Onyx (Jewels Cafe Book 10) Read online




  Onyx

  Jewels Cafe, Volume 10

  Melissa Adams

  Published by Melissa Adams, 2019.

  Onyx

  A Jewels Cafe Novella

  Copyright © 2019 Melissa Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in any reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the prior written consent of the authors.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  1. | A Christmas Surprise

  2. | Debate Club

  3. | A Christmas Memory

  4. | Her Bah Humbug

  5. | Wish Upon

  6. | Jewels Cafe

  7. | Pumpkin Spice

  8. | Closer

  9. | Field Trip

  10. | Motherfucker Jones

  11. | Three Little Words

  12. | Confused

  13. | Three Ghosts

  14. | Twelve Days Of Christmas

  15. | Together

  16. | ‘Twas The Day Before Christmas

  17. | Let It Snow

  18. | The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

  Bonus Recipe | Pasta With Vodka Sauce

  Moonstone

  Acknowledgements

  To my nana and grandpa for always giving me magical Christmasses

  1.

  A Christmas Surprise

  Onyx

  KAKAWWW!

  I groan and cover my head with my pillow, willing to cling to my precious sleep but the wretched bird screams again.

  Kakawww!

  I stumble out of bed and look outside the window at the black feathered creature perched on the tree right outside.

  I named him Fred, since the asshole has been waking me up bright and early every morning since spring sprung.

  “Labor Day weekend has just gone, will you migrate already or hibernate or whatever birds do in the winter? I’d really like to sleep past six am.”

  He looks at me with his little, shiny beady eyes and utters another ‘kakawww’.

  “One of these days Fred, I’ll throw one of my shoes at ya.”

  I don’t know what kind of bird Fred is: he’s black and roughly the size of a magpie.

  Maybe a small crow?

  The ping of my phone distracts me from my conversation with Fred and I check the incoming text message.

  Joe: Meet me at Jewels Cafe in ten. We need to talk.

  I can’t stifle the automatic eye roll at my ex-boyfriend’s message: he already dumped me the day after Prom, so the ‘we need to talk’ doesn’t really have any effect on me, it’s not like he can dump me again, right?

  Joe and I are co-captains of the Debate Club at school and we started dating last year after homecoming.

  He was my first serious boyfriend and the first and so far only boy I’ve slept with.

  He’s smart and witty and popular at school but as boyfriends go, he was selfish and cheated on me with Brittany, a girl in the Debate Club.

  I make my way downstairs completely lost in my thoughts and I almost don’t see my parents as I walk past the living room.

  “Onyx can we talk to you, sweetie?”

  “Sure.”

  I normally would’ve thrown myself into my dad’s arms but our relationship has been rocky since he and Mom announced that they were getting a divorce last Christmas.

  I mean, who in their right mind splits up on Christmas Day?

  But things hadn’t been going well for a while in our household and I guess the writing had been on the wall for a few months.

  Apparently Dad had an affair with Mom’s boss: the owner of the Silver Springs Gazette.

  When she discovered that her boss had been fucking her husband, Mom took a baseball bat to the office and destroyed everything that was breakable in the tabloid premises.

  Obviously she was fired from her job and Sophie, her boss, dumped Dad too, saying that she couldn’t deal with his crazy ass wife.

  I mean seriously, I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, Mom and I are too similar and we clash more often than not but when I heard the news, I developed a new respect for my mom.

  I actually wish I could’ve been there to take a swing at the bitch’s computer screen too.

  Since the split, Mom has been writing freelance and waiting tables at the local diner–she was obviously sentenced to repay the thousands of dollars in damages that her little rampage had caused at the gazette–and Dad had moved into a studio apartment at the edge of town.

  No amount of groveling convinced Mom to take her cheating husband back and I’ve been resenting both of them for upsetting our seemingly perfect lives.

  Money has been a problem since then with a mortgage and a rent that now fall almost solely on Dad, and my parents’ little stunt has totally ruined Christmas for me: Bah fucking humbug!

  I can quote lots of different major and minor disasters that occurred on Christmas Day.

  From me getting chicken pox one year, to the flu another year, to Dad’s flight getting canceled because of a snowstorm two years ago and causing him to miss Christmas with us.

  Coincidentally Dad got stuck in Chicago and bumped into Mom’s boss.

  That was the beginning of their affair and the beginning of the end for my parents’ marriage.

  So I glare at my parents and fold my arms over my chest in a protective stance: like with Joe’s message before, what else can they do to ruin my life?

  And do you know when people say ‘rock bottom’?

  The next two events in my morning confirm my belief that there’s no such thing as rock bottom.

  Believe me, you can find new lows when you least expect it.

  “Onyx, we wanted to talk about Christmas ...”

  I resist rolling my eyes at them: here it goes, Christmas strikes again.

  “It’s September, can this wait? I was meeting someone before school and—”

  So if I was hoping that Dad was here to see me off to the first day of my senior year at Stone Hill High, I was sorely mistaken.

  Mom intervenes.

  “We wanted to tell you that this year money’s going to be very tight, so the scale we normally do things will be reduced by a lot. We know it isn’t fair on you but—”

  I sigh.

  “Mom, do you really think that I care about presents? I think it’s safe to say that after last year, I fucking hate Christmas.”

  I throw my most accusing glare at them: how could this be any different when last Christmas I woke up to them yelling at each other and to Mom aiming at Dad’s head with every plate, mug, and small appliance she had within reach.

  And again I don’t blame her: when she locked up the gazette office for the Christmas break, Mom couldn’t remember if she’d left a window open in the bathroom and after a few break-ins in the area, she went back to check a few hours later, when she couldn’t relax, plagued by the doubt.

  That’s when she walked into Dad and her boss.

  Dad didn’t come home that night but when he showed up at home on Christmas morning, Mom was waiting for him jacked up on coffee and having had time to plan his welcome home.

  So yeah, Christmas lost all its appeal when I saw Mom crying inconsolably on Christmas Eve and I had to witness my parents’ ugly row in the morning.

  It was so awful that I couldn’t even bring myself to open any of the presents under the tree, most of them are still sitting in a dark corner of
my closet, still wrapped.

  My parents don’t seem to take any notice of my attitude and Mom continues:

  “The reason why money is gonna be super tight is that I’m pregnant. And the baby is due around Christmas Eve.”

  So I sit down, or more accurately my knees give in and I land on the couch, staring at my mom with my mouth wide open.

  Where do I even start?

  “But you don’t even look pregnant. How are you gonna have a baby in four months?”

  Mom is tall and willowy, with long blonde hair and the stunning looks of a runway model.

  I inherited my short stature and more generous curves from Dad’s side of the family,

  I also got my paternal grandmother’s red hair and green eyes.

  Mom sighs.

  “Even with you, Onyx, I didn’t start showing until very late in the pregnancy. Plus loose clothes hide a lot.”

  She lifts her flowing blue tunic to reveal a tiny baby bump in place of her normally flat stomach.

  I take a deep breath, I’m about to hyperventilate and I don’t wanna give Mom the satisfaction.

  “Who ... Who’s the father?”

  Mom started dating pretty much immediately after the split, to piss Dad off more than anything and there’s been a constant flow of guys picking her up for dates.

  “Please tell me it isn’t Dave!”

  Yeah, Dave was super obnoxious and sleazy looking.

  Dad clears his voice, throwing Mom a sideways glance and comes clean.

  “I’m the father, Onyx.”

  “How? I thought you guys were over? You know, the whole divorce thing? The whole being unable to be in the same room without yelling at each other and without Mom throwing shit at you, Dad?”

  Mom sits down next to me and looks at me guiltily:

  “Well, your father and I hooked up last April. Remember when you got dumped at Prom and you called us in tears and Dad spent the night here to support you? Well, we ... And I might have been dating but I haven’t met anyone I like enough to, you know ...”

  Gross.

  Ok, not gross but am I the only one who finds the idea of my parents ‘doing it’ something that I’d rather not think about?

  “So, are you two getting back together?”

  They answer in unison:

  Dad:

  “Maybe.”

  Mom:

  “No!”

  Mom clarifies that their ‘one night stand’ was just a slip-up.

  “Onyx, I’m not saying that we hate each other. I still love your dad and we’ll always have you and your baby sister to tie us to one another but our marriage is over. The new baby doesn’t change what happened last Christmas.”

  “Whatever!”

  I seethe and walk away leaving my parents gaping at my back.

  I know they probably think that this is about having less presents at Christmas and that I’m being a brat but they don’t understand that I miss them, I miss my family.

  I miss snuggling on the couch with them to watch old movies, reading the gazette together on Sunday mornings at the breakfast table.

  And having Dad make me toaster strudels for breakfast as a good luck ritual on debate days.

  And I’m mad at them for bringing another child into this mess of a broken family because they couldn’t bother with protection.

  In the last twelve months, I’ve had to be the responsible adult in this family and how will I explain all this mess to my new sister when one day she’ll inevitably wonder why Mom has the strange habit of throwing things aiming at Dad’s head?

  I wasn’t already looking forward to Christmas but now I seriously dread it.

  2.

  Debate Club

  Onyx

  I WALK ON THE PRETTY cobblestones that pave the area of Jewels Cafe’s entrance and look through the floor to ceiling windows when I don’t see Joe at the few tables that crowd the coffee shop’s cordoned area at the entrance.

  The owners put the tables out in the summer and the weather should be nice enough to sit outside for at least a couple more weeks.

  I immediately hate that Joe didn’t sit outside since this is a warm, sunny morning but I spot him at one of the tables by the left window.

  I haven’t really seen him much since we broke up but he hasn’t changed at all: still buzz-cut black hair and green eyes, broad shoulders and a good physique if a little on the short side for how I usually like guys.

  But his intelligent conversation definitely made up for his lack of stature, at least until he started treating me with an annoyed condescension and arguing with every single decision I was making as co-president of the Debate Club.

  It was a total change of personality and I struggled to understand the reasons behind it, until he dumped me on Prom night and I found out shortly after that he was banging Brittany behind my back and everybody knew.

  As soon as I sit down, the cafe owner Julian brings me a cup of peppermint tea.

  Joe must have ordered for me, knowing full well that I hate the flavor of coffee, while he’s drinking an espresso, black like his soul.

  “Ok, what did you wanna talk about?”

  He sips on his coffee to hide his annoyance at my blunt tone: I haven’t forgiven him for cheating on me and I’ve purposely avoided every place in town where I knew I could run into him, spending most of my summer locked in my room or hiding away at Spell, Silver Springs Public Library, where I know he wouldn’t be caught dead because he’s allergic to dust and can’t go near old tomes.

  “I know we broke up Onyx, but is there any reason to be so rude? We dated for eight months after all.”

  I look into my teacup, concentrating on the steamy hot liquid: anything rather than looking at my ex-boyfriend.

  “Yeah well, can you blame me for feeling a bit salty over being cheated on and dumped at Prom, so you could take Brittany to the after party?”

  “I thought you got over it, that was ages ago. Sometimes you’re so immature!”

  I glare at him: sure, it’s easy to take the high road when you’re the one doing the cheating.

  He’s lucky that I’m not my mom and that I like this cafe, or I’d start throwing mugs at his face.

  When I don’t grace him with a comment, he continues.

  “Since you wanna dispense with common pleasantries, I’ll get straight to the point: you’re off the Debate Club and Brittany will be my co-president this year. I just wanted to give you the heads up to avoid you the embarrassment of showing up at our first meeting this afternoon.”

  “What do you mean I’m out the Debate Club? Whose decision is that? You can’t do that to me, the club has to vote someone’s expulsion!”

  Joe sighs as if I were particularly slow and explains that the club met last night at his house and they took a vote.

  “Why wasn’t I there? That’s like an ambush. If your new girlfriend couldn’t bear to have me in the club, she should have given me at least the chance to defend myself. I want another meeting and the chance to—”

  “Onyx, just accept this gracefully. We had the legal number for a meeting and if you look at the school’s by-laws a club meeting is legal even off school premises as long as there’s the minimum legal amount of members and the meeting takes place after official school registration. Sorry but this is what’s best for the team: I can’t have Brittany feeling insecure over having you there. You can go and complain to the principal, but we followed the club’s rules very carefully.”

  I can’t believe him!

  I gave all my free time to the Debate Club and it’s my only elective.

  Winning debates looks good on college applications and each Stone Hill High student needs at least one elective class or qualifying club in order to graduate.

  I explain this to Joe but he doesn’t seem concerned about the bind he just put me in.

  “There are tons of clubs at school, just find yourself something else. I’m not gonna risk my relationship for you, Onyx. Sorry. And before
you say anything else, may I remind you that I was in the club before you, so in the breakup, I get the club.”

  I feel tears starting to push their way to the surface and swallow a few times: I don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  “I thought you loved me, you know? How did we end up here?”

  Joe shrugs.

  “To be honest Onyx, I’m into blondes. I asked you out because Brittany was dating Kevin, the student body president and then when that jerk dumped her, I stayed with you because you’d just decided to put out. After all what guy leaves certain sex to pursue someone who might not even be interested? But we’re in high school, love is a really big word.”

  I stand up abruptly: I need to leave before I decide to throw my hot tea in his face.

  If I make it to school early, I might have time to see the student counselor and find myself another elective.

  I walk toward the cafe’s exit feeling miserable: this day couldn’t have started any worse.

  But as I keep my eyes fixed on the ground, lost in my misery, I walk straight into Amber, the pretty blonde girl who owns the cafe with Julian.

  We crash into each other and she drops her laptop and a few leaflets she was carrying.

  I start uttering apologies, glad that she wasn’t carrying anything hot or fragile but she looks more concerned for my well-being than for the stuff she dropped.

  I help her collect the leaflets and that’s when I notice that they’re for a job ad: they’re looking for a part time waitress here at the cafe.

  I look at Amber and ask:

  “Would you hire a high school student?”

  She gives me a friendly smile.

  “Sure. We had a few applicants already, but we haven’t started interviews. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow after school?”

  I thank her and promise to see her tomorrow afternoon: if I could get a job, I could help Mom and Dad with money for the new baby, ease some of their stress.

  I just turned eighteen and somehow I doubt that Mom has kept any of my baby stuff, she must’ve thought that I’d be an only child at this point.