The Last Piece

The line at Café Olé was longer than usual that Tuesday morning. Cloud was maybe the eighth person from the front of the line, and she noticed it wasn't moving very quickly.

They're probably training a new employee, she guessed. Forget applying here, then.

The teen in front of her let his two friends join him in line. She felt a momentary rise of anger, but decided to let it go. It's not like I've got anywhere I need to be. And there are worse things that could happen than getting butted in line.

"Excuse me," said a clear voice behind her. Cloud turned to look, but the young woman speaking was looking at the three teens in front of them both.

"Ya?" One of them said, a look of challenge on his face.

"You just let your friends cut the line. It's ok with me; I'm not in a particular hurry. But maybe you should ask everyone else standing behind you how they feel about it."

A bespectacled woman with curly white hair nodded approval, her lips pressed into a tight line. The two newcomers rolled their eyes, gave their orders to their friend, then flounced off to save a table.

"Thanks for speaking up, dear," said the older woman.

Cloud also smiled her admiration. Most people aren't brave enough so say anything. Or they just don't care. It's easier to stay quiet, she thought.

The speaker looked to be about Cloud's age, and she was wearing a name tag that read "Rosie." Cloud guessed that she worked at the bank across the street, and was maybe taking her turn to get coffees for her co-workers.

She had lovely warm brown eyes, and her smooth skin was the colour of dark chocolate. She was wearing a grey sweater that looked really soft, and Cloud was drawn to it (or to Rosie; she couldn't tell). She felt the sudden urge to reach out and feel the sweater, but caught herself, and turned around to face the front counter instead.

The line had progressed a little bit, but Cloud noticed the freckle-faced trainee had called his manager over, and was learning how to delete an accidental order from the bill. The poor guy had sweat wetting his orange hair at the temples.

Cloud exhaled. It was hard to not feel compassion for Freckles on what was evidently his first day on the job. But still, she was mildly impatient. If their chocolate cake wasn't so damn good, I'd say forget it, she thought.

But I so need a little indulgence today.

Her thoughts wandered to where they so often had since yesterday afternoon—a replay of her last moments of employment at Freshbees, a new smoothie joint just off campus. She'd been scooping frozen fruit into a cup when from behind, her boss had slipped his hand between her legs very deliberately—there was no feigning innocence that time. On impulse she had turned and flung the makings of a Banana Strawberry Supreme into his attractive face. Taking off her apron, she had thrown that hard at him too, and he cursed at her. Then she'd grabbed her bag and left before he'd had time to fully recover.

The customer she'd been making the smoothie for looked impressed, and said, "Girl, that smoothie was worth every penny."

Cloud smiled at the echo of those words in her mind, and then shuddered remembering her employer's hand on her body that way. Even though it had only lasted a moment, the feeling of his warm, moving fingers was burned into her body-memory. She had showered several times since the incident, but still felt disgusting.

Cloud still hadn't told anybody; she hadn't thought she needed to. But now she wondered if she should, just to diffuse the intensity. She hadn't realized she might keep reliving it like this, or feel so dirty. She had only just arrived to Windsor, and still hadn't made any close friends, and she couldn't think of who to call to confide in. Certainly not her mom, who was already worried enough about Cloud moving out on her own for the first time.

"Excuse me," the woman behind her—Rosie—said, laying a gentle hand on her arm. Cloud flinched at the unexpected touch, and shot a wide-eyed look over her shoulder.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," Rosie said, but Cloud's face had already softened.

"Um, that's okay. I didn't mean to react like that. I'm a little jumpy today," she said a bit shakily.

"No worries. I just wondered if you want to borrow my sweater."

Cloud looked puzzled, and felt a little flush come into her face. Was Rosie telepathic? Or did she notice me looking at her gorgeous sweater before?

Rosie leaned closer so as not to be overheard and added, "to tie around your waist."

As comprehension dawned, Cloud's eye's widened again, this time in embarrassed horror. Rather than twisting around to look, she used one hand to cover her backside, and put the other into her bag to fish around.

"Oh man! Thanks for telling me. I have my own shirt somewhere in here, but thanks for the offer."

Cloud tied a plaid button-down around her waist. She felt on the brink of tears, moved by the kindness of a stranger. She also recognized she was still on edge from yesterday's encounter, and the contrast between the two experiences was almost more than she could bear.

She thought about leaving the line, but saw that another cash register had been opened up, and things were now moving faster.

"It's about time," she heard the lady with the white hair murmur behind her.

Then Cloud was next in line, and she saw with gratitude that there was still one piece of chocolate cake left. It was three-layered, with a generous amount of butter cream icing and whipped cream on top. The recipe was very similar to the one her mom made every year on Cloud's birthday, and thinking about that made her heart squeeze with longing. I must be homesick, she admitted. Still, her mouth watered in anticipation of the first delicious bite.

Finally, Cloud was beckoned over to the counter on the left. In her periphery, she saw Rosie approach the register on the other side.

"Can I take your order?" The freckled boy asked her.

"A piece of chocolate cake," she heard herself say in unison with another voice—Rosie's.

They looked at each other and smiled.

"You take it honey," Rosie said, "Seems like you could use something sweet today."

On an inspired whim, she replied, "I'm Cloud. How about we share?"