Sidelined Love: A Hockey Romance (The Crestwood University Series Book 1)

If I could, I would pay someone to drag me out back and put me out of my misery by any means necessary.

But luck isn’t on my side.

Instead, I’m forced to do what I consider to be a soul-sucking job. Well, it’s not the job, it’s my boss.

“Large Americano!” I call out, but nothing changes.

My fingers tighten around the steaming paper cup as the heat from it begins to seep into my skin. I’m staring for a moment at the woman who ordered the drink, but, of course, she’s not paying attention. It’s taking everything in me not to snap. I have to maintain a positive customer experience for the patrons of Brewed Beginnings.

In order to calm the urge to scream, I take a moment to center myself and then I say it once more. “Large Americano!”Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

The woman’s eyes meet mine. I gesture to the drink before sliding the cup across the counter without looking back at it, knowing it won’t fall off the counter from having done this a million times before.

How hard is it to pay attention so that you know when your order is called?

It takes everything in me to not rub my hand across my face. I hate this part of the job. I am forced to push my shoulders back and paste on a smile as I play the cheerful barista, while customers treat me like I am a piece of furniture. But my bills don’t pay themselves, and my tuition doesn’t vanish into thin air, never to be heard from again. So here I am, at Brewed Beginnings, pouring coffee and trying to keep my shitty thoughts to myself.

“Anything else?” I ask, making myself sound more cheerful than I feel as I hand over the drink.

The woman, scrolling through her phone, mumbles something about extra napkins, and once I give them to her, she hurries off without a thank you.

That doesn’t surprise me. If I had a penny for every time someone didn’t acknowledge the act of service I’d just given them, I’d be a millionaire. It doesn’t make it less annoying, however.

I take a deep breath, counting to three in my head. Patience, Hailey. You need to have patience.

But who am I kidding? This is just another day of me slinging overpriced caffeine to sleep-deprived students. One of the few silver linings about this gig is the free drinks I can consume while I’m here. To be honest, it’s the only thing keeping me from quitting.

I scan the room as students and professors shuffle in. Some are bleary-eyed and yawning because of the early hour. The constant hum of conversation fills the café, broken only by the occasional laugh or loud sip. Everyone here looks as exhausted as I feel. Welcome to life as a college student.

As the morning rush at Brewed Beginnings continues, I slip into a rhythm that’s equal parts robotic and resentful. Is it normal to be irritated this early in the morning? No, but I am, even though I do my best to hide everything behind a pleasant mask. Each “Thank you” and “Have a nice day” I offer is as automated as the espresso machine hissing beside me. Thankfully, both of us are working well today.

“Skinny vanilla latte!” My voice cuts through the hum of conversations that surround me, but it’s met with the same vacant stares and slow reactions. “Skinny vanilla latte is ready!”

When I get the same reaction, I’m tempted to snap. How hard is it to listen for your order? Is it time for us to ask for people’s names with their order?

A guy in a black Crestwood University jacket finally looks up. I notice the earbuds in his ears and the surprised expression on his face. He reaches for his headphones, unplugging himself from the music-infused bubble he’d placed himself in. With a quick nod and a mumbled, “Thanks,” he rushes out of the coffee shop. At least he said thank you.

A woman approaches the counter, and I turn my gaze toward her. I offer her a very fake smile. “How can I help you?”

“A large mocha,” she says. I nod and write the order on the cup. A strand of my wavy brown hair falls out of my messy bun. I brush it aside with a huff.

“Next!” I call out as I wrap up another order. I’m more than ready to take the next customer.

A student strolls up to the counter and carefully examines the menu for a long time. Then she looks up at me and speaks. “Caramel macchiato, please,” she whispers, and her voice is so low that I question whether I heard her.

“Size?” I ask, already reaching for a cup. She answers, and I write her order on the cup before handing it off to my coworker, Ben, who is standing at the espresso machine. I keep taking orders and making drinks because the line looks as if it is never going to end. While doing this, I think about what I’ll need to do in my classes today. It’s an endless cycle that plays on a loop in my mind as I try to talk myself into embracing what has already started off as a busy day.

The line dwindles, giving me a moment of relaxation. I lean against the counter, taking a second to scan the café. Students are leaning over their laptops, homework and other papers tossed on tables, and the occasional burst of laughter fills the air. It all feels familiar and captures college life at Crestwood University.

The school is in the heart of Crestwood, Virginia, and is home to the Crestwood Red Wolves. Although the university was built after the town was founded, you’d think it was the other way around. The campus itself is stunning with its manicured grounds and picturesque buildings. While most of the things we could ever need can be found somewhere in the vicinity, our college administration encourages us to go into town and patronize local businesses.

Speaking of businesses, things are slowing down at Brewed Beginnings, and I sigh before I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s time for my break, but first, I should find Marc, my manager.

I scan the area for him, but I grow irritated when I don’t spot him. Despite my dislike for him, he is someone I must deal with while working here. And right now, he is standing between me and another cup of coffee.

Seeing that Marc is nowhere to be found, I turn my attention to Ben and Thomas, who also work several of these morning shifts with me during the week. “Hey guys, I’m going to take my break now.”

Ben looks up and gives me a quick nod. “Excellent. I’ll take mine when you’re back.”

I untie the back of my apron as I walk over to the espresso machine and start on my drink. My fingers work on autopilot, handling the espresso machine as I brew my usual pick-me-up. The steam wand hisses as the rich aroma of the coffee grounds wraps around me like a source of comfort, one I’d grown used to after only a few days of working here. I decide that a latte will satisfy me right now.

Once I finish making the drink, I step from behind the counter, holding the cup close to me. I head toward the corner of the coffee shop that has become my usual hangout on my breaks and when I stop in during a non-work shift. The small nook, with an old table and chair, provides an excellent opportunity for people-watching, which is what I usually do when not engrossed in my phone.

I whip off my apron, which gets caught on my messy bun just before I set my drink down on the table in front of me. Sitting in the chair, I close my eyes and breathe. Away from the counter, this is my time to recharge, even if only for a few minutes. I open my eyes and as I take a sip of my latte, my gaze drifts around my workplace.

Brewed Beginning’s exterior has a charming red brick façade and large, welcoming windows. The interior showcases its warm, rustic charm because of its exposed wooden beams and soft lighting that casts a lovely glow over the room. Local art decorates the walls, adding splashes of color and character to the space. The shop’s success, in part, stems from the aesthetic it presents. That’s not including how good our coffee tastes, the speed that we get people in and out of here, and our convenient location right on campus.

“Hailey.”

I hold back a groan that threatens to fall from my lips. Of course, Marc finds me right now as I’m trying to enjoy my break. I place my cup down, plaster on a fake smile, and give him my full and undivided attention. I’m willing to bet money that whatever he wants to say could wait until after my break is over.

“What can I do for you?” I ask, clenching my fists because it’s the only thing I can do to avoid rolling my eyes or showing any other sign of frustration.

“Restock cups and lids and clear tables at your earliest convenience,” he says with unnecessary harshness.

I glance at the stacks of cups and lids and raise an eyebrow. I shift my gaze to the tables that have been cleaned. The only ones that are dirty are the ones where customers are currently sitting. I resist the urge to point out that “when I have a moment” means after my break, since I’m pretty sure he’s aware. But I simply nod in acknowledgment of his request.

I look up and find Marc staring at me as if he’s expecting me to have a different reaction. His perpetual frown is permanently etched on his face, and if anyone else looked at me like that, it would be creepy. The ‘scowl of death’ gives him an unapproachable appearance. Because of this, most of my coworkers are intimidated by him.

But me? I couldn’t care less about what he thinks of me, and I refuse to kiss his ass. I assume he hates me but can’t fire me because I’m one of his most efficient and reliable employees. Plus, corporate might give him hell if he fires me for no valid reason.

My eyes land on Thomas and Ben, who aren’t doing too much of anything at the moment. If he wants to have something done immediately, he has plenty of choices without bothering me.

“Do you remember what you said to me when you were desperate for me to hire you?”

I remember it because he brings it up every time he knows he’s stepping out of line. “Yes. I said that I can handle anything you threw my way.”

That day, just a little over three years ago, had been the worst and best day of my life. The best thing is that I’d gotten a job and could supplement the scholarships I’d earned, the loans I’d taken out, and the money Dad had to put up to pay for school. I must maintain my grades and job or find another one to remain at Crestwood.

Not to mention, he has no issue with reminding me about how disastrous my first week at Brewed Beginnings was because I had barely any training and they threw me into the proverbial fire. He’d been on the brink of firing me several times then, but I begged him to let me keep this job. Now, he holds it over me every chance he gets.

“Well?”

I’m drawn back to the man in front of me. Assuming that he wants me to actually say the words, I put us both out of our misery so that he’ll leave me alone. “Got it. I’ll do it after I’m off my break,” I reply, knowing better than to argue with him. Telling him that I understand what he wants me to do is fine, but I can’t resist adding the last part in.

“Get it done quickly and watch the attitude.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away.

Thank fuck.

With my manager out of earshot, I exhale deeply. The tension I feel every time I have to interact with him melts away. I finish my coffee, check my phone, and return to work. The rest of the morning shift passes in a blur. Getting what I need to get done before I leave is the only thing on my mind.

As the clock inches toward eleven, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. My early morning shift is coming to an end, and I have about an hour before I need to head to class.

Just as I’m about to walk toward the counter to begin the process of leaving for the day, Jade Samuels, my best friend and roommate, breezes in with a grin on her face. Her golden-brown skin shines as she brushes her dark brown curls off her shoulder and walks over to me.

Before she can speak, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

The words leave my mouth a bit more harshly than I intended, but she should be used to me by now. The expression on her face doesn’t indicate that she took offense to anything I said.

“I left my last class early and came to see if you wanted to grab lunch. Then we can walk across campus to our next classes. I think they’re both in the same building.”

Her coming here is sweet, yet unsurprising. She’s always been this nice, spontaneous person since we ended up in the same dorm building our freshmen year. I swear she’s the reason I survived that year, and I don’t know what my life would be without her.

Well, it would be a lot less bright, that’s for sure.

“That’s a great idea. I need to finish a few things before we leave.”

She gives me a small nod and I finish up the minor tasks I need to complete before I leave for the day. I debate whether it’s worth grabbing a small pastry from the coffee shop instead of stopping somewhere else on campus to sit down and eat.

No. We have enough time to eat, and I need to focus on taking some time out for myself instead of rushing to do or attend to the next thing.

I take my apron off for the last time today and go to the backroom to grab my things. Once I double-check that I have everything I came in with, I walk back up to the front and find Jade standing as she places her bookbag on her back.

As we walk out of Brewed Beginnings, Jade leans in and says, “You look like you’re tired.”

I snort. “What college student isn’t tired?”

It’s the truth, but my answer is a way to get her off my case about my workload. We all must do what it takes to achieve our goals, and I’m doing my best with what I have. As seniors this year, we have a lot to think about regarding our future. I don’t want anything to deter me from doing something with my future environmental science degree.

“You know what I mean. You’re too preoccupied with work and school to enjoy yourself. One of these days, I’m going to get you to do something spontaneous and fun just for the hell of it. Mark my words.”

“I do spontaneous things.” Well, I do sometimes. Or rarely.

“Like what?”

“Binge-watch reality television shows,” I say.

Jade lets out a short laugh as she loops her arm through mine. “You preplan that too and I sometimes watch them with you. Doesn’t count.”

“Touché.”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m going to recommend we go skydiving or something.”

“If you did, I don’t know if we can be friends anymore.”

Jade looks at me with her mouth open. “Hey! That’s not nice to even joke about.”

The corner of my mouth twitches upward for a second. “Okay, I won’t say that again. Ever. Regardless, I’ll believe that you’ll get me to do something spontaneous when I see it.”

And that isn’t a lie. I’ve come to embrace my work ethic and the time I put into getting things done. It doesn’t leave much time for me to have impromptu adventures.

Memories of finding my mother’s side of the closet empty after returning home from school and the silence that followed are something I won’t ever forget. Although my dad and I adjusted to our new normal, I was forever scarred and changed. Since then, every decision, every action, was a step toward maintaining stability, ensuring I would never find myself in that position of loneliness again.

And that is the story I’m sticking with.