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It was Greta Linden's first day at her new job at the café, and the strong scent of coffee was already driving her mad. She didn't even like coffee, save for the occasional chocolatey iced drink this shop was known for. It was silly, and she knew it, but the only reason she had expressed interest in the job - aside from needing the money for college - was because the uniform was green.
It wasn't exactly her favorite shade, as she preferred lighter options, but she still felt more comfortable in it than she would in the cold blue of the department store, or the garish orange of the hardware store. Not that those jobs were bad in themselves - she felt she could take on either of them as long as she was in the right color. This café just happened to be the only one that gave her that option.
So far it had been a very slow day, and she found herself wiping down the already-clean counters to keep herself occupied. When she heard the bell on the door jingle for the first time in what felt like hours, her head jolted up to look at the new customer.
It was a boy about her age, with light brown hair that fell unevenly to his shoulders. His overall look was equally disheveled, with papers sticking out of his bag, and his navy blue jumper looking quite oversized on his small frame.
Greta wasn't sure she was interested in boys, but if she was, this was exactly the type that intrigued her. She shook any such thoughts from her head and smiled in a way that, for the first time today, didn't feel fake.
"Hello, what can I get you?" she asked, cringing at her too-high customer service voice.
The boy took a step forward, and something about the way he moved told Greta he was nervous. It looked as if he had forgotten his cue in a play and was hurrying to catch up.
"There's no rush," she told him, to which he suddenly turned and bolted out the door.
That was odd. If she hadn't been watching him the whole time, she might have thought he'd come in just to steal something. Perhaps there was something he'd forgotten about, or, with her luck, she'd scared him off.
Twenty-eight hours later, she was nearing the end of that day's shift, and had given up hope that the boy might come back. She must have spooked him badly if he didn't.
But he did - not a minute after her thoughts wandered back to him, there he was in front of her. He looked even more nervous than yesterday, with his shaking hands gripping the strap of his bag so hard his knuckles were white. She was just about to greet him, but he spoke first.
"Could- Could I g-get- get a m... medium tea?"
So that's what he'd been so nervous about - unless the stutter was an effect of his fear and not the cause.
"What kind?" she asked, smiling, but hoping not to seem patronizing. She'd had enough of that directed at herself.
Glancing up at the menu above her head, he murmured, "Um, c-chamomile? With n-n-nothing else in it?"
Just as she was about to ask how he was paying, he handed over the exact amount in change.
"Perfect. And what's your name?" she asked.
He became very pale suddenly, and she hurried to explain.
"So I can call you when it's ready."
"Oh," he said, loosening up a bit, then murmured something she couldn't quite make out.
Not wanting to embarrass him by asking him to speak up, she instead said, "How do you spell that?"
"Actually, j-just Quin is- is- is fine," he said, glancing around, seeming to hope nobody was looking.
Greta didn't know what that could be short for, but she smiled and said, "I'll call you."
"Wh- What?" he asked, before he seemed to remember what she meant and hurried to a nearby seat.
It didn't take long to make tea, she just had to get some boiled water and a teabag. As she did, she heard the door open again, but the footsteps weren't approaching her counter. When she turned to look, she saw a few boys laughing as they sat at the small table Quin had chosen. She didn't think they had even looked at her.
"What're you reading?" one of them said, snatching the book from his hands. Quin kept his mouth shut, and Greta suspected the other boys were trying to provoke him into speaking just so they could make fun of him. Similar things had happened to her in the past, but it was easier to recognize when it was someone else.
She could try to kick them out, but they seemed the types to fight back against authority, and she was the only employee other than her boss. Last time she had tried to forbid a man from the property, he'd called her a bitch and followed her into the parking lot.
Her shift was nearly over. She left the tea on the counter and hurried into the back. Removing her apron and retrieving her jacket, she exited the back of the building and came around to the front door.
"Sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed as she entered, in the customer-service voice that sounded much more confident than she felt. She approached the table, and the aggressors looked at her in confusion.
"Who are you?" one of them asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back, taking a seat across from Quin, "I'm his study partner, if you must know."
"We're just his friends from school."
"Are you really?" she asked, turning to face Quin, to which he looked at her with wide eyes and shook his head slightly, "No? Leave him alone then."
They grumbled under their breath and shuffled off. She turned her focus back to Quin, and he looked at her with wide-eyed confusion.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
He nodded, looking like he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out.
"It's alright, you don't have to say anything."
"Thank you," he finally whispered, fidgeting with the strap on his bag.
"You're welcome. Would you mind if I sit with you?"
"You- You already are," he pointed out, "But n-no. I- I- I mean, w-why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do y-you want to- to- to—" He gave up with a sigh.
"My shift just ended, and those guys were bothering you," she explained, "And, well, you looked lonely."
"Yeah," he murmured, "My p-p-parents w-wanted me to- to come in alone."
"Oh, are they waiting for you?"
He turned red and looked down as he answered, "No, they- they wanted me to t-tr-try ordering s-something myself."
"I can see how that'd be difficult for you," she said with a nod. He glanced up at her hesitantly, as if he couldn't believe she wasn't making fun of him.
"It is," he said, loosening up a bit and twiddling his thumbs on the table, "I- I got lucky t-t-today, w-with you. Thank you."
"You're welcome. But surely I'm not the only one who didn't care?"
"No. But one of v-v-very few," he said, shaking his head, "It- It's not all bullying, y-you know? Some p-p-people t-treat me differently, as- as if I'm stupid, or- or they're afraid I- I'll think they think I'm stupid."
Greta laughed, "I know that feeling."
"Y-You do?"
She shut her mouth, not realizing the implications of what she had said.
"You d-don't have to t-t-talk about it," Quin told her quickly, "I- I think I've talked t-too much." He gave a high, nervous laugh.
"Thanks," she said, sighing in relief.
"Um, can- can I ask...?"
"What?" she said with a raised eyebrow.
Smiling in a twitchy sort of way, he asked, "Did you f-forget the t-tea I ordered?"