Everyone Has Their Hardships

“Hey, Perrie, would you take care of table number five please? I have my hands full!” my coworker Britney calls out from behind the counter. It’s Saturday and I’m helping out at the café. I was hoping to be free, so I could check out my curriculum in peace, and maybe start studying, but I had no such luck.

I was called in yesterday because they were short on staff. So, I willingly jumped in. I need money anyway. “Sure thing!” I respond, quickly heading towards the said table. I ask the guests what they want, then quickly head over to the counter to forward the order to Britney.

I’m just about to speak up, when she curses, quickly going to the sink and sticking her hand under running water. She burned herself with steam, while she was trying to foam the milk. “This is the worst day ever,” she lets me know, making me send her a pitiful look.

“Sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I know how badly that sucks,” I assure her. She turns her head towards me, letting out a long sigh. Next, she wets a cloth with that icy cold water and wraps it around her arm.

“Okay, kid. What’s the order?” she wants to know, completely ignoring my sympathetic input. I don’t let myself get offended over it. She means business. A fierce woman, Britney. Nothing can throw her off guard.

“Er … Two cappuccinos, one latte macchiato,” I tell her, making her give me a firm nod, before returning to the coffee machine. She then finishes the cappuccino she was previously making, placing it on a tray.

“Here. That’s for table one,” she lets me know. I don’t say anything, I just nod in response and get lost. She’s not in the mood today. I hope she didn’t burn her arm too badly, though. I can’t really work on my own, if she has to leave.

There’s one more student, working in the café today besides the two of us. Jade is capable, she’s been working here for a year, I think. It’s not her that I’m unsure of, it’s me. Working here still terrifies me a little. What if I have to cater for all those tables by myself? I’m barely handling half the café on my own.

As I get back to Britney, I jump behind the counter, grabbing a soda from the fridge. I pop it open and pour it in a glass, putting it on the tray just as she finishes making that latte macchiato. In that moment, Jade joins us.

“One americano, one cappuccino, a double espresso and two latte macchiatos,” she lets her coworker know. Britney doesn’t whine, she simply fixes the cloth around her arm and gets back to work. As I’m walking away from the counter, I can hear Jade, asking her: “What the hell did you do to yourself?”

By closing time, I’m practically dying. My lunch was a sandwich, but I was eating it through the whole day. I didn’t even have the time to go pee more than once, that’s how crowded it was. And I still haven’t finished that sandwich, by the way.

I’m eating it now, while I’m cleaning the tables after the last guests, grateful that we’re closing so soon. It’s a good thing I’m not working in a bar. If I was, I’d just be starting at this hour. I’m toast. I’m not sure I’ll be doing any work for college today.

As I’m leaving the café, saying goodbye to my coworkers as they’re locking up behind us, I’m surprised as I’m met with a familiar silhouette, waiting for me by the corner. Holding a paper bag that looks like it came from the bakery.

I can feel my face lighting up from excitement and relief, quickening my step so I can greet my boyfriend properly. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him in a little more passionate way than I would usually dare to in public.

He chuckles against my lips and surprisingly, he’s the first one to pull away. “Hey there. Someone missed me,” he remarks in an amused tone. “I thought you didn’t like that much PDA,” he then adds, smiling at me.

I can feel myself blushing out of an unknown reason. Yeah, he just has this kind of effect on me. “Hey. Well, I did miss you … And it was a long day,” I tell him in response, before averting my gaze to the paper bag in his hands. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, nothing. Just my dinner,” he lets me know. My face falls and I feel really bummed. I thought the food was for me. He chuckles at my reaction. “Kidding. I got you some donuts, because I figured you’d be starving,” he adds quickly.

Finally, there’s a smile creeping itself on my face again. He shakes his head at me as I snatch the bag from his hands and start munching on the sugar and fat-filled goodness. I really couldn’t care less how many calories this has. I’ve barely eaten the whole day.

“This is just a snack, by the way. We have real food at home,” he lets me know as we start heading towards our apartment. I look at him with wide eyes.

“You cooked?” I ask him. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, or shocked, or like I can’t believe that he’s able to prepare food on his own. I just didn’t expect this. That’s all. He tilts his head at me like he’s slightly offended. Ah. Just as I thought.

“Why are you saying it like you’re not sure if it’s going to be edible?” he wonders, making me gasp in protest. I quickly swallow the remains of the donut that was still rolling around my mouth and quickly defend myself.

“I’m not! I’m just surprised that you went out of your way like that. That’s all,” I mumble, a little embarrassed by the way that came out. He sighs, soon starting to nod his head at me.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry. I just missed having you around me, that’s all,” he murmurs. As he looks at me again, he asks: “You’re not working tomorrow, are you?” I shake my head in response. Luckily, no.

“The café is closed on Sundays,” I let him know. He nods, putting a smile on his face once again. Good. I guess we’re both a little strained today. It doesn’t matter, we’ll spend tomorrow together and it will all be just fine.

If only I wasn’t so sure of myself. We start the next day with an argument. About socks. I don’t sleep well during the night and as I get out of bed, I can barely drag myself out of it. So, when I step on something that almost makes me fall and break my skull into half, I lose it. Especially as I realize it’s Hunter’s socks.

Okay, we’re not exactly screaming at each other, but it’s not your normal, everyday kind of conversation either. “Hunter, I already asked you to stop leaving socks, lying around like this. You could be calling the ambulance right now, if I didn’t catch myself!” I tell him.

“You should be watching where you’re going! How am I supposed to know you’re going to step right on them? I wasn’t exactly looking where I was throwing them last night,” he protests, clearly determined to defend himself.

“You could’ve put them away after we went to the shower then,” I retort sharply, only realizing that I’m causing drama over minor things as the words already leave my mouth. I shut myself up, but my boyfriend doesn’t say anything else either. He simply takes his phone and turns into the corner, not saying another word.

I’m too embarrassed at the tone I just used to say anything. Besides, it’s not like I’m the one who throws my socks around like confetti! Why should I be feeling guilty about it?

We finally start talking to each other as we’re getting breakfast. But it feels mostly forced. There’s no trace of our usual dynamic, the laughter in the air or the light teasing as we talk to each other.

It stays like this until lunch. Until I finally decide to take the first step. Yeah, he left those socks there, but I really didn’t have to snap at him as soon as he opened his eyes. That was wrong. And I’m regretting it so much right now.

He’s going through some papers for the lab, while I’m cooking us lunch. As I realize he’s turning the leaves a little more loudly than he usually does, I sigh. We finally have our dining table and chairs, but they’re not exactly helping the situation right now.

I sit down opposite him. He doesn’t even lift his gaze. “Hunter,” I call him, making him sigh. He puts the papers down and leans back into the chair, facing me. “I’m sorry for being so harsh with you in the morning. It was a stupid fight and I shouldn’t have started it,” I apologize.

He stares at me in complete silence for a few long moments. I already think he’s going to ignore me. Simply return to his papers and let me feel sorry for myself in complete silence. But that’s not Hunter. He’d never hurt me like that.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Okay, I … Maybe I should’ve put those socks away. I’m sorry, too,” he lets me know. I nod in response, waiting for him to say anything else. As he doesn’t, I can’t help but open my mouth. I can’t stand the silence in a moment, as tense as this one.

“Are we … Are we good?” I ask, my voice trembling in a traitorous way. I can’t help it. I’d hate myself forever, if I ruined things between us over some stupid socks. He takes a deep breath, then pushes himself away from the table, patting his leg.

Once I finally get the message, I get up only to walk over to him and sit down on his lap. He puts his arms around me and fixes a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re always good, baby,” he lets me know.