Olivia

Fridays are the worst days to work.

For multiple reasons. The first being that I have to work from right after school, about noon, all the way to closing. The second is that Nick doesn't work fridays. And the third, which is the worst, is that my mother is there all day. Which means constant nagging about my future, procedure, how I'm greeting our customers and debates about whether or not I need to make more fudge.

I walk in through the back. I'm barely one foot in the door when my mother comes hurtling into the backroom, points at me and says, "I need you up front now!" She runs back out.

I sigh. I never know why I hope to have a good friday.

I throw my bag into the office before heading out to the front. There's a line leading out the door. All the tables are full and people mill around chatting.

"Why's it so busy?" I ask.

My mother grins. "It must be that ad we put up down by the mall."

I try to resist the urge to roll my eyes. My mother is always proud of any promotion she does that gets us huge crowds like this. Me on the other hand? I hate it, because of how busy we get afterwards. "Where's Sasha?" I ask. Normally she's here before me after school on fridays.

"She said she had to stay and do a presentation. Have a good rest of your day!" Mom waves to the customer.

"Will she be here soon?"

"I'm not sure." She looks over her shoulder at me. "Could you start another batch? I'll handle the front."

I don't get a chance to respond before she's greeting the next customer. I turn around and hide back in the kitchen.

Why did she even call me to the front if she didn't need me up there? I open our cupboards and grab out the pots and pans I need. Why can't she hire more help on fridays? Or even have dad stay later in the day? I know he's up at five in the morning baking but still. I take a deep breath. Baking the next batch can calm me down.

I hope.

I separate all my ingredients between three different batches. I'm going to make our chocolate fudge, peanut butter fudge and orange fudge. I first start with our regular fudge and melt sugar, marshmallow cream, salt and evaporated milk together. As time goes on I follow the steps I know by heart. It's not like making fudge is hard. That's probably why my parents chose to open a fudge bakery. The melting and forming part only takes about twenty minutes and after that you stick it into the fridge to harden.

As I start the orange fudge the back door flies open.

"Sorry I'm late!"

I turn and find my sister, her brown pixie hair looking more messy than usual. "Thank god you're here now," I say.

She smiles a smug little smile. "Miss me did ya?"

Before I can respond the kitchen door swings open and moms head pokes through. Her hair that had been in a ponytail now seems to be everywhere but the ponytail. "Sasha! Stop talking to your sister and get up here and help me!"

Sasha straightens like she's being yelled at by a military commander. She nods her head. I'm almost surprised she didn't salute our mom. "Coming."

Mom ducks back out to the front. Sasha spins around. "Talk later?"

I nod and focus back on the fudge. I pour the pecans and grate orange peels into the mixture of melted chocolate.

It's not like I'm trying to ignore my sister but when mom's like this on a friday it's better to not engage with either of them. My sister may be in a good mood right now but after a few minutes being out there she'll still turn into a mini mom/boss.

As I finish the fudge up I put it all in the fridge to cool and start to clean up. When I'm done, I move out to the front. The line that had been going out the door now only has two people in it.

One of them, who seems awfully familiar. This time he doesn't look like he's having a bad day.

I go and stand beside my sister who now handles the till. "Hi there!" she exclaims in her customer voice.

The boy with blue eyes grins. "Hi."

"So you come during our open hours this time?" I remark.

Sasha shots me a glare that seems to say 'Don't say that to our customers.'

He nods. "I did. I studied the hours online to make sure I got them right."

I chuckle. So he's the type to make jokes.

"What can we get for you today?" Sasha asks, trying to keep the conversation on track.

The boy looks at our display cases. "They all look so good."

Sasha nods. "They are. Once you try one you can't stop coming back. That's what our customers say."

"Which is your favorite?" he asks, staring at me.

I open my mouth to answer but Sasha beats me to it. "My favorite would have to be our Candy Cane fudge."

"Really? I'll get one of those."

Sasha grins. "Coming right up!" She walks over to where in the display case that fudge is.

The boy watches her for a minute before turning back to me. "That question had been for you," he says.

I nod. "I know that. But Sasha gets excited about this place. It's her passion." I look over at her. She's always so happy when she's here. I never see her leave being sad or angry after a shift. Unlike me.

The boy seems to eye me. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

He pauses before he answers. "Isn't it your passion?"

I chuckle. "I probably shouldn't be saying this to a customer, but no. It isn't."

He tilts his head. "Why not?"

I shrug. "I used to love working here." I look around the store. "This place has a bunch of good memories, don't get me wrong. But this place has been a part of my life for so long. And it used to be so fun and I dreamed about working here but." I shrug. I'm not quite ready to unpack all my feelings onto a stranger. "It's just not like that anymore."

The boy nods and opens his mouth.

"Can I get you anything else?" Sasha asks before he can speak.

He looks at me. "What's your favorite?"

"Our Cherry Chocolate."

He points a finger at me. "I'll get one of those please."

Sasha nods. "Coming right up." She goes and grabs the fudge and then brings it back to the front. She sets it down by the other one. "Will that be all?" she asks.

The guy nods.

Sasha beams and presses a few buttons on our machine. "That'll be eleven dollars and twenty cents please."

"Debit," the boy answers, holding his card up in his hand.

Sasha hands him the machine.

"Olivia?"

I spin around and find mom beside me. "Yes?" Out of the corner of my eye I see him hand Sasha the machine. She rips the receipt out to him and he shakes his head.

"Have you thought anymore about what you're going to do?"

I roll my eyes. I can't help it. This is the only thing she's been talking about since I started grade twelve. "Mom. I told you already. I'm not working here for the rest of my life. It's not what I want to do."

She grits her teeth. "But it's the best plan you have since you don't know what you want to do."

I run a hand through my hair. "That's why I told you I would work here until I figured something out."

"And what if you don't?"

I shrug. I don't want to tell her the truth. That no matter what I will be quitting this job. Whether it's sooner or later, that I'm not sure about.

I see Sasha deflate like a balloon behind me.

"What about Sasha?" I try again for what seems like the millionth time.

Mom shakes her head. "I'd have to wait four years."

"But it's what I want to do!" Sasha exclaims. "I love this place and want to work here."

I can't imagine having that feeling. It's one thing I'll never understand. Why work here with an overbearing mother?

Mom pinches the bridge of her nose. "I hate when you two do this."

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Gang up on me."

I shake my head. "We're not ganging up on you. We're just telling you the truth."

"If I may-"

I spin around. My eyes are wide as I notice the boy is still standing there.

"Oh!" I'm sorry mister. Can we help you?" mom asks.

"I couldn't help but overhear you're... uh, situation."

I roll my eyes. Couldn't help? More like decided to stay rather than leave.

"Oh, I'm sorry. But this isn't really any of your concern," mom tells him. For once I agree with her.

"Oh, uh. I know, sorry. Maybe I won't offer help." He starts to back away.

Good, go.

"What do you mean? How could you help?" Mom asks.

I cringe. No! Why did she have to ask that?

The boy pauses while walking away. "Well, my dad actually works at a place that helps people find a career for them."

Mom tsks. "We don't need that. Thank you though." She turns to me and Sasha. "I'm going to be heading out now. I'll see you girls for supper?"

Sasha nods. "Love you."

I nod. "See you then."

Mom gives me a pointed look. I roll my eyes. Right now I have zero care for her.

"Love you girls," she says before pushing back into the kitchen.

I spin around and turn to the boy. "What did you say your name is?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't."

"Then what is it?"

"It's Charlie."

I nod. Charlie. "I'll think about your offer," I tell him. After all, mom doesn't get to decide my future or how I find it.

He grins. "Awesome. I'll see you around?"

I nod.

Charlie nods before walking towards the door. When he's left the bakery Sasha turns to me. "What are you doing?" she asks. Not in a mean or snobby way, but in a curious what are you up to, kind of way.

"Well, if I do take his offer up and he helps me find a career I like, I can get mom off my back about me working here."

She bites her lip. Her blue eyes filled with worry. "Mom won't like that."

I wave her off. "It'll be fine. Plus, if I do find a career I like then she'll have no choice but to wait until you can take over."

Her face brightens. "You think so?"

I grab her by the shoulder and bring her in for a half hug. "I know so."