dr Oliver would be willing to give him a hint.
"Hello, Trent," a face had appeared on screen.
"Hey, Sam, you're not busy?"
"No, I was just reading," she replied, gesturing to the book just visible within the camera frame. "Is something wrong?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to write my Palaeontology paper and I'm having problems. Is there anyway you could help me and ask Dr Oliver something?"
She froze slightly, and in a very quiet voice said, "what would you like me to ask him?"
"Can you ask him why the Archaeopteryx is called the missing link?"
"Are you not supposed to be writing on your own?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and staring at him questioningly, a look that made her large blue eyes look owlish.
"I am," he replied, "but I need straight A's as well."
"Well, the Archaeopteryx had the appearance of the modern day bird, with a wish bone and some symmetrical flight feathers in its wings, but it also had the characteristics of some dinosaurs or reptiles like the teeth and bony tail. So you could say that it was half and half," Sammy rattled off suddenly.
"How do you know all that?"
"There was a book," she replied, something sparked in her eyes, "give me a minute."
She turned away from the screen and got up, giving him an unfettered look at the surroundings. Everything was pink, the floor, the furniture, the curtains, everything except for the walls which were white. From a artist's point of view, the colours were good, they didn't clash. But that seemed to be entirely missed on Sammy, who, bent over the chest of drawers in the corner, stood out in her pale green shorts.
After a few minutes of this happening she returned to the screen.
"Nice room," he said.
She glanced around begrudgingly, "I suppose. Anyway, I found the book." She held up the book that she had been searching for. It was red leather bound with gold wording up the side reading, Ronsom's Encyclopaedia of Archosauria and their Genus.
She started flipping through pages. "Here it is," she said eventually. "Archaeopteryx, also known by the German Urv…urv…urv…o...gel meaning Original or first wing…"
He switched programs and started typing quickly while she spoke. Hopefully this would be good enough to keep his dad happy.
"...They lived in the Late Jurassic era, about 150 million years ago, in what is now southern Germany when it was an archipelago closer to the Equator. They were known to live on land near stagnant salty lagoons, where life survived on the surface of the toxic waters. The only known specimens to have been found showed signs of immaturity and as such was probably the reason why they died."
He pressed Save. "Thanks, Sam, you're a life saver."
"That's okay," she replied, leaning to the side to put the book down.
Suddenly a large distorted head fell in front of the camera and took up most of the screen.
"Uh…what's that?"
In the edge of the screen he saw Sammy reach up and remove whatever the object was.
As she withdrew it, he could see what it was, a bunny, a stuffed bunny. She held it up to the screen. It was old and frayed in a few paces, and had faded from varying shades of pale pink to grey.
"What's her name?"
"He's called Beanie," she replied
He snorted with laughter, "Why did you call it Beanie?"
"Because it's filled with beans, it's a beanie bunny," she explained in such a serious voice that made her sound as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
"I used have a stuffed animal," he said suddenly. "I don't know where it went though."
"Where's Deeno, Trent? Find Deeno?" A woman said from somewhere deep within his memory.
"Trent? Are you okay?"
He came back to reality suddenly. "...Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Thanks, Sam. See you later."
He pressed ESC and the screen went dark again. He had no idea what Deeno was or who's voice it was either. Oh well.
He leaned back in his chair and glanced around, what to do now. He could return to his earlier plan of sketching outside now, although…
A ping made him look back to the screen, a message had popped up, SAJ has just added you to her friends list.
He smiled. Thanks Sam. She really had been a big help to him. He'd have to do something to thank her. That's what he could do. He turned his chair around and started digging through the pile beside his computer. It was a really bad habit he'd developed. There were piles of things everywhere, on his desk, by his bed, underneath the floorboards in one particular spot. It all looked like total chaos, but to him everything had a place in a system. The only problem was that things never ended up in the same place.
He stood up and looked around, where was it? He had been using the sketch pad last night by the lake…then he had come back inside and put it down and…and. Ugh! He flopped down on the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. It was one pad in particular, specially designed for comics and cartoons, the paper was thicker, better for absorbing ink.
His dad had one rule, independence. And cleaning his room was his own responsibility, no one else's. Lucky him, it allowed his piles of random things to manifest, not so good now though, was it?
His dad…his dad had come up to his room last night to speak with him about something…he had been on his bed drawing and…
He got up, stuffed behind the head board was the sketch pad. He'd hidden it there last night so that his dad wouldn't know that he had been drawing again. He flipped it open and started doing some rough sketches. The storyline played out fairly easily. Young hero, tragic past, ass kicking, a bunny, it worked. Hopefully she would like it too.
A/N-Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon...sooner than this one. AM