Ava
Everyone knows that the best place to go for coffee in Jackson Harbor is also the best place to satisfy your sweet tooth. Ooh La La! is a coffee shop and confectionary just a block down from Jackson Brews, and also the place Ellie and I became best friends. Two years ago, after she and Colton started dating, she insisted we meet for coffee. At the time, I was in the early stages of my divorce, and I quickly discovered that I needed a girlfriend I could share my heartache with—it didn’t feel right dumping everything on Jake. It turned out Ellie was a great listener, and our friendship blossomed.
The offerings here are so delicious that I have to restrict my visits to once a week. Not only would daily gourmet coffee and a pastry blow my waistline, I simply don’t have room in my budget for such habits, but I figure I can make an exception for my birthday.
“Happy birthday,” Star calls from behind the counter. She owns this place and is responsible for the delicious offerings behind the glass. From handmade chocolates to melt-in-your-mouth croissants to the perfect cup of coffee, Star knows how to make the good stuff. “Did you have fun last night?”
I nod. “Maybe a little too much fun.” I rub my forehead. My headache’s mostly gone now, but the reminder that I overindulged still lingers in the background.
“Nothing a little caffeine and sugar can’t cure.” Star grins, tucking a lock of her curly red hair behind her ear.
Ellie walks up to the glass case and scans the contents. “What kind of cupcakes do you have today? My birthday girl needs a treat.”
Star puts her finger to her lips. “Not much up here but the double-chocolate fudge.”
Ellie gasps. “How dare you speak of anything double-chocolate as not much.”
“It’s not special enough,” Star says. “I’m working on samples for a bride who’s coming in tomorrow, so I might have some options back there. Lance, get their drinks while I’m gone. It’s on the house for Ava’s birthday.”
The lanky teenager nods glumly, as if she just informed him that our drinks were coming out of his paycheck. That’s Lance, though. I know him from my drama club, and he’s one of those kids who takes the Eeyore approach to life—always looking for the gray, cloudy lining to any situation.
“What do you want to drink?” Ellie asks. “I think we should get something really indulgent. Like something with full-fat milk and sugary syrup.”
“What do you recommend, Lance?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t like coffee.”
Ellie rolls her eyes. “How about two of the turtle sundae lattes?”
Lance nods. “Happy birthday, Miss McKinley,” he says, then turns to make our drinks.
Ellie and I flash a grin at each other. Lance might not mean to, but he makes us giggle.
“Let’s sit over there,” Ellie says, pointing to a booth on the other side of the café.
I head in that direction but stop when I see Myla Quincy, one of the other English teachers from my school.
“Go on,” I tell Ellie. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Myla’s sitting in front of a stack of papers, a large, steaming cup of black coffee at her side. “Beautiful day for grading, huh?” I say, because grading is the plight of every English teacher’s life.
She looks up from the paper and blinks at me. Myla is the coach of our cheer team and is usually a walking cheerleader stereotype—peppy and full of energy. Today, she looks exhausted. “Gotta enjoy it while it lasts, am I right?”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just nervous ever since I heard about the layoffs this morning. I have this ache in my gut that won’t go away.”
“What layoffs?”
She bites her bottom lip and studies me. “Didn’t you hear? The Windsor Prep board voted on a new budget. They’re going to get rid of the middle school program and lay off a quarter of the faculty.”
Suddenly, I have no appetite for cupcakes and coffee. In fact, my stomach was in better shape with a fresh hangover than it is trying to digest this news. “Are you sure?”
“I guess the actual number is more rumor than official at this point, but the layoffs are coming.” She rubs her eyes, and I realize she doesn’t look tired. She looks like she’s been crying. “I’m a wreck. I just bought a house.”
I don’t blame her for being worried. She’s the newest teacher in the English department and teaches primarily the middle school students, meaning she’ll probably be the first to go. “I’m sorry, Myla.” I reach out and squeeze her wrist. “I know it’s hard, but try not to worry until we know more, okay?”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she nods. “I know. Don’t borrow trouble, right?”