"Mamma, I'm heading to work!" Seph slings her backpack over her shoulder.
"Wait, wait, wait just a minute girl. Let yo' momma give you kiss goodbye. Oh. Oh my God. Baby, what did you do to your hair?"
Seph self-consciously rubs the top of her head. "I was tired of the 'fro, Ma."
"You look like a boy now."
"Gee, thanks."
"Hehehe, I'm just playing, sweetie. Go on, get to work, beautiful girl."
Seph smiles, wide and pretty, and gives her mom a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, Mamma. I want to get most of my paper done at the library, but I'll try to be back home by 10:00 tonight."
"Okay, baby. Have a good day."
When Seph gets to her job at the Barnes & Noble Starbucks, she knows that her time there is not going to be very enjoyable.
"Late the first day, huh? Supervisor ain't gonna like that, girl."
"I know, I know, but there was some weird holdup on the Metro, and—" Seph takes a deep breath. "You don't think she'll fire me on the first day for this, do you?"
Angie—that's what her nametag says—shakes her head. "Naw, but she ain't gonna give you no warm welcome, neither. Speak of the devil…hello, Ms. Seeger."
Ms. Seeger has wild, curly orange hair and terrible acne scars on her cheeks and forehead. "Get back to work, Angie," she snaps. She also currently has a very angry looking pimple right on the tip of her nose and she does not look happy to see Seph.
"Late on the first day, Miss Primavera. That's the first strike, one more and you're gone, understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
Satisfied, Ms. Seeger pivots on her heel and walks back into the bookstore.
Seph turns her towards the sound of Angie whistling. "Dat right der? Dat was a close one, honey. You musta caught Ms. Seeger on a bad day, mhmm. I'm Angie, by the way." She sticks out a chubby hand.
"Seph," Seph replies, taking hold of Angie's hand. They shake. "Nice to meet you, Angie."
Angie gives her a big, toothy grin. "Aight, aight. Now, as soon as them doors open, white people gon' be flooding in here like it's the End of Days. White people love their Starbucks, you know. So just be prepared fo' dat. You ready?"
"Yes, Angie. I'm ready."
She was not ready. Angie was right; as soon as Barnes & Noble opened its doors, people started pouring in to get their Starbucks fix. Most of the people were white too, not that it really mattered in the long run. By 10:00am, Seph was already exhausted; now that it's almost 12:00, she feels like a zombie. Thirty more minutes, Seph, you can do this. Her feet ache, her fingers are numb, and she still has three classes to go to after this. I hate being poor.
"Heya, Hayden, how you doin'?"
"Hey Angie. I'm doing well, how are you?" Something about the voice makes Seph look up from her mind-numbing task of making drinks. It's soft, but deep; a low rumble in the owner's chest, that has the quality of an echo from some far-off place she's never been to before. Mamma would say that it's a poet's voice, a layered voice. Maybe he's cute? she wonders with a sly grin.
Seph sneaks a quick peak of the man, and she likes what she sees. His dark, softly curling hair is tousled in such a way that it looks like he just woke up. Seph smiles to herself. This guy definitely pulls off the bedhead look. He has pretty, sea-blue eyes that stand out beneath nice lashes, and a well-groomed beard, too. He's very cute, Seph decides; he's a welcome piece of sunshine for her gloomy first day at work.
"I'm doin' fine, sir, thank you fo' askin'. Will that be your usual ordah?"
"Yes, the dark roast, please. Thank you."
"No, honey, thank you. Seph, we got a dark roast!"
"On it!" Seph replies, stealing another look at the stranger. She feels slightly silly for acting like such a little schoolgirl, but she figures that these fun moments will keep her from losing her mind working here. When the drink is ready, she calls out his name. "Hayden!" He's got a dog with him. Looks like service dog, too. That's interesting…
"Hayden!" she calls again, this time a little louder. His shoulders set and she thinks she might've startled him. He turns around, stares at her for a couple seconds with a bemused look on his face, picks up his drink from the counter, and sits at a table on the far right. The far, far right. As far away as one can get from the Starbucks counter without actually leaving the café. Well, you may be cute, but you're a little weird, dude. She got a better glance at his face when he grabbed his drink, and Seph thinks that he looks vaguely familiar.
"Hey Angie, is that guy an actor or something?"
Angie starts to laugh as she begins to take an order from another customer. "Hell naw, girl. That's Hayden Underwood." Hayden Underwood, Hayden Underwood, Hayden Underwood…Seph racks her brain with the name, but comes up with nothing. Two frappes done, 10 more minutes to go. "I don't recognize the name."
"I didn't neither, but Ms. Seeger told me an' err'one else who works here dat man be richer than the Lord God in heaven." Angie laughs her big, throaty laugh again. "He don't dress well for a rich man though, no sir. Looks more like a hobo that walked in off the street, especially now that he's got that damn dog with him. Ayy, but he sure is cute, though, I'll give him that much. Awkward as hell, but as long as he keeps comin' here to bright up my day, well, s'all good with me." Seph doesn't think he really looks like a hobo, per se, more like he just throws on whatever articles of clothing he has laying around the house and hopes that they match. It's the look of a man who doesn't care. Angie is right: Mr. Underwood does not dress like a rich man. At least he trims his beard.
"He comes in here every day?"
Angie smiles at her. "He sure does. Buys a book and a coffee err'day and spends a couple hours reading. Has been fo' the last couple of months."
Okay, maybe working at Starbucks won't be so bad after all…