-Alexia-
The espresso machine hissed, spitting steam and stress in equal measure. I wiped almond milk off my apron and tried not to scream at the group of college students arguing over who ordered the matcha.
It's just a job, I reminded myself. It's just a Tuesday.
Bree, my roommate and chaos gremlin, leaned over the counter with a to-go cup she hadn't paid for, eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.
"You look like one more drink order might end you," she chirped.
"That's because it will." I flattened a pastry bag harder than necessary.
"Which is why," Bree sang, "you're coming out with me tonight."
"No."
"Lex."
"No."
"One drink, one dance. Then I'll never bug you again."
"You said that last time."
"Technically, I said I'd only probably never bug you again."
I paused, catching the concern behind her glittery sarcasm. She was right. I was tired of working, studying, crashing, repeating. Of feeling like life was something happening to other people.
"One drink," I said, "but if anyone spills on me, I'm leaving."
"Deal." Bree grinned, victorious. "Meet me at the apartment by eight. I'll handle the outfits."
I sighed as she sauntered off, then turned to the next customer.
"That will be $3.50," I told him.
"That's expensive for coffee," he grumbled, but paid without further complaint. I didn't respond, focusing on the hiss of the steam wand and the rhythmic tamp of espresso grounds, counting down the minutes until I could see Zeus.
Two hours later, I tossed my apron in the laundry bin, waved goodbye to Shannon, and slipped out the back door into the warm afternoon. My cherry-red '67 Mustang waited for me, a promise of freedom I'd worked my butt off to buy and fix through high school. As I drove toward The Healing Paw, the veterinary clinic where I volunteered, a familiar ache stirred beneath the surface of my ribcage.
I passed the rows of fast-food signs, strip malls, and tired sidewalks of my small college town, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was meant for something more than clocking in, grinding through classes, and collapsing into bed. It wasn't just about wanting a "big life." It was a pull, like something in me was waiting—like the world was quietly holding its breath around me. I didn't know what for, or why. But today, it hummed beneath my skin as I turned into the clinic's parking lot.
Inside, I found Zeus exactly where I knew he'd be—on the exam table, hooked to an IV, ears perking when he saw me.
"Hey, buddy," I whispered, scratching behind his ears as his tail thumped weakly.
Dr. Ramirez explained the scare with the poisoned meat, the note that read "Stay asleep, girl," and the shadowy figure caught on camera. My stomach twisted as I read the paper, my fingers curling around it like it might burn me. Something inside me felt like it snapped awake. It wasn't fear exactly. It was like something had been waiting.
And then, they told me Zeus was mine.
"You're joking," I whispered, blinking back tears. "He's really mine?"
Elaine just smiled. "You're his person, Alexia. You always were."
Zeus wagged his tail, and I hugged him, promising he would never be alone again. Sometimes, I swore his eyes glowed before storms rolled in, like he could sense the thunder before it cracked the sky. The vet once joked he was part wolf, part lightning rod, but I'd always figured he was just special.
By the time I got home, the sun was setting, washing the sky in pink and gold. Bree's lavender-sage room spray hit me the moment I opened the door, music thumping softly from her room.
"That you?" she called.
"Yeah," I called back, dropping my bag. "Dog mom reporting for duty."
Bree's head popped out, eyes wide. "Wait, what?"
I grinned. "Zeus is mine. Officially."
She shrieked, pulling me into a hug before shoving me toward our shared closet. "You have five minutes to freak out before we get ready. We're celebrating!"
At The Hollow, the music pulsed as Bree and I danced, laughing until our feet ached. For a few hours, everything felt light and right. Until it didn't. A guy tried to grab me. I told him no. He didn't listen. Then, everything changed. The lights above us flickered, the floor trembled, and the air crackled like a thunderstorm in my veins. A hanging plant exploded with vines, candles flared to life, and Jason—smug, confident Jason—backed away, fear on his face. And then, just as suddenly, everything went still. I stood there, trembling, breathing hard.
"Lex…" Bree said softly, her eyes wide. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know," I whispered. "I didn't do anything."
But deep down, I wondered if I had. Or if something inside me had been waiting, all along, to break free finally.