I was rudely awakened just after sunrise by my upstairs neighbors having a houseparty, handing everyone roller skates, and everyone stomping around in some kind of tap dance formula.  At least, that’s what it sounded like.  I knew from experience that (1) they wouldn’t be quiet any more after this started and (2) it was useless to complain to the apartment managers, they would do absolutely nothing.  So I guessed that meant it was time to get up.

     Grumbling to myself, I went ahead and got ready for the day, taking a shower in the tiny stream of cold water that my shower reluctantly offered before eating some noodles for breakfast.  I couldn’t help but remember the buttery quiche Ren had shared with me yesterday and wished I knew how to make one.  And could afford the ingredients.

     Oh, right, Ren.  We hadn’t talked about meeting today, so I wasn’t sure what that meant.  Plus since I was up now, I was going to just go ahead to the library, but I hated the idea of him arriving to wait for me and me never showing up.  Hopefully he’d just come up and knock if I didn’t appear and he’d realize I was out already?  Or should I just wait for him to show up?  What if he didn’t show up?  This was the one time a cell phone would be useful, so I could arrange plans with Ren.  But I didn’t have one, couldn’t afford one even if it would be helpful, plus whenever this thing ended I wouldn’t need one again, so it was pointless to think things like that.

     Debating the whole way down the four flights of stairs, I couldn’t make up my mind on what to do until I got outside and found the problem had resolved itself.

     Ren was already outside in the same spot as yesterday, leaning against the wall and looking at something on his phone.  He glanced up as I came out, then seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

     “Oh!  Good morning, I didn’t think you’d be out this early.”

     I drifted closer, daring to take a quick look at his face, but he didn’t appear to be tired.  “Do you not sleep?”

     He laughed.  Actually threw back his head and laughed.  It was a nice sound, it sent happy shivers down my spine, and I found myself hoping he’d do that more often.  “Yeah, I do, but we only need to sleep like two hours a night, even less if we’ve been hanging out in the sun.  Fae regenerate most of our energy just by sunlight, honestly.  Some fae who live in particularly sunny climates never sleep at all.  Those in darker climates may sleep more, maybe up to four hours a night, but we never sleep that much.  Humans have it tough that way.”

     He reached out and briefly ran his fingers through my hair, tousling the dark brown locks with something of an affectionate look on his face, although that was probably a misinterpretation on my part since he couldn’t possibly be fond of me, not this quickly – maybe not at all, given that even my own mom never liked me.  “I hope you got enough sleep, though.  How was class last night?”

     It was so easy, falling into step with him, talking and listening the entire way to the library.  Somehow conversation just flowed, and for once I didn’t feel like I had to worry as much about watching every word that came out of my mouth.  Ren wouldn’t get mad if I slipped up and said something stupid.  He just seemed happy to be with me.

     It was a strange feeling, but I was quickly deciding it was a feeling I liked.  Because being with Ren made me happy, too.

     I didn’t get much done on the job hunting front today, either, but I found I didn’t mind so much because of the reason why.  Ren came into the library with me this time, then spent most of the morning distracting me by bringing me random books that either he enjoyed and wanted me to read or he thought sounded funny and wanted to share.  I couldn’t focus on what I was doing because I kept finding my eyes drawn towards him as he enthusiastically browsed the stacks, searching for books to share with me.

     I didn’t end up taking any of the books he suggested home with me, because I preferred to just read books at the library and not worry about taking them home in case I lost them or forgot about them and ended up owing fines.  So Ren made me take a break at lunch and sit down and read some of the silly books for a break.  Well, only after he’d first dragged me outside and proceeded to distribute sandwiches he’d made that morning for us to eat, refusing to listen to my stuttered protests and not happy until I’d eaten everything he assigned to me, which consisted of two sandwiches along with some veggie sticks and a bottle of juice.  I ended up getting caught up in one of the other books he’d shown me, one of his favorites, and found myself reading it until the library was closing and they kicked us out.

     And I still didn’t mind how unproductive I’d been.  It was hard to, when the day had been enjoyable, and Ren seemed happy, which made me happy.  I wasn’t used to being happy.  But I was definitely going to enjoy this while it lasted.

     Our feet automatically slowed when we neared my apartment building, and Ren sighed reluctantly.  “I go back to school tomorrow so I won’t be able to come over in the morning again.  I normally finish in the late afternoon but since I’ve been gone a week, I might have a lot of stuff to catch up on, so I’m not sure if I’ll be free tomorrow.”

     I nodded, trying to squelch my disappointment and hoping it didn’t show on my face.  “Good luck with your classes.”  Now what?  This was the first awkward moment of the day.  “Um, I guess I need to head inside?  I, uh, will see you later?”

     “Yeah.”  He looked a little wistful.  “Good night, Riven.”

     “Good night, Ren.”  I could feel his eyes on me as I went inside and forced myself not to look back.

     Why was it already so hard to just walk away from him?  We’d only known each other for a few days and been spending time as friends for even fewer.  But when I was with him, it was like everything just – just made sense.  Like this was the happiest place in the world that existed just for me.  Maybe I felt that way just because I wasn’t used to friendships anymore, but I wasn’t so sure about that.  I’d had some friends back in elementary school, I vaguely recalled, and that one friend when I was 15.  Regardless of how that ended, I did remember that hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with Ren.  It wasn’t even in the same ballpark.  Or city.

     As I got back to my apartment, though, my worries started to return to me, weighing down heavily on my shoulders.  Tomorrow was my interview, so far the only one I’d gotten that was actually a possibility.  I wasn’t sure what to do if I got the job, since it didn’t pay as well as the café, so I’d definitely struggle with paying my bills, let alone saving for school.  But if I didn’t – or even if I did – was it okay to stay at the café?  Talking to Ren almost made me forget that I worked with Honey and she knew now.  Honey was nice, though, right?  She was kind of like Ren that way?  She’d been nice the two plus years I’d known her and even that night, she had been kind still.  So…would it be okay?  Even though my instincts were screaming to never see her again?

     I went to bed with no answers, spending most of the night tossing and turning as a result.  After the previous night of being woken up early, by morning I had large shadows under my eyes that definitely weren’t going to help me get a new job.

     I groaned to myself, but there was nothing to do about it.  I had to decide by the end of the day whether I was going to quit my job at the café or keep working there, and this interview would help with that decision.  Hopefully they wouldn’t care that I looked a bit like a frazzled raccoon who just discovered a family of bears wanted the trash it was sitting on.

     I got to the interview early, nervous and worried that I wouldn’t find the place and would get lost, but I had no troubles with that.  Completely predictable, however, I had trouble with the interview itself.

     We got to the end of the questions, which I’d actually thought I’d answered fairly well despite my stumbling over words at part, when the manager interviewing me gathered up all the interview sheets and set them in a folder.

     “I’ll be honest with you, you have good experience on paper, but you seem much less confident in person.  What do you do at your current job?  Do you deal with the customers?”

     I flinched a little.  “Not regularly.  I mostly handle behind-the-scenes work, like baking, making drinks, cleaning things.  But,” I quickly added, “I do work the register sometimes and I can deal with customers.”

     “I’m not doubting that you can,” his tone said otherwise, but I wasn’t going to call him out on it, “but we don’t have any positions like that here.  The cashiers prepare the coffee, we don’t have particular people designated for that, and the bookshop employees have to help customers find books and recommend books when asked.  I’m sorry, but we just don’t have what you’re looking for.  Good luck, though.”

     I shook his hand automatically and found my way outdoors, wishing I’d had the courage to argue with him and tell him that I could help customers.  I knew a lot about books, I’d be able to make recommendations and help people find things.  Just because I couldn’t look people in the face while I did so didn’t mean I couldn’t do the job just as well as their other employees.

     I closed my eyes, struggling to hold back the tears.  I wasn’t going to cry over this.  I wasn’t.  I knew I could do what they wanted, but people demanded I do so on their terms and didn’t understand that just because I was different didn’t mean I couldn’t do the same things.  It wasn’t fair.  But…it was normal.  This was what happened.  Because I wasn’t normal, I wasn’t allowed to do the same things as everyone else, no matter what my opinion was on the subject.

     I sighed, then slowly began heading back to my apartment.

     On the upside, I didn’t have to wonder about what to do if I got the job.  That part of my quandary was tossed out.  Now the only question was whether I dared go back to my job at the café despite Honey being there or whether I would quit even though I had no income lined up and would end up homeless absent a miracle?

     The answer, unfortunately, seemed clear.  One option was pretty much guaranteed to end in homelessness and not being able to go to my class.  The other option had a strong possibility of ending in physical violence and pain, but there was a chance that it would be okay.

     I had to go with the one that gave me a chance.  I had to keep working at the café.