87

Sophia’s POV
I wiped my forehead with a napkin, grimacing at the ridiculous amount of flour covering my clothes. The bakery uniform, a pink and white ensemble, matched the shop’s interior. Even Bryan wore it, donning the pink and white apron as if it were the latest fashion trend. Surprisingly, he never complained about the uniform.
The outfit consisted of a white shirt with “Bia’s Bakery” stitched in gold thread, jeans, and a pink and white apron. As I walked, small puffs of flour rose from my messy uniform. Within three hours, I was already coated in a thin layer of sweat from the hot ovens and constant running around. Despite the heat, I was having the time of my life.
For those few hours, I didn’t have to face Lauren, Darren, or Sebastian. I almost forgot what I was-a werewolf. My limbs ached as I followed Bia from station to station. Chocolate eclairs, bear claws, extravagant cupcakes, and cannoli sat on silver prep trays.
Bia taught me the basics, and somehow, I retained the information. She showed me how to make dough for most pastries, as well as custards, creams, and chocolate ganache. By the end of the day, I was sure the scent of pastries would cling to me like a perfume, but I didn’t mind.
Bryan handled the register, a task he refused to relinquish. The day was hectic, with a steady stream of customers, but I enjoyed every moment. Bryan took pleasure in watching my mistakes, laughing heartily each time. His laughter even coaxed a few smiles from the usually stressed-out Bia. Thanks to my werewolf genes, my enhanced reflexes prevented any major clumsiness.
It was amusing to watch Bia and Bryan bicker. If they weren’t siblings, nearly identical in appearance, I would have thought they were a couple. By closing time, my heart pounded like a jackhammer. Bia had promised to let me know if I got the job by the end of the day. Despite my mistakes, I thought I did a decent job for someone who had never baked before.
“Sarah?”
My head snapped up as soon as I heard my name. I had been wiping down tables and booths when Bia called out. It took me a moment to remember the name I had given her.
“Yeah, Bia?” I responded, meeting her gaze.
Despite being covered in flour and bits of dried dough, Bia still looked stunning. Her sandy-blonde hair had a golden hue, kissed by the bright Missouri sun, and her eyes were the color of a midwinter sky, light and amused as they looked at my startled face. Bryan, her twin, was nearly identical in appearance. They both looked like they belonged on a Hollywood runway rather than in a small bakery in Missouri.
“So, about that position,” Bia began, her eyes locked on my face.
Her words made me stop what I was doing. Anxiety twisted in my gut as I clenched the dirty rag between my palms.
“You did good today,” Bia nodded, her seafoam eyes showing genuine approval. “But I expect better tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I echoed, my eyes widening and my jaw dropping as I registered the amusement in her words.
“Don’t be late either,” Bia warned, casting a sideways glare at Bryan. “It’s bad enough one of us can never come on time.”
“You know I’m not a morning person. We could’ve opened a nightclub; I’d come to work early every day. This boring town could use some night-time excitement,” Bryan shouted, his attention on the register. Bia scoffed and left Bryan to count the till, stacking the chairs on top of the pink tables.
As Bia locked the bakery doors behind us, I shuddered against the cool breeze. The streets were empty except for the occasional drifter. This town felt so different at night. During the day, it was vibrant, with aromas of different foods wafting in every direction. At night, it was vacant, with darkened houses and flickering porch lights.
“Need a ride, Sarah?” Bia asked, her eyes bemused yet thoughtful.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me and shrugged. “Not really, the motel is on the corner.”
“Oh, well, goodnight Sarah!” Bia called out, her voice gentle as it was lifted and carried by the wind. I gave her a kind smile and began walking to the motel.
“Hey, Sarah!” Bia called out again, and I turned in response. “Why don’t you stay the night at my place?”
Her kindness caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to people going out of their way to help me. Why would she want me to stay the night? We weren’t friends, and I wasn’t sure we ever would be. From her looks alone, Bia seemed like the type of girl who had a large friend group. From her athletic and toned body to her golden hair and blue eyes, she had never been an outcast before.
“Are you sure?” I asked, nearly flinching at how tired my voice sounded. It wasn’t a physical exhaustion but a mental one.
“Well, duh,” Bia chuckled, her eyes eager yet sleepy. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to!”
Bryan gave us a sluggish wave and got into his car. Bia was kind enough to stop by the motel so I could grab a couple of things. After one night without toiletries, I had given in and spent the thirty dollars to get what I needed. Bia’s face contorted in disdain as she looked at my crappy motel room. Torn curtains with a hideous seventies pattern, a stained carpet with a couple of bald patches, and a lumpy mattress summed up my extravagant quarters.
“This is where you’re staying?” Bia grimaced, her eyes trailing over the lumpy mattress.
Blood rushed to my face, followed by the swift entrance of embarrassment. The comforter I had been covering up with was littered with holes and a red stain that looked suspiciously like blood.
“It’s forty bucks a night,” I shrugged, turning my face so she couldn’t see the embarrassment in my eyes.
I gathered some toiletries and something to wear the next day. Within three minutes, I was ready and looked at Bia questioningly. Her seafoam eyes were uncertain yet thoughtful as she looked around the room. With a long sigh, her eyes hardened.
“Grab the rest of your stuff,” Bia huffed, her lips pursed as she glared at the poor state of my motel room.
“What?” My mind went blank, thinking she was playing a cruel joke.
“Grab your stuff; you’re not staying in this shithole,” Bia let out another sigh, making me feel guilty.
“You don’t have to let me stay with you,” I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden, something I had been enough in my short lifetime. “I’m just grateful I got the job. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
Bia didn’t reply, and the room fell into silence. After a few moments, I shifted uncomfortably, my eyes anywhere but on Bia.
“What’s your real name?”
Shock bled through my features before I could compose myself. Bia’s lips turned up in a sardonic smile. She knew she had caught me.
“Sophia.”
“Sophia?” Bia scoffed, shaking out her sand-colored hair. “Strange name, but I believe you.”
“Thanks, I think,” I murmured, unable to do much else.
I could feel the little safe haven I had discovered collapsing around me. Why would Bia want to hire someone who lied? I couldn’t even tell her my name, let alone the reason for being here. Who would want an employee like that? Who would want a friend like that?
“Why’d you lie?” Bia’s features were a mask of indifference, but she couldn’t hide the curiosity in her eyes.
“It’s a long story,” I gulped, feeling crowded in the motel room.
“I’d like to hear it sometime,” Bia nodded, her eyes surprisingly calm. “Are you coming or not?”
“I’ll stay here,” I shook my head, my stomach heavy as though weighed down with lead. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“I won’t offer again, so if you need a place to stay, let me know,” Bia frowned, her eyes distastefully roaming the motel room.
The word “burden” echoed in my mind, bouncing around like it was made of elastic. That’s what I was, wasn’t I? I was a burden to Lauren, to Darren, to Jessy. I was even a burden to Sebastian, one he had abandoned for seventeen years.
“Thank you for the offer,” I nodded, forcing a kind smile. “I won’t be late tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you then,” Bia grunted, heading for the door. Just as she crossed the threshold, she called out over her shoulder, “By the way, the next time someone asks for your name, don’t spend the next minute thinking it over.”
“Wait, if you knew, why’d you hire me?” I sputtered, looking at the sporty blonde girl before me.
“Bryan can’t bake for shit, and I really needed the help,” Bia shrugged. “See you tomorrow.”