(Akaash) Count the Croissants

“On your way back, pick up two coffees, four croissants, and a pack of cigs from the corner shop next door to the café.”

I frowned, “I thought you said you would quit-”

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m your parent!” he grumbled.

“Ok? But it’s going to get you in trouble with mom so-”

“Who says she’ll find out? Goddamnit, don't talk back to your father!”

Mishti, my eight year old kid sister, shouted in the background, “I want a macchiato! Extra whipped cream!”

“No,” he said.

Then he hung up. Great. I was gonna have to deal with this when I got back.

I rushed to get to Café Eris afterschool. Luckily there was a bus stop right outside. I was waiting in line when I heard some familiar voices.

Jessica and Maisha from biology class, and Sana (our student council president) were all sitting beside the bookshelf, chatting with two older women. I don’t think they had noticed me. It was a noisy day but I could vaguely make out what they were saying.

Something about, “Mr. White is an acquaintance of a raccoon” and, “Jess thinks some guy named Jimothy is cute”? Uhhh, also “Jimothy harasses people”?? That one caught me a little off guard, but ok. Then, “Maruto won something”. That name sounded very familiar. Oh wait, never mind Jessica doesn't like Jimothy, she likes some guy in biology with her and Maisha. Hmm...she must be talking about Rahim who’s in our class. Solid choice.

I decided to say hi. They must have not heard me approaching because they looked pretty shocked, especially Jessica. I wonder if she has some sort of health condition. Her face was flushed red and she was blinking a lot as she spoke. Maisha was doing math homework, as expected from one of Nerva Srec’s best students.

Jessica speaks really fast. She asked for math help and we exchanged contact info. I'm always happy to help fellow classmates when I have the time.

Maisha kept looking at Sana uncomfortably, so maybe this was my cue to leave. My dad was also blowing up my phone with “Where are the croissants?” texts.

As soon as I got home I was greeted by Mishti screaming and having a temper tantrum over her nonexistent macchiato with extra whipped cream.

“Sorry, but I didn’t have enough to buy one. Here, take this instead,” I said, handing her a chocolate croissant.

She punched me in the leg, let out another guttural scream and scurried away with the pastry.

I sighed. Just another day in hell.