DEER EYES chapter 1

ANDREA

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Utter silence filled the room as the final minutes of the exam ticked away. The light flooded through the lanky rectangular windows, clouds that offered hints of grey. It washed over everyone seated on the seats that ascended in height with each step upwards. The smooth wooden desk beneath let students' hands flow over the sheet of paper. Something they desperately needed in the final minutes of the exam. Inside of every person it was a different story; Quick heartbeats, blown-out eyes, and scribbling hands. Then the invigilator's Manchester-accented voice rang out:

''That's it! The time for test-taking is over. Pens down,''

On cue slowly chairs were scraped back, tests handed in, and the thick fog of stress fell away with the class.

''Thank you.''

Allowing myself one last lingering glance at the clock, I found myself late. Rushing down the stairs to the field outside, I found obvious and new information colliding: The University of Edinburgh undeniably had a beautiful charm towards it; Grey weathered stone, carved immaculately to serve as a place that hosts learning. Not to mention it was as breathtaking on the inside as it was on the outside. However, running late to your side job as a waitress in the heart of Edinburgh isn't my idea of charming.

My shoes went from mushy grass underneath to the thud of the city pavement. Taxis swerved around corners and car engines grumbled, yet it was all background noise by now. Only a faint droplet on my cheek pulled me out enough to realise it was about to start pouring.

Pushing open the cafe's door, right on cue with the faint jingle of the bell above, I received pointed looks from my coworkers. What more could I have expected?

The place was called 'Monty's café'. Inside it was lit with warm lights, a mix of modern counters and working areas, while the walls were filled with warm, soft colouring and vintage black and white photos in frames. Tile floors where boots clicked, the smell of coffee... it had quite the reputation. Too bad Monty's an asshole.

The pointed looks only sharpened my swift movements towards the changing room. Only stopping to offer a soft, ''excuse me,'' to Tim, who was a dark-skinned tower of a teenager who had a passion for herbal teas.

It was only when the door clicked shut did I truly breathe. The changing room was dim and cramped. Lockers to store things temporarily, a few mirrors. All of it stained with the same smell of a hollow room which no one stayed in for long. My movements were hasty as I shoved my clothes in an empty locker, and turning around I met my reflection tying my hair up in the mirror.

''Gosh...'' Was the chosen word that escaped my lips as my fingers dragged at my cheeks. My face was paler. And my eyes, staring at the dark brown orbs in the mirror, I looked so out of it… Enough. Tucking black strands behind my ears I moved to brew coffee besides Fatma.

Fatma was a single mother of two, who immigrated from Iraq. She worked multiple jobs, and this was simply one of them. She wore a violet hijab and had a thick Arab accent, however she made good company.

"Late again?" I didn't understand why the woman felt the need to question if she already knew the answer.

"Final exams. Too many stairs,'' I replied lazily as I pressed down on the foam machine.

"Do not blame ze University,'' Fatma corrected, "Going there'z privilege,'' Punctuating the sentence, she walked off to place an espresso and coffee for some American business expats sat at the corner. A sigh is all I offered as a goodbye, she mothers me too much. Although she may need to mother this man's sugar intake. Plates and cups in hand I walked over to a young man and an elderly woman sitting together. A mother and son.

''Here you go,'' I set the orders down and offered a warm smile. Then, exhaling and walking back to the counters, tucking hair strands back, I prepare for the next orders. A glance outside shows me it's pouring mad. Outside the wind bellowed the faint droplets of rain around so everything was soaked. Rain thundering down on the pavement. Nevertheless, something else catches my eye that causes me to do a double-take. Jingles brought that all-too familiar giggle. ''Oh, fuck me....''.

They couldn't have even brought an umbrella. Clothes drenched from top to bottom, and faces pulled in tight smiles. Their skin seemed to strain at holding all that happiness in; it seeped out. Despite the attempts at gushing in low voices, I still managed to catch parts of the conversation.

"God, he was insane! Leaving us out in the middle of the traffic like that!'' She exclaimed, incredulous. Sophie always had a posh manner of speaking. A faint lilt of being above it all that betrayed her upbringing. However, right now she was anything but - pale green eyes livid in a way that was peculiar to her usual facial expression. Hair strands clinging to her skin. One could even see her bra from under her tattered poppy blouse.

''Your friends?'' Tim asked. So deep in my thoughts, my mouth moved before I was fully aware.

''Yeah, something like that...'' As my eyes traced them sitting down. Drinking in everything about them, painfully so, until the point I knew the L'Occitane lip balm she wore as she snogged him in front of my face. The taste of it against my lips that night as blood seeped down my cut lip.... From across the café she spared her first cutting glance at me as I wiped down the counter, a mocking gesture.

Hence, I don't believe it an understatement when I say it takes a very special sort of person to do such a thing.