1
Zara
Steam rose through a subway grate and the wet pavement made my heels extra slippery. Taxis were sparse on the roads this early. Garbage men loaded up the dumpsters in the alley between not-yet-open sandwich shops and my glowing beacon of a destination.
My scavenged coffee cards were tucked in my pocket, each with a single coffee cup-shaped hole punched out. Other coffee drinkers’ garbage was my cherished treat. Why did people throw away their punch cards for a free coffee? Because they hadn’t survived on ramen and discount green beans for months at a time. The baristas didn’t bat an eye anymore when I showed up with my nine separate cards to claim my free coffee.
Coffee and a chocolate croissant. Small pleasures in life to keep the slough from drowning me.
The two reports due on Bill’s desk by eight am only needed a few final touches and a spell check I could run while I sipped my warm, chocolatey drink. Nothing went wrong on Coffee Day. The universe looked down on me with my size-too-small shoes, threadbare blazer, and pilfered coffee, and waved its hands to give me a small window of perfection.
Only, today my happy day wasn’t starting out all that promising. The usually non-existent line was nearly to the door when I stepped inside. Why where there so many people here this early? I yawned, covering my mouth with my arm and whacking the suited man in front of me with my bag.
He glared at me with bleary eyes.
I cringed. “Sorry.” My mumbled word was lost to his grumbling.
We inched forward. That comfortable cushion I’d thought I had ticked away. I shifted from foot to foot, craning my neck to see what was going on—couldn’t they call in whole office orders ahead of time to keep from overtaxing the baristas at the beginning of the morning rush? Checking my emails on my phone, I answered a few to keep from eating up time once I was at my desk.
I’d left last night’s company event less than five hours ago, but the deluge from work had begun. How was my inbox already a horror show? Ugh, and was everyone in front of me ordering coffee for a construction crew? I checked the time. It was cutting it close. Bill would freak if the report wasn’t on his desk before he got in.
Emails from florists, caterers, and linens providers clogged my inbox with questions I was copied on. Questions I was supposed to sit back and watch as they were handled by a pro, but after two years, I knew the drill. Nothing would get done and I’d get blamed if I didn’t respond.
Someone cleared their throat and I hopped forward into the three-person-sized space in front of me.
“Sorry,” I said over my shoulder to the disgruntled man with his arms crossed over his chest.
My phone rang in my purse. The only ringer I hadn’t set to silent in my contacts blared in the coffee shop filled with sleepy-eyed business drones like myself. More throat clearing and narrowed gazes. One look at the screen and I didn’t care what anyone here thought, I wasn’t missing this call.
“You’re up early.” It was barely six am there. Fourteen-year-olds aren’t known for waking up at the crack of dawn.
“Hey, Z! Awesome, did you see the pics I sent from my trip last week?”
“I did. It looks like you’re having loads of fun.”
“It’s the best. I’m sneaking this call in before homeroom. I got an email from the financial aid office. They’re sending a new tuition package for next semester this morning. They mentioned it would be a little more than last semester. That’ll be okay, right?”
While those words would normally fill me with dread, I’d been tucking away every bit I could to make the payment. I’d thought in a few months I could upgrade to a non-pilfered cup of coffee and not filling my refrigerator with leftovers from our events, but I could hang on a bit longer. The lease on my apartment ended in a couple months, and I could downgrade to something smaller. Maybe a studio. Or I could look for roommates again.
“I got my first test back for AP Chemistry.”
He’d gotten emotional when he’d started boarding school two years ago in seventh grade, worried he couldn’t get through the intensive work like the other kids, but by now I knew the hedging tone he took when he’d knocked it out of the park.
I sucked my breath through my teeth. “That bad, huh? Did you barely pass? Scrape by with a 65, maybe a 66?” I put on my understanding big sister voice.
“A 66?!” His voice pitched up an octave and cracked. Ahh puberty, keeping little brothers adorable into their early teens. “I got a 96, Z! The highest grade in the class.”
“And you doubted yourself.”
I covered the phone and handed over my cards. The barista chuckled and shook his head without me needing to say anything. It was a dance we’d done before.
My drink and croissant order in, I was dancing on the inside in anticipation of warm layers of flaky dough wrapped around yummy chocolate.
“And you told me to take a few deep breaths and ask my teacher for some extra help. They’re all so nice here. We went over everything every day after school for like two hours. They didn’t try to kick me out or anything. And I talked to our dorm dad and he said I can stay over winter break this year.”
His last visit back to our parents’ house a couple hours outside of Chicago had been a disaster. My car had died a few months before, so I couldn’t make the drive there to be the buffer for him. Even the bus and train tickets would’ve meant making the choice between my meager groceries and straight ramen, plus missing out on extra event work, which paid enough overtime to pay for Tyler’s spring break class trip. Had I known, I’d have chosen six months of ramen. It had taken Tyler nearly a month to shake off the cloak of sadness weighing him down.
“My teacher also said by the time I graduate high school, I’ll have enough Advanced Placement credits to be a college junior. I could get my bachelor’s degree and a masters in the time it takes most people to graduate from college.”
“Sarah.” A droning, mildly interested voice broke through my conversation.
I lifted my finger and grabbed my drink and warm chocolate croissant off the counter. Even when I spelled my name, they never got it right, so I’d given up trying. I added three sugars and took a long whiff, closing my eyes and savoring every second with this glorious cup of coffee—still too hot to sip, dammit—before popping the lid back on.
“If there’s anyone who could do it, it’s you.” When I’d told him to apply for the boarding school located two hours from home, I hadn’t thought he would. But being away at college, I’d needed to throw him that lifeline for when things went to shit at home. Mom and Dad, when they weren’t buried at the bottom of a bottle, were pros at losing whatever money we had for things like food and keeping the lights on. They couldn’t stop gambling—whether it was scratch cards or bingo nights. Before I left for college, I’d tried to protect my little brother as much as I could, but I needed to keep my head above water. And I’d done it by coming to Philly for college.
Growing up, I’d thought about running away from home more times than I could count, but I hadn’t wanted to leave Tyler behind. My going away to college had hit him hard.
It hit me harder.
There had been so many sleepless nights staying up with him on the phone to help him through homework. Dates or evenings with friends skipped to talk Tyler through making dinner. Watching cartoons together as his states-away babysitter while everyone else was in the library studying or working on class projects.