Atlantis Academy: The First Element

CHAPTER THREE

I'm not allowed to blatantly cut any of these guys off, though. Boss's rules. They all keep an open tab with us, and they bring in a ton of money each week. But there's something extra rolling off of Angry Al in waves tonight, a really "low" kind of energy. The same kind of vibe my mom used to give off most nights. And that means trouble.

I once made the mistake of asking her what was wrong.

Nothing's wrong with me! You're the one who's screwed up. You're pathetic. Goddamn overactive imagination. Wipe that look off your face. Are you sad? What the hell do you have to be sad about? I'm the one stuck raising you, working my ass off, and for what? You ungrateful...

Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe she felt nothing.

"Hello? What's wrong with ya, girl? Ya deaf? Dumb? Blind? More beer!" Ralph leans across the bar, bringing his well-weathered face and graying whiskers way too close. He's the oldest guy in the bunch, and somehow the rudest, even when compared with Boob-lovin' Bob.

I snatch the glass from his hand and jump back. A half hour past sunset, and I'm already zoning out. "Sorry."

"Ya better be sorry. And when's the damn jukebox gettin' fixed? We sure spend enough of our hard-earned cash here. Ya shoulda fixed it by now."

Two of his friends nod in agreement.

I sigh and treat the question as rhetorical, since he asks every time he's here.

The bell on the door rings. A new party of three.

My brain is a jumbled list of everything I have to do.

Focus, Lyric!

Just one more hour, and I'll take my medication. I chug down another mug of coffee and get moving. As soon as I'm done taking the next orders, I hand them to Mateo, then grab a rag and pretend to scrub the counter.

I need to collect myself, or I'm gonna mess something up. I can feel my panic rising. My heart's beating too fast, and my brain's like a stormy ocean covered in fog.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and picture myself standing in a transparent bubble. Angry Al, Boob-lovin' Bob, Rude Ralph... I'm not gonna let anyone get to me tonight.

The bubble saves me, and my mind clears a bit.

Mateo's working at a fast clip, and he sets out two more plates of food. I pick them up and head around the counter with them.

Boob-lovin' Bob reaches out a hand as I brush by. "Come talk to me, sweetheart." He slurs his words, and his fingers make contact with my lower back. "You eighteen yet?"

Ahh!

My safe, invisible bubble bursts.

I shudder and hurry away with the food I'm carrying. It's two plates of deep-fried cod that should be fresh this close to the ocean. But they're actually from our freezer, farm-raised, and pre-breaded.

"Ooh, this looks delicious!" the wife exclaims. "Honey, they have the best fish here."

Her husband grunts something in reply, but neither of them acknowledges my existence.

"Just let me know if you need anything else," I say brightly.

No hint that either of them heard me. Unless you count the irritation on the wife's face because I'm still standing there.

I take that as a sign to get lost.

Rude Ralph drunkenly slams his glass onto the counter. "More!"