Candlelight, page 1
Candlelight
Sara C. Roethle
Vulture's Eye Publications
Candlelight
Copyright ©2013 by Sara C. Roethle
First Printing November 19, 2013
LGBT Kindle Single
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except for brief passages in connection with a review. Published by Vulture's Eye Publications.
Cover design by Sara C. Roethle.
Vulture's Eye Publications
www.vultureseyepublications.com
Manufactured in the United States of America
Chapter One
She was absolutely perfect. I watched as the candle flames flickered in the slight breeze, illuminating different areas of her face. One moment the sway of light showed me her long, pale eyelashes. The next it showed me her small, cupid's bow of a mouth. My fingers played through her long, white-blonde hair as she slept. I loved when she stayed in my bed. Having her arms intertwined with mine was the ultimate comfort.
She stirred slightly in her sleep, and my hands paused in their movements. Her name was Alicia, and mine is Abby. Even our names went together. Ally and Abby.
As far as looks were concerned, where she was light, I was dark. My near-black hair was much shorter than hers, barely reaching my shoulders. I looked down at her pale lashes again. When morning came, and her eyes opened, I would once again get to see the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. Mine are dark brown, just like the rest of me.
I snuggled down beside her, and pulled the blankets up to our chins. Having the window open this early in the year (January 3rd, to be precise) made my room cold, but I loved the smell of the crisp breeze. I slowly wrapped my arm around her thin waist. I knew she wouldn't mind; we'd been sleeping close like this for months now.
In the past, things had been different, but then Alicia's mom was diagnosed with cancer. I started staying at her house almost every night to help her sleep. After a few short months, Alicia's mom had passed. Then she started staying with me. It was too hard to be in her home where her mother's things still resided.
My parents didn't mind Alicia's nightly presence. They knew what she had been through, and frankly, they were just glad that I had a friend. A friend. That's all we really were, but I was still happy to have her. She was my friend, and I hers.
I nuzzled my face into the back of her neck, and breathed in the smell of her peppermint shampoo. The gentle rhythm of her breathing brought me peace, where everything else failed. I left the candle burning as I drifted off to sleep. Alicia liked the candlelight. I'd gone through a lot of candles lately.
I woke up freezing. Leaving the window open had been a bad idea. Alicia was already awake, but still snuggled underneath the covers. She looked miserable.
“Why on earth did you leave the window open?” she asked through chattering teeth.
I cringed. “Sorry, wait here and I'll grab a space heater.”
I tiptoed out into the hallway in my flannel shirt and boxer shorts. My mom was surprisingly awake, and clanking things around in the kitchen. My parents are late sleepers, and it was Friday, and on weekends (yes, they consider Fridays weekend) they are even later sleepers. I grabbed the space heater and hurried back to my room. As soon as I set it up, I jumped back into bed.
“Your feet are icicles!” Alicia exclaimed as I wiggled back down into the covers.
I propped my head up on my arm. “Well they wouldn't be, if you shared a little bit more body heat.”
Alicia rolled her eyes and scooted her legs against my cold feet. “You nervous for the big interview today?” she asked.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I wouldn't call a chance to be a barista a big interview, Ally.”
Alicia shoved me playfully. “It's not like your parent are making you get a job. We should both just focus on our classes.”
“Ally,” I explained. “I am the only eighteen year old in existence without a car. This simply cannot stand.”
“You have me to drive you silly, and the college is in walking distance from your house anyhow,” she answered.
I rolled back onto my pillow, and she snuggled up against my shoulder. “In answer to your question,” I replied. “Yes, I am very nervous about my interview, and you're going to have to help me pick out something to wear.”
She shifted to look up at me. “Flannel shirts and tank tops don't cut it in the barista biz?”
“Nope,” I answered. “I figure I should wear all black. You don't have a beret, do you?”
Alicia laughed, just as a knock sounded at my door.
“Breakfast girls!” my mom called.
Alicia sat up with her eyebrows raised. “She's up early,” she commented.
“I'd say she wants me to get a job, more than I want me to get a job,” I answered as I climbed out of bed.
Alicia smiled up at me. “Looks like I'm going to be drinking a lot more coffee.”
At the thought of Alicia coming to visit me at work, I felt warm despite being out of the covers. Of course, I'd have to get the job first.
Chapter Two
My mom had made pancakes. She knew they were Alicia's favorite, and had started making them for us whenever she woke up early enough. Both of my parents work from home, though they do different things. My dad is and ex Marine. Now he's a military contractor. My mom does astrology consultations.
They're a bit of an odd couple, especially when you see them side-by-side. My mom is a good five inches taller than my dad. I get my dark coloring from her, and my penchant for short hair. Her hair is even shorter than mine, barely reaching her jaw line. My dad is stout and built like a mini tank. His coloring is closer to Alicia's, and I received none of it.
Alicia sat at the dining room table with my mom, while I started a pot of coffee. My dad was still asleep. It was funny; you'd think my dad would be an early riser after his years in the military. Instead, he claimed he was making up for all of the years he was robbed of the opportunity to sleep in. He was usually up working until around 3 am, then would sleep until noon.
I fixed Alicia's coffee the way she liked it, a gross amount of sugar, and no cream. I liked my coffee all cream and no sugar. My mom didn't drink the stuff. I'd gotten the habit from my dad.
“So,” my mom began as I sat down. “Alicia tells me you're taking Shakespeare with her this semester.”
I looked down, embarrassed. My mom knew that I hated English, especially Shakespeare. “Just trying to branch out a bit,” I mumbled into my coffee.
In truth, I'd only signed up because Alicia wanted me to. I could suffer through a bit of prose, if it meant Alicia would have to help me with my homework.
“What else are you taking?” my mom asked when I was clearly done answering her question.
I shoveled a bite of pancake into my mouth, and talked around chewing. “Intro to Chem, and Sociology 101.”
My mom beamed. “Going to be a scientist after all?”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
“Don't be so modest,” Alicia interrupted, then turned towards my mom. “Abby is going to be a Marine Biologist, and she's going to be brilliant at it.”
My stomach did a nervous flop. I rolled my eyes to distract everyone from the nine billion butterflies wreaking havoc in my stomach. “I need to get ready for my interview,” I announced, shoving a few more bites of pancake into my mouth.
I grabbed my coffee and headed back upstairs. I heard Alicia tell my mom thanks for breakfast, then she was behind me on the stairs, her own coffee in hand.
“Sorry for bringing up the biologist thing,” she whispered, “but you should be proud of it.”
“It's okay,” I mumbled. I wasn't proud of it. How could I be proud of something I knew I'd never accomplish? It was a pipe-dream at best. I'd probably end up working at the coffee shop for the rest of my life. That was, if I even got the job.
We reached my room and went in. Alicia put her coffee on my computer desk, and started pawing through my closet. “We really need to go shopping,” she commented. “All of your clothes are too big for you. Do you want to borrow something of mine for your interview?”
“Oh please,” I answered sarcastically. “You're four inches shorter than me, and twenty pounds lighter.”
Alicia laughed and threw a dress at me. “This will have to do then.”
It was the dress I had worn to her mother's funeral. She must not have really looked at it, or I doubt she would have picked it out.
She came to stand beside me and grabbed my hand. “I know what dress it is Abby,” she said, reading my mind. “I've got to move on at some point.”
My stomach did its little flip flop again. It was good for Alicia to move on . . . but what would it mean for me? I felt dreadful even thinking it, but the thought was still there. Once Alicia had dealt with her mother's death, would she still need me?
I gave her hand a squeeze, then let go. “I should probably shower,” I mumbled.
She beamed up at me. “I'll head home. Call me after your interview, and we'll go buy our books for class.”
With that she was gone. I stood for a moment and looked at the empty doorway. A moment later, I heard the front door open and shut, then a car starting.
Feeling miserable, I trudged across the hallway and into the bathroom. My nerves for my interview were outweighed by my nerves over Alicia. Surely she wouldn't just ditch out on me when she was feeling better, but there was still a hard knot in my stomach. I couldn't help but feel that soon I would be alone again.
Chapter Three
I arrived at my interview way too early. I went up to the counter and told the girl there who I was. She told me her manager wasn't even there yet, and I'd have to wait.
I went and sat on a couch that was set up against a wall near to the counter. Nina's, that's what the coffee shop was called, was a pretty cool place. It was only a block away from the college, so a lot of students hung out there.
The furniture was eclectic, and looked like the owner had bought it all over time, from a myriad of different places. The couch I was currently sitting on was done in a bright, geometric pattern, while the loveseat sitting caddy corner to it was covered in a pattern of trees and peaches.
The girl from the counter came over with two steaming cups, setting one in front of me on the small coffee table that serviced the couch and loveseat. She plopped down on the loveseat with her own cup and smiled at me. It was one of those rare types of smiles that was completely unguarded.
It seems to me that most smiles are forced in some way. You feel like you're supposed to smile, so you do. It's much more rare when a smile comes from genuine happiness. It was weird that the girl was smiling like that at work. She was probably a psychopath.
She had extremely curly, reddish brown hair, and wore cranberry colored lipstick. She gave off the immediate impression of being cool. It was probably her clothes, which I was surprised to find were her own, and not a uniform.
“I'm Jem,” she announced, holding her hand out to me.
I took her hand and gave it an awkward shake. “Abby,” I replied nervously.
Jem cocked her head quizzically at me. “I guess I should have asked if you liked coffee, before bringing you one,” she said, gesturing to the mug sitting on the table. “It's pretty slow in here around this time, so I figured I'd keep you company while you waited.”
I took a deep breath and let it out, attempting to release some of my tension. I managed a small smile, and replied, “Thanks. Sorry, I'm really nervous.”
Jem smiled knowingly. “First job interview?”
I raised my coffee in cheers. “That obvious?”
Jem laughed. She had a throaty laugh that could be either irritating or lovely, depending on your opinion. For now I was leaning towards lovely.
“You'll do fine,” she comforted. “I'll put in a good word for you.”
I took a big sip of the coffee. She'd left it black, which I was glad for. If she'd have put sugar in it, I would have felt bad saying anything, and I would have had to drink it anyhow. I hate sugary coffee.
Jem looked up as the door jingled and opened. A woman walked in. No, that wasn't right; she glided in. She wore a dark, loose-fitting coat, and big, movie-star style sunglasses. They took up a good portion of her face, and made her look slightly bug-like. Her obviously dyed black hair was pin straight, and reached past her waist. Everything about her spoke of drama.
Jem stood and went back behind the counter. “Hey Trish,” she said to the woman. “The fresh meat is over there.”
I looked back to Trish, who was gliding in my direction. Apparently the fresh meat was me. I stood and tugged my dress down, feeling suddenly flustered. Trish held out her hand to me, not like she wanted it shook, but like she wanted it kissed or something equally awkward.
I grabbed onto the edges of her fingers and shook her hand gingerly. “I'm Abby,” I announced, trying to see her eyes behind her sunglasses.
“Charmed,” she replied. “When can you start . . . Abby?”
It took me a moment to process what she'd said. “So . . . I'm hired?” I stammered.
Instead of answering me, she turned to regard Jem. “Get her started on paperwork, and fit her into the schedule?” she asked her.
Jem grinned. “You got it Trish.”
With that, Trish walked back out of the building. Jem came to stand beside me. “That,” I stated, “was weird.”
Jem laughed. “You'll get used to her. She's usually not that bad. My guess would be that Ms. Trish had a few extra glasses of red last night. She'll be off to recover in the dark for the rest of the day.”
I nodded. So I had a job . . . a job working for someone who conducted interviews hungover. If what had just transpired could even be called an interview.
Jem grabbed my elbow and led me back behind the counter. “Do you have time to fill out some paperwork today?” she asked.
I looked at the wall clock and shrugged. “I've got a few hours.” I really didn't want to wait to tell Alicia about my job though. “Mind if I make a quick call?” I added.
Jem sauntered back to the loveseat and her cup of coffee, then smiled up at me. “Take your time.”
At Jem's raised eyebrow, I pulled my cell phone out of one of the pockets on my dress. Gotta love a dress with pockets.
“Abby?” Alicia answered on the third ring. “Are you ready to go get our books.”
“Oh, no,” I stuttered. “I was just calling to let you know that I got the job, so you'll have to become a regular coffee shop goer.”
“That's great!” she answered, making me smile. “When will you be done today?”
My smile faded. Wishing she would be more excited for me, but not wanting to be a baby about it, I answered, “A few hours I think. I'll call you when I'm done.”
“Great Abby,” she answered sounding rushed. “See you soon!” Then she hung up.
I looked at my phone like it was a pile of vomit, then put it back into my pocket.
“Boyfriend not too happy about the job?” Jem asked as she walked past me to rinse out her mug.
I frowned. “Something like that,” I muttered.
Jem placed a few forms on the counter in front of me, and handed me a pen. “Well maybe some form filling will take your mind off of it.”
I laughed in spite of my sour mood, and started filling my information in. I could feel Jem watching me. I tried to catch sight of her out of the corner of my eye, but she quickly started putting away coffee mugs off of a dryer rack. I watched as she methodically put the mugs away, and became temporarily distracted from my forms.
I noticed a bracelet made of brightly colored glass beads around her wrist. “Cool bracelet,” I commented, reaching out to touch it.
“You like it?” she asked, smiling. She pulled it off of her wrist and held it out to me. “Take it. Consider it a congratulations on your new job gift. If your boyfriend won't be excited for you, then I will.”
“I couldn't,” I answered, turning back to my forms. “I'll probably turn out terrible at this whole barista business, then you'll regret giving it to me.”
Jem gently grabbed my wrist, and slipped the bracelet over my hand. “I insist.”
I rolled the bracelet up and down my wrist, liking the feel of it. I looked up from my wrist at Jem and smiled. It wasn't even forced. Maybe this job would be the good thing that I'd hoped it would be.
Chapter Four
A few hours later, I left the coffee shop to meet Alicia. Jem had shown me how to run the espresso machines, and how to make a few different specialty drinks. I was scheduled to go back in at noon the next day to continue training.
Alicia had offered to pick me up, but I told her I could just walk, seeing as I was only a short distance away anyhow.
Alicia was waiting out front of the college bookstore when I arrived. She was wearing a bright red coat, that made her hair and skin look extremely white in contrast.
“Hey working girl,” she said happily when she saw me. She linked her arm with mine and led me into the bookstore.
We already had our book lists, and went straight to the shelves to look for what we needed. “Holy hell!” Alicia exclaimed. “Eighty bucks for one measly book?”
I giggled as the lady at the counter glared. I shoved Alicia's arm playfully and picked up one of the books I needed.
Alicia leaned in close and whispered, “It's community college, doesn't that mean it's supposed to be cheaper?”
“No,” I whispered back, “it just means you're not smart enough for a University.”
