Strength
The new girl’s long black hair was tied back in a high pony tail and she wore our uniform of black pants and a white t-shirt. Her posture was straight, but her shoulders were tense as she walked. She stared at her phone in her hand and her perfectly manicured fingers flew over the screen angrily. When she looked up, gray eyes locked on mine. All signs of hostility I spotted a few seconds ago was nowhere in sight.
I’ve never seen this girl before in my life, but there was something familiar about her. I felt drawn to her and that made me irritable. Two years ago, I started working here with Gabe. I have not once in my life been late. Gabe had always been popular with people. This job fit him like a glove, or a second skin. His kindness, joking manor, and bubbly personality made him the perfect barista. It was hard not to like him. I don’t have any of the qualities that Gabe has and I’m definitely not fun.
It wasn’t easy, but I have since perfected the smile and the customer service voice with Gabe’s help. I now know how to look sweet and sound like, well, a people person. While I have come to like some of my customers, I don’t care for the majority of them. Deep down I feel like a fraud, like a wolf wearing sheep’s clothing. While I am the perfect customer service representative for Big Foot Java, this person isn’t a customer.
I’m not irritated by the fact that I have to babysit her, but the fact that she’s this late. The clock says it’s five. Her tardiness shows how much she doesn’t take this job seriously and I know she’s going to be a pain in the ass. I walked towards the large sliding door and unlocked it. Pushing it open, she puts her bag into her little bag, before flashing me with a smile. She walked in and I closed the door behind her. When I turn around she’s facing me with an outstretched hand, which I ignore. I don’t like being touched and I don’t like touching people unless I really have to.
“Hi! I’m the new girl. You can call me Mave,” she said.
“I’m Adea and you are late,” I said. She dropped her hand and folded her arms in front of her chest. Her smile dropped as her eyes rolled so far back into her head I thought they’d get stuck.
“I’m sorry about that. I had an incident at the packhouse before I left and I couldn’t leave on time. Protective betas and idiot brothers, right?” She asked. Her smile returned as she looked at me expectantly. I don’t know what she wants from me, but I’ve got nothing to give.
“I wouldn’t know. We have a strict attendance policy, so please try not to be late tomorrow,” I said. Surprise colored her features for a second before it disappeared.
“For sure,” she said brightly.
“As for your stuff, you can put it back there,” I said.
I pointed toward the way to the bathroom. There were hooks right outside the door and led to the other door. They were for whoever was on shift. “You can hang up your jackets and bags there. Lunch can go there too, they don’t want us to have our stuff near the work stations. That door is only to be open when we have deliveries. We have to come through the sliding door, so thank you for that.” I pointed to the tall black framed glass door across from the bathroom door.
“Nothing near the work station and all of my things go over there. Noted!” Mavy said.
She walked to the back and I went to the free station. By the time I unlocked it, signed in, and double checked that the cash in the register matched the paperwork from the night shift, Mave was ready.
“I grabbed this apron back there. Is that okay?” She asked. One of the required black aprons was wrapped around her waist and hung down the front.
“Perfect. Make sure to leave that here before you leave. That one belongs to someone else. I’ll have a new one prepared for you tomorrow,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Come here. You’ll be working on this side. I will go over a few drinks with you. If you can do a few of them yourself before the end of the day I’ll have you check out a few customers. Do you have a background in coffee?” I asked.
“No,” she said as she shook her head. “This is my first time, but don’t worry! I learn quick and have a good memory. Give me a week and I’ll be working on my own, I promise!”
“That’s fine. Not everyone who comes here has made coffee before. It’s just helpful if you have. I counted your till for you. I’ll show you how to count it at the end of the day and prep it for the swing shift,” I said.
“Till? Swing shift?” She asked. A look of confusion creased her brows. I suppressed a moan and took a deep breath.
Goddess, give me strength.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” I said. I motioned for her to come and she walked up to where I stood at the register. I turned toward the monitor and she watched me as I pointed at a button. “This is how you opened up the till,” I said. Pressing the tender button, the register popped open. She nodded.
“Seems simple enough,” she murmured.
“It honestly is, but if you have any questions, you can just ask. I don’t bite,” I said. She smiled and nodded.
“Every morning when you come in, you will sign in and open the register. Before you count the till, you will grab the paper underneath,” I said as I lifted it. “Next, you’ll count the money in each section and make sure it matches the mount on the paper. After that’s all done you’ll total it up to make sure the total in the till matches the total on the paper,” I said.
“Okay,” she said.
“Swing shift is the afternoon girls. We,” I said as I pointed back and forth between the two of us, “are morning shift. Graveyard shift is the name of the night shift,” I explained.
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