More John in this one, but it's still mostly introducing the universe, not much action. Though Clarice is falling head over heels.
Two short notes :
- I'm no good at writing romance. Seriously. I'm aroace, so it makes pretty much no sense to me, and I have no idea why I like writing Thunderblink. But in any case, having them meet and develop feelings for each other is putting me way out of my comfort zone, and I'll always write romantic relationship as friendships first, with added extras...
- Anti-mutant rhethoric, whatever it's supposed to be called (there should be a name for it. Lauren uses racism in the pilot, but we need something specific). I tend to write it like ableism, because there are a lot of parallels (and because it's the oppression I know best). Clarice displays more than a bit of internalized ableism-for-mutant (or whatever) in this chapter, so you should be warned if you're sensitive to that kind of things, and also know that it doesn't mean they're my opinion, just where she is as a character at this point.
A few hours into her shift, Clarice is engrossed in getting all the orders right when John walks into the café. Marcos is looking over her shoulder to make sure she doesn't make mistakes, and at this hour the crowd enjoying a late breakfast is crossing with those taking their mid-morning break, so the café is packed. Marcos didn't lie when he said they have plenty of work to do. Clarice can't even see how he and Lorna managed on their own.
She catches a glimpse of John as he crosses the room to the employee-only door at the back. Clarice now knows that Marcos and Lorna−and, according to Shatter, John himself−live upstairs, so she assumes that's where he's headed. She loses track of everything but what's in front of her after that.
Fifteen minutes later he's somehow standing in line in front of her.
"Hi," he says with a blinding smile when the customer before him leaves.
"Why did you even take the line?" Clarice asks bluntly. "I thought you were basically part of the house."
"Seemed only fair," John says. "And I wanted to see how you were doing."
"Oh, so you're gonna watch me until I make a mistake?"
John laughs. "Should I? I really meant I wanted to say hi."
"Well, hi, then," Clarice says dryly. "What's your order today?"
"Coffee, black," John answers, putting a few bills on the counter.
"I've been told not to take your money," Clarice says.
"Hum, already trained, I see," John pouts, taking back his cash. "I had to try."
"Why?"
"Because you're new?"
"No, I mean why do you bother trying to pay? If Marcos and Lorna don't want you to."
"I'm here almost every day," John says. "I don't see how living with them gives me the right to abuse their friendship by getting free coffee as well. But it's nothing you need to worry about."
"Clarice, the line is getting longer," Marcos starts, coming behind her. "Oh, hey, John. You're the one holding everyone up?"
"Sorry," John says, not sounding very sorry. Clarice puts his coffee down on the counter. John takes it with a grateful smile. "Here it is. I'm going now, don't worry."
Absently taking the next customer's order, Clarice can't help following him with her eyes as he goes to sit at the same table as the other day. The tight tee-shirt he's wearing is showing off his muscular arms nicely, but he looks tired, and he walks like he's trying not to limp. Clarice frowns.
"Hey," Marcos puts a hand on her shoulder. "Lost in your thoughts? Come on, ten more minutes and you can take a break."
"Sorry," Clarice says, coming back to the task in front of her and realizing she hasn't heard a word of what the customer just asked for. "Can you say that again?" she asks him apologetically.
Clarice doesn't know what makes her go straight to John's table when her break starts, but she can feel Marcos's amused gaze on her.
John looks up from his computer and smiles when she sits across from him. "Hey there," he says.
"Hey yourself," Clarice says. She doesn't understand why she feels so comfortable with someone she's barely met, but all she's heard about John paints him as a good man, so she's willing to go with the flow.
"So how's your day going so far?" John asks. "Made any mistake with the orders yet?"
Clarice blushes−wow, she hasn't done that in a while. "Not yet," she answers, trying to make it playful rather than shy. "You distracted me, though."
"Sorry about that," John laughs. "Couldn't help myself. We haven't had someone new around here in a while."
"Right," Clarice says. "I heard you work at the mutant community center?"
"Part-time, yes," Johns answers. "I was just working on our summer schedule, actually. Marcos told you that?"
"Shatter. So what's going to happen at the center this summer?"
John looks at her, like he's trying to evaluate whether she really wants to know or if she's just making conversation. Clarice returns his stare challengingly.
"Well, our year-round courses stop during the summer holidays, but we try to have activities for the kids during the day, especially for those who can't go on vacation. This year we should also have a couple of weekend self-defense workshops for adults and teenagers. Then there's our annual summer celebration, and our Independence Day party, of course."
"You're organizing all that?"
"Thank God no!" John exclaims. "Just the workshops and some of the kids' stuff. But I'm responsible for our accounts, so I have to know what's going on. Have you been to the center? I don't remember seeing you there."
"No, I've only been in town for a couple of months."
"A couple of months is long enough to check out the local community though, isn't it?"
"I guess," Clarice says, a bit annoyed at having to justify herself. "I was looking for a job, and I didn't have time for anything else. I did meet Shatter though. I've been volunteering at the shelter."
The truth is that she heard about the center on her first day here, but it's open affiliations with activist groups made her reluctant to even go there. She's done with mutant politics. To be honest, she doesn't even know what she's doing here talking to John, who in Shatter's words is a pretty vocal advocate for mutant rights. She swore to herself she wouldn't get involved again.
"Right," John says. "Well, you're welcome to come by anytime. You might be interested to know that one of our missions is helping mutants find jobs where they won't be discriminated against."
"I have a job, now," Clarice answers, letting some of her irritation show. "What makes you think I want another?"
"This is a part-time position, and I was there when you talked with Marcos, remember? But you're right, I shouldn't be making assumptions," John apologizes, raising his hands in surrender. "We've barely met, after all."
Clarice nods curtly. "I should get back to work," she says.
"Of course," John smiles politely.
Clarice get up, already regretting the surprising easiness of their first exchanges. "You want another coffee?" she asks, nodding toward his empty cup.
"Not yet," John says, with a warmer tone. "But thank you."
Going back behind the counter, Clarice can't help throwing another glance at him, engrossed once again in whatever he's doing on his computer. She curses herself, purposefully looking away. She's far too distracted for her first day on a new job.
It takes Clarice a few weeks to settle into the job and get a feel for the café's rhythm. She works Tuesday through Friday, from opening to three p.m. The café is open until six, but they don't need her because it's always quieter in the afternoon. Most of the crowd consists of students and teachers from the nearby university building, which is why Marcos and Lorna haven't considered opening on weekends so far.
The job is a good one, all things considered. Her part-time salary isn't going to be enough to buy herself a new car anytime soon, but it pays the rent and she's lived on a lot less. The café has a nice atmosphere even at the busiest times, and she gets on well with Marcos. Lorna has been a bit standoffish so far, but Clarice hasn't had to work with her that much, so they have yet to really get to know each other.
John is there most days, usually coming in sometime in the morning and staying at least until the end of Clarice's shift. He always sits at the same table, which Marcos often reserves for him in the mornings. Clarice often finds herself observing him work, and she occasionally feels his gaze on her, but they don't say more than basic niceties to each other. A certain coolness seems to have instilled itself between them, and though John clearly regrets it, Clarice is glad that it keeps him at arm's length. She has no intention on acting on her attraction for him.
Though it would be much easier to convince herself of that if she wasn't stalking him on social media during the weekends. The worst part is that he doesn't actually post anything, so she has to look at Marcos and Lorna's Instagram Stories to get glimpses of him. She feels like a thirteen-year-old with a crush, it's ridiculous.
She notices several visible mutants come into the café, grabbing a sandwich with a wave at Marcos or sitting down for a while with friends. Clarice realizes that she's never truly been in a place where humans and mutants are this comfortable side by side. Patrons rarely even look at her sideways, and that's only ever happened to her before in mutant-only spaces−though even there, she's faced plenty of hatred.
Some of the mutants who come in have it even worse than her, who can mostly pass in the streets if she wears sunglasses. Pedro, who orders black coffee at nine every morning and chatters with Marcos in Spanish, probably couldn't disguise himself if he tried. The first time Clarice is the one to take his order, he nods at her with a smile and a look of recognition in his eyes, one she knows well. It would be like a secret handshake if it wasn't so bitter.
There are others, too, who don't have obvious mutations, but who greet Marcos and Lorna more familiarly than regular patrons, and often sit with John. Clarice doesn't manage to keep track of all of them, but she assumes they're members of the mutant center, or at least of the local community.
One red-haired woman sits awfully close to John, almost talking in his ear, making Clarice frowns. She hasn't seriously considered that he might be with someone−there's nothing that points to that on his online profile, and she knows he lives with Marcos and Lorna−but she hates how the thought makes her feel. Which is completely unfair, because she's not interested in him. At all.
By the end of her third week, she's exhausted. She hasn't needed to be on her feet this much in a while, but more than that, she hasn't had an occupation where she needed to see so many people in one day in a long time. She's gotten far too used to sitting at home on her own and only seeing a few select friends.
"It takes a while to get used to," Marcos tells her when he notices her tiredness.
"You tell me. How long have you been doing this?"
"The café's only been open for about a year, but I worked at a nightclub back before I met Lorna."
"A nightclub? You?" Clarice can't quite see it. So far, Marcos has been the picture of the quiet, settled expectant father. Not the kind of person you'd chose to mix drinks in a club.
"I was very different, back then," Marcos smiles. "But I wasn't very good at the job. I was dating the owner's daughter, and her father tried to provide for me by making me work for him."
"That sounds−" Clarice starts.
"Shady?"
"I was going to say old-school."
"Oh. Well, in any case, he threw me out when I broke up with his daughter. That's when I met Lorna. What about you, you have anyone in your life?"
"Nope," Clarice shrugs. "I'm happily single."
She's fairly sure Marcos sees right through her smile, glimpsing the bad experiences that got her there, but he doesn't comment on it.
"Does that mean you're free next weekend? We're having a get-together at the mutant center Saturday night, you should come. You haven't been there yet, have you? Shatter will be there, and John."
"Damn," Clarice groans.
"What?"
"You're the third person to tell me I should come to the center. I can't really resist any longer without being weird, can I?"
"Why the resistance?" Marcos asks, frowning.
"I'm just not one for social niceties, that's all," Clarice answers, conscious that she's far from convincing once again. She needs to work on her evasion techniques.
"Right. Well, I won't try to convince you, Lorna or John can do that better than me. But I will tell you those are usually very nice events."
"I'll think about it," Clarice shrugs, grabbing her handbag and her coat. "See you on Tuesday."