The Accidental Assistant

AYANA. I drifted awake slowly, groggy and tangled in my worn, cotton sheets. The faint sunlight creeping through my faded curtains and shone on me but I didn’t open my eyes just yet. I stretched a hand across my bed, patting around in search of my phone as a wide yawn escaped. Somewhere, my beat-up old laptop took up a good portion of the mattress, precariously balanced on the edge. My fingers finally grazed my phone, and I cracked open one eye to squint at the cracked screen. The jagged, splintered lines across the glass made it hard to read, but I could just make out the time. “f**k!” I screamed, my mind snapping awake. It was already 8:34 a.m. I was so late for my shift at The Willow Nest, the cozy little cafe around the corner that prided itself on fresh-baked pastries and a morning staff that was… well, usually on time. That was because I'd gotten home late last night from my shift at some dingy bar, at around 11pm and had proceeded to stay up all night, job hunting. With a groan and a muttered string of curses to the universe, I sprang out of bed and darted to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush with an urgency that could've put race car pit crews to shame. I brushed my teeth in quick, frantic circles, pacing a bit as I mentally calculated how fast I could get ready. When was the last time I'd done laundry? Did I even have clean clothes? Spitting out toothpaste, I shuffled back to my room, threw open my broken closet, and yanked out my go-to sundress, a faded, flowery thing with a few too many memories tied to it. I tugged it over my head, paired it with my worn Air Force 1s, and scanned my tiny apartment for anything that looked remotely important. I spotted my CV and crammed it into my trusty tote bag, shoving aside some crumpled receipts, a half eaten energy bar and random pens already cluttering the bottom. I expertly pinned up my unruly brown hair using a claw clip I always relied on for this task. After a spray of deodorant and a generous mist of perfume that was supposed to have notes of spring but ended up smelling more like... Well... I couldn't quite put my finger on it. As I hurried to the door in a rush of urgency, the worn out paint on the door frame and the subtle scent of the neighbors morning meal seeping through the thin, threadbare walls hardly caught my attention. My stomach rumbled softly in protest. I pushed past it with resolve, determined not to waste another moment. With my keys in hand and my tote bag slung over my shoulder, I hurriedly left my worn out apartment with a fervent wish that the day would be kind to me despite the rough start. --- I pushed the doors of The Willow Nest and stumbled on the entry mat as I stumbled inside. Several patrons looked up, their eyebrows raised, hands frozen halfway to their coffee mugs. My hair was wild and unruly, slipping out of my claw clip as a curly strand flopped over my face while I glanced around, breathless. "Sorry! Morning!" I whispered to nobody in particular, but the glare of shocked customers seemed to make me feel anxious. Freya was behind the counter pouring out a cappuccino, and she gave me the well-known wide-eyed "What the heck?" expression over the rim of the steaming cup. I rushed over, sliding behind the counter with familiar practice. My tote bag fell to the ground with a soft thud. I reached for my apron but paused to hear the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps—each one seemed to radiate disapproval. "Well, just guess who decided to show up at last," Williams, my boss, came out from the back, his scowl deepening under his bushy brows. He was a plump, stout man with the kind of frown that was almost permanent and gave you an impression he has never smiled in his life. “Mr. Williams, I know I'm late—” I began, trying to slip my head through the apron strings. "Late? No way, Ayana. You've been late every day for the past two weeks!'' His arms were crossed over his chest, producing the most intimidating barrier that a cozy coffee shop could conjure up. I smiled weakly, hoping to keep my voice light. "I know, I’m really sorry! I promise it’s been a crazy month but I can make it up to you with maybe an extra shift this week or—" “No.” Williams interrupted me, his voice harsher than usual. "No more excuses, Ayana. I’m done with that. You’re outta here. Leave the apron and the name tag behind. Now." I blinked, mouthing words in stunned silence. "Wait, Mr. Williams, please, I need this job. I promise I'll be on time. Today was just... one of those mornings..." Williams stood his ground. "You’ve had ‘one of those mornings’ every day for two weeks. I gave you plenty of chances. Now get lost. We’re done here.” My shoulders sagged as I stared at my apron, gripping it as if that could somehow persuade him to reconsider. I looked at Freya, who offered me a delicate, empathetic smile—one that seemed to convey that she would've helped if possible. "Jerk," Freya whispered under her breath, although she quickly flashed a nervous grin at Williams afterward. With a deep, frustrated sigh, I unfastened my nametag, left it on the counter, and gave back the apron. I whispered a barely audible “Thanks for nothing” and slipped out, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. The brisk morning breeze struck my face as I stepped outside bringing me back to reality. I opened my eyes taking in my surroundings as if seeing them for the first time that day. A few people walked past sipping coffee and talking unaware that my world had just turned upside down. The Willow Nest's painted sign swayed behind me, its cheerful letters seeming to mock me. I dug into my tote bag and took out my resume looking at the wrinkled page. This job was supposed to be my fallback; I hadn't expected to need to search for work again so soon. My fingers traced the page as my mind raced through a list of nearby cafes, bookstores—any place that might accept a walk-in application on a Tuesday morning. At that moment, I heard laughter. A small girl with untidy pigtails bounded past, her feet barely touching the ground. I watched her curly pigtails and smiled. "I wish I could be that unaware." I mumbled with a small grin. The young girl hopped to the sidewalk's end, turning back to wave at someone out of my sight. My pulse raced—the child was too near the street for my liking. I stepped forward, trying to speak but before I could, the girl stumbled off the curb and into the street just as a large city bus sped around the corner, too close and too fast.