Page 14

The familiar hot, dry air of May settles around me like thick pancake batter. I pull out my phone, frowning at my reflection. I try to get my wispy bangs to stay flat and fail. I’m starting to second-guess my outfit—a V-necked top, tight jeans, and ankle boots—but I can’t change now.

“You look great,” Jenn says with a smile, parking the car on the corner of Main Street.

I can see the coffeeshop from here, and suddenly all my nerves rush into my throat. “Thanks for driving me.”

“No problem.” She winks at me. “Just text me when you’re done; I’ll be at the thrift store.”

Jenn gives me an encouraging thumbs-up before starting to browse through the clothes on the sidewalk racks.

I stride across the street, channeling confidence and cool.

Wait.

Am I in the right place?

The coffee cup sign isn’t bright and colorful but faded and cracked. It looks like it’s aged twenty years in a few days.

The door is open, people heft boxes in and out, and a short woman in a starched apron holding a clipboard directs orders.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly.

“Job applications are on the website,” she says automatically.

“Sorry, I’m not—”

“Opening day is next week.”

I bite my lip, looking around the place. All the modern furniture they’re bringing inside is totally different from the cozy vibe I got with all the mismatched armchairs. Maybe it’s a remodel? “I’m actually looking for one of your employees? Kat?”

The woman arches her eyebrow at me. “Kathy?”

“Yeah?” Kat could be short for Kathy, maybe? I could have misheard.

“Not here today. Come back when the store is open next week.”

“But—”

The woman shoos me out, barking more orders at people carrying in espresso machines.

Wow. Kat’s manager is really short-tempered.

I watch through the glass for a while and finally decide to lean casually against the wall.

Maybe she wasn’t working today with the remodeling stuff but will show up for our date.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. Across the street, Jennifer gives me a puzzled look.

_x_Jen_x_: What’s going on?

Brendaroni: she’s not here yet. not working today i guess

_x_Jen_x_: it’s 4:12!!

Brendaroni: i know. she said she’d be here.

I fiddle with my phone, looking through my schedule and scowling at it. Okay, finish the essay for AP US History tonight, and also do the reading… wait, what’s the reading? I can’t concentrate at all—where is she?

Was it a fake number after all?

I try to distract myself, looking at the dusty wares in the shop window next door.

Jenn gives me a quizzical look as she pretends to browse.

I’m sure if I had gone into the coffeeshop as expected she would have just continued shopping, but knowing she’s there makes me feel a little less weird lingering here.

Maybe I should go to the thrift store, too.

I could easily come back to the shop if I see Kat…

Behind Jenn, a thin reedy man way too dressed up for Main Street, San Pablo looks up from the clothing racks of half-priced sundresses.

He’s wearing some kind of fancy suit, complete with a waistcoat and a matching bow tie.

His eyes meet mine in a brief moment of uncomfortable eye contact.

I immediately look down at my phone. When I look up, he’s still there, skittish and strange, dressed like an extra from a twenties speakeasy movie.

He glances at me, and then at the bustling workers carrying equipment into the coffeeshop behind me, his face an intense expression of study.

A prickling sense of unease runs down my spine, a familiar in-game suspicion, that sense of walking through a quiet forest, knowing there are enemies lying in wait, just about to attack.

Jenn gives him a dirty look as she crosses the street to join me, and the man disappears back inside the store. He continues watching us with a calculated stare from the window. What a weirdo.

“It’s been thirty minutes,” Jennifer says, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. Want me to take you home?”

“But—” Kat had seemed so sure. Disappointment swells up inside me.

“You’re still here?” The manager woman opens the doorway to look at me.

“I told you, Kathy isn’t working today. I don’t even know what’s going on in that girl’s head if she tells all her little friends that they can get free coffee, but I’ll have you know that I’ll be watching and there are no freebies. ”

Jenn looks at me. “I thought you said her name was Kat?”

“Yeah, but…” I glance at the woman. “Maybe we got mixed up? I’m looking for a Kat. A Chinese girl with waist-length hair?”

The woman looks confused. “Kathy is my daughter; I haven’t hired anyone else yet.”

My stomach sinks. “Okay.”

“Come on, let’s go.” Jenn guides me to her car. “Are you sure we’re in the right place? They don’t even have their machines set up.”

“But on Wednesday…” I glance back at the corner. I was so sure it was that same block.

Heat sizzles in the air. I look up and down the lonely block of shops.

There’s a reason why this section of Main Street is abandoned; ever since they opened that fancy new theater a few blocks away, most businesses have moved over there.

On the street there are a few people, but there’s no Kat walking my way, nothing but the parched dirt in the divider of the forlorn, cracked sidewalk.