Chapter 3 - Five Years Later

Samantha didn’t even recognise herself in the mirror anymore. It’d been five years since she broke up with Jason and graduated. Five years of double shifts and a cold, empty house. Five years of watching rejection emails pile up higher than her rent notices.

Her eyes had new shadows underneath them. Her hair was tied back permanently, as though she didn’t have the time or energy to ever let it fall free, and the only thing that was steady was her schedule: job applications, work, more work, job applications, smoke, collapse, repeat.

She’d graduated top of her class with honours from the Geology department, but she had nothing to show for it, except for her childhood fascination with the moon and heaps of old textbooks she never returned to the library.

She’d picked up a smoking habit to help cope with the breakup and the reality of her life now. Love? Relationships? Happiness? What a joke. Jason had cured her of that fantasy for good.

The café was packed as the morning rush started, and dozens of people poured in. Samantha worked the tables, calling out drinks and serving espresso shots like her life depended on it, because in truth, it did.

“Table four’s asking for refills again,” her manager barked, tossing a rag her way.

Samantha plastered on a tight, practised smile. The one that said: I’m cheerful, I’m friendly, and I’m not depressed at all. She grabbed the pot and headed over.

“Hey, hey,” the guy at the table smirked, catching her wrist as she poured. His three friends laughed as if it were the joke of the century.

“Can I get your number?” he said, grinning.

Samantha exhaled slowly. “No, thanks.”

The guy tilted his head, pretending not to hear her. “What was that?”

“I said no. Should I charge your drinks to the same card as last time?”

“Aw, come on,” he pressed, fingers tightening around her wrist. “One date. That’s all I’m asking.”

“You’ve asked three times since you got here, sir,” she said, doing her very best to keep her tone calm. “The answer hasn’t changed.”

“Damn! She shot you down, bro!”

One of them leaned back in his chair, smirking. “C’mon, man, she’s got a nice rack. Don’t let her play hard to get.”

Her smile stretched thinner, and she clenched her teeth.

“Don’t be a bitch,” the first guy sneered when she tried to pull her hand free. “I’m being nice. You think you’re too good for me? You’re probably an ugly slut under all that makeup.”

Samantha froze. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to react, but instead, she breathed deep, lips still curled in that fake smile.

“Enjoy your coffee,” she said through her teeth, yanking her hand back. She spun on her heel and marched straight to the back for her break, blinking back tears.

The second the door to the alley shut behind her, she ripped her apron off and threw it on the ground. She kicked the metal dumpster over and over again in a blinding rage until her foot ached.

“Motherfucking, entitled---” she paused to switch to the other foot. “Piece of shit---cockroach---"

Her coworker, Lila, leaned against the wall, holding a half-eaten muffin and watching her with a raised brow. “Bad table?”

Samantha snatched her own cigarette from the pocket of her apron, lit it, and inhaled so deeply her lungs burned. “Men are fucking trash.”

“Whoa. What happened this time? Let me guess, some loser couldn’t take no for an answer?”

Samantha didn’t respond; she just took another long drag and shut her eyes, making smoke rings in the air.

“Girl,” Lila said, shaking her head, “you need to get laid. Like, with someone who knows what they’re doing. Good dick will solve half your problems.”

Samantha turned her head, giving Lila a long, unamused stare as she blew smoke into the cold air.

Unfazed, Lila laughed and bit into her muffin. “Fine, be a nun. But one day you’ll thank me.”

“I doubt it. All I need to do is get a real job and move out of this dump. One day, I’ll finally be able to make something of myself and really help the folks out. Men don’t factor into that equation.” Samantha smiled faintly, remembering her parents, her younger siblings, the twins and their old sausage dog, Benji, back home. She missed them so much.

“Not even a little? Not even for fun?” Lila suggested, wiggling her eyebrows and winking.

“Not even for free,” Samantha snapped.

Her break ended, so she crushed the cigarette under her heel before heading back in, making sure the fake smile mask slid back into place as she picked up the coffee pot again.

The table of assholes was still there, laughing too loudly and sneering at her every move as she approached. She steeled herself, rehearsing in her head the way she’d keep her expression blank and her words polite, no matter what sort of filth they threw her way.

But then she froze, because sitting at the edge of their table with them, perfectly composed in a tiny skirt and flawless curls, was her.

The girl from her department. The girl who’d been sprawled across Jason’s lap on Samantha’s couch.

She was perched like a queen bee at their table, basking in their attention and stirring whipped cream into her coffee with exaggerated elegance. And when she spotted Samantha, her lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the frigid bitch who couldn’t keep her man satisfied,” she purred, her voice cutting through the laughter of the guys around her.

 “Hi, Samantha. Long time no see.”