The

Little

Things

Chapter 1

Sunday

I'm sitting on the couch eating breakfast when my little brother, Michael, comes speeding in. He's holding the home phone.

"It's Aunt B." He says, handing me the phone. When I was twelve, my mom left us, leaving my dad to take care of Michael, Mallory, and me. Just last year, my dad passed away. I was fresh out of college and ready to start job hunting, but all of a sudden, I was burdened with the custody of my younger siblings. My Aunt B helped me with the money until I could start to support us properly.

"Hi, Aunt B." I say into the phone.

"Hello, darling. How have you been?"
"Good. We've all been doing well. Mallory is doing really well in school, and Michael's basketball team won their game yesterday." I tilt my head back and drop a noodle into my mouth. Noodles for breakfast. Yum!

"Mallory has been emailing me. She wants to take dance class." I nearly choke on the noodle I'm eating.

"We just don't have the money. She never mentioned anything like that to me."

"I'll pay for it."

"No, I can't let you do that. We're already in your debt!"
"We're family! I don't mind. Neither does your Uncle Richard. If you're really that worried about it, Mallory can pay for it when she gets older. There's no need for you to pay."

"I'll think about it and talk to Mal. I have to get going; I'll be late for work. Bye, Aunt B!"

"Bye, Amby." I hang up and drop the phone onto the couch. I dunk my empty bowl into the sink.

"Mike, Mal is going to walk back from Alyssa's house. She'll probably be back around lunch. I'll be back at four. Have a good day. Don't break anything. You can walk to Owen's house if you want. Be sure to be polite to his mom."

"Alright, alright! Bye!" I smile and quickly change into my jeans and a cardigan. I grab my coat and keys and dart out the front door, fumbling with the key and the lock. I run down the steps, bumping into Mr. Gerald and his dog along the way. I wave and mumble sorry.

When I reach Le Meilleur Café (which literally translates to 'The Best Coffee' in French) I open the door and slide inside, hoping that no one notices I'm late. Brit waves wildly when she sees me. She has a long line of coffee lovers waiting to get their morning fix. We get tons of customers around this time.

"Hi," I slide behind the counter beside her. I unlock the cash register and put on my apron. "I can help whoever's next!" I yell to the line of people. Half of them come barreling my way.

"Where the hell have you been?" Brit asks in between customers.

"Aunt B called. Do you have any idea how to get a twelve-year-old boy off of all his electronical stuff? Michael spends half his day in his room doing god-knows-what."

"I dunno. I'm only twenty." I turn to her.

"Yeah, I'm only twenty-three, and I'm a legal guardian. It's not the best feeling in the world." A pudgy man glares at me as I fumble with the foam machine. I hand him his coffee quickly and take his money. He leaves.

"When the twins get older, you can write an actual book." Brit says, scrunching up her nose as a smelly man orders. My next customer is a tall, blonde guy. He has deep blue eyes, and is lean, but clearly has some muscle. He would make a perfect surfer boy. I don't trust really pretty people until I get to know them. It's just a habit. I mean, seriously. How could someone really be THAT pretty? I'm not one of those girls that stutters around pretty people anyways.

"How may I help you?" I tap my fingers against the counter.

"Uh," He runs his fingers through his hair. "I'll have a Caffè Americano?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" I ask. Brit hears me, and glances over to glare sharply. I shrug at her. She looks up at pretty boy, and I can see her melting.

"It's an answer." He says, looking amused.

"Awesome." I reply, turning to make his drink. I turn back around and hand it to him. "That'll be $4.20." I say. He whistles.
"That's some expensive coffee."
"It's the best you'll get around here." He looks up.

"You sure about that?"
"Positive. Suck it up; I'm sure you can afford it."
"How do you know that?" We're arguing now. About the price of coffee.

"Hurry up!" The woman behind pretty boy yells. He sighs, hands me the money, takes his coffee, and leaves.

I'm on my lunch break when Antonio, my boss, comes over to talk to me.

"I was thinking of having a poetry reading around here." He says. I shake my head, smiling.

"No?" He asks. "Fine." I laugh, and he mock glares.
"You know, you could probably get a job at a magazine or something." Antonio continues. Hmm. It appears he's feeling conversational today.

"I want to write a novel, not work at a magazine. I never have time to write."

"It'll work out. Trust me." And with that, he gets up and leaves. I stare at the guy playing live music as I think. I'm interrupted when my phone buzzes.

MALLORY: Mrs. Jorge called. tomorrow we have parent/teacher conferences at school. You have to go. Mrs. Jorge says that you can do one for me & mike, not two. The appointment is 4:30.

I sigh. Parent/teacher conferences suck. I'm not a parent. I'm a sister. It's awkward, because when I went to school, I had the same teachers that Michael and Mallory have right now.

"AMBER!" Brit yells. I guess break is over.