THREE: PULL YOUR HAIR UP AND HANDLE IT

𝙄𝙁 𝙄 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝙔 𝘽𝙊𝙎𝙎 𝙏𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙉𝙀𝙒𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙊𝙒𝙉, I point your attention to how a shy teenager interacts with a crush.

This meaning that he constantly glanced at my phone when it chimed as I worked in the pub at night and got spammed during the day. He spammed the same three questions for about a week now.

"You know, Dearie," Charlie told me on day six. Her grin seemed to throw her back about fifty years in time. "Whoever is chiming you really likes you." She playfully nudged me as I handed Kai his iced green tea and breakfast sandwich.

"Who are we talking about here?" He asked in between mouth fulls of Taylor ham - extra crispy, if you cared to know. I only added this because it sounded like bone he was crunching on and it rubbed me the wrong way.

"The guy who has his eyes set on my sister," I replied.

(I have learned to ignore my phone within three days of the constant chiming.)

"Fianna! Another round of decaf please!"

"Coming right up, Liz," I replied before grabbing the bubblegum pink pot.

Super Coffee's interior became an amalgamation of all the decades that Charlie lived. Starting with the fifties - the main look of the cafe with checkered flooring and bright booths - and ending in the televisions of today, the music came from the eighties. The entire vibe was throwback Thursday to the nines.

(I enjoyed it, but I wouldn't admit it openly to my boss.)

The pinkness of the entire cafe was due to something Charlie would never tell me about. I never pushed her, even though I found myself sometimes needing to blink about five times to get through the brightly lit room. I poured Liz another mug of decaf coffee and gave her a tired smile before going to the counter once more. "I think she should find herself a man," I heard Charlie say.

"Maybe she can learn to have fun," Kai agreed.

"Fun?" I asked rather loudly. "I can have fun." An evil grin graced my face. Kai gulped and I poured the rest of the decaf coffee over him. "FOOD FIGHT!"

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𝙎𝙊, 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙔 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝘽𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝘿𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎. The food fight caught on much quicker than I thought on a sleepy Saturday morning. "I hope you learned your lesson, young lady," Charlie told me as she bit back laughter.

I growled at my reflection in the window. "I hate pink and puffy skirts," I muttered. At least, I wasn't wearing heels. At least, my hair wasn't pinned up. At least, I got to wear a leather jacket.

You get it. I know you get it, but this is what you need to understand.

(As much as Supers love to help people for various different reasons, they could also be extremely frickin' petty.)

You see, after my food fight stunt, I spent the rest of the morning on my hands and knees making sure that the cafe sparkled from top to bottom. Then Charlie decided to dress me up as a pink lady with a poodle skirt from the fifties for an anniversary promotion she came up with. Then my phone went off in the midst of my outfit loathing.

"What?" I snapped without even glancing at the caller I.D.

"Is that any way to greet an older sibling," a familiar voice teased.

"You? Then yes," I retorted.

"Did you even have your designated two cups of coffee today?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

"I guess you didn't."

(I hadn't at the time; however, I was never going to admit that to her.)

My sister and I weren't on good terms - and hadn't for about four years. One night, months after the accidental death of the bullies, she left in the dead of night. Only a note was left to verify her existence.

Then dad died. He was a cop and got into an accident during a car chase. It was just me, mom, and Alfie. But, mom, try as she might to move on and keep it together, couldn't do it on her own. I ended up picking up the extra slack around the house. Sold extra clothes that were laying around. Got a night job in order to pay some bills. I was trying. We all were trying.

But Fay left.

She left us with only one word - 𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮. - and I was meant to mend the broken hearts.

I guess that's why I liked being a barista despite this humiliating puffy pink skirt. The first night, when my brother, my mom, and I all sat around the table of our kitchen and we held hands, we thought we couldn't make it. I stood up and turned the espresso machine on and got to work on making three cappuccinos. I would steam the milk methodically as the espresso gurgled in the french press pot. That night, the three of us - Mom, Alfie, and I - sat around a cold wooden table and drank warm coffee. It burnt the back of our throats and we held on to each other.

That was the night we thought we'd never make it through. Yet, here we were four years later. Alive, and we made it through.

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee, Sandy," my sister said over the phone. Yet, her voice echoed and she sounded way too close to be away. I turned around and my jaw dropped.

(I almost dropped my phone too, but thank god that I almost crushed it in my hand instead. I didn't have the money for a new one.)

I hung up as she mirrored me.

There we stood. Two sisters staring back at one another, once closer than thieves and now two strangers who just happened to have the same parents. "Why are you here, Fay?" I asked her.My heart still clenched at the sight of her. Her flowing purplish red locks and her deep brown eyes. The color of the earth and stability and protection and life and everything foundational in life. Yet she was air. Necessary for being complete but so hard to keep close but so hard to keep down to earth but so hard to make sure that she stayed.

I wanted her to stay.

I wanted my sister to stay so badly.

She was my older sister and I still needed her guidance.

But, she never stayed.

"Let me buy you a coffee and tell you."

There were two things I could do in this situation.

First, I could run. I could run far away - maybe to Icarus - and hide until she left town on her next whim. She never stayed for long, so it's a viable option.

Or there was two, being shouted in my ear through Charlie's voice. She told me to "Put my hair up and handle it", her motto that essentially meant the following: "Stop being a scared-y cat and deal with it like a goddamn adult".

(Sadly, my mental version of Charlie won out this time... but I swear it's because I don't want to be like Fay and run.)

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𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙐𝙎 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆𝙀𝘿 𝘼𝙏 𝙈𝙔 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙃𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝘿 𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙇𝙀𝙔 𝙏𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀... spiked with a little rum.

It tasted utterly disgusting but I downed it anyway. It was the rare night off, but I came to work anyway. I was too angry to attempt homework. "You okay there, Fia?" He asked as he cleaned a shot glass.

I opened my mouth to answer only for the pub to break out into cheers. "I'm back!"(Icarus dropped the shot glass and it shattered. Fay was ever the drama queen.)

"That, that is the answer."