Cora hadn't expected to have an epiphany during her lunch break, but she was glad she did. She hadn't realized how off track she had gotten, and if something hadn't jolted her back into focus, who knows how far she would've gone before she noticed. After years of hard work and dedication, she couldn't afford to be distracted. Not again. Not when a brighter Cool Beans future was almost within her reach.

When she tied her brown apron again, it was with firm double knots. She donned her black flat cap snugly on her head, just above her tight ponytail. This wasn't a game, nor was it a battle. She could have fun later, but for right now, this was her job—this was her life. And she took her life seriously.

For the next few hours, she kept her focus within Cool Beans territory, refusing to give in to her temptations across the food court. At first, it was a struggle, and Cora would've buried her head in the ice machine to restrain herself if it wasn't a health code violation. Instead, Cora immersed herself in the rush of caffeine-hungry customers, challenging herself to foam just enough milk with minimal waste, then to guess the next customer's order before they placed it.

And if she just so happened to dispense espresso grounds to the rhythm of Fruitastic's jingle... Well, that was a coincidence, and no one had to know but her.

Even when Kevin caused another bottleneck at the registers, Cora kept to herself and the next drink that popped up on the order screen above her. She noticed Darlene glancing her way, as if daring Cora to jump in, but Cora diligently stayed out of the way. Maybe one day she could run the store the way she wanted, but now wasn't the time. She had to get promoted first, and she couldn't do that by playing games with the competitor—she couldn't be having fun, regardless of her urge to simply peek at Fruitastic's line of customers. All Cora had to do was her job.

After Kevin's shift ended and Cora and Darlene took care of the rest of the rush, Cora continued through her list of tasks before her manager could say anything. The only thing Cora raced against was Darlene's minimal patience, darting around the store to replenish the coffee machines, condiments, and napkins before her manager or a customer could snap at her. Every time she felt the urge to see what Farron was up to, she dove deeper into whatever task was before her—sometimes literally, in the case of fishing out a moldy drink lid from the back of the trash compartment. As it turned out, sticking one's head in a smelly cabinet was enough to drown out Angie the Orange's entrancing—no, excruciating—songs. Even after that, Cora began to sweep the floors, only pausing when she spotted customers heading her way.

All the while, Cora wore her wide Cool Beans smile.

"Are you trying to leave early or something?" Darlene asked as she took inventory of their coffee ground supply beneath the counter. "No amount of work is going to get you out of closing."

Cora glanced up from dusting their display of mugs and tumblers, a much needed task when their stock was stagnant. "Of course not! I love closing actually. It's like I get to set our team up for success!"

Only when Darlene stopped her work to raise her eyebrows at her did Cora realize how fake her answer sounded, even if it was the truth.

Before Cora could prove her sincerity, Darlene shook her head and turned back to her clipboard. "Wonderful, because you're closing by yourself today. I'll be at the main office."

Cora continued to beam, even after Darlene disappeared when she crouched below the countertops. "Can't wait!"

Actually, Cora could wait a very long time. If her earlier observations were correct, Farron had the closing shift as well, and Cora would be running out of distractions from Farron's challenges long before then. Okay, maybe they were Cora's own challenges, but Farron still participated, and Cora couldn't keep doing that. She needed to take her job seriously. She couldn't afford to slip up.

Once Darlene left for the night, Cora continued to keep her focus within the borders of Cool Beans, not letting her gaze pass the line where the security grates would fall at the end of her shift. She imagined that her attention was confined to the same boundaries as their cleaning jurisdiction; according to Darlene, anything past that belonged to the mall's staff, and Cora shouldn't waste time over it. For all she knew, an alarm would start blaring as soon as her eyes went from the brown tiles in Cool Beans to the glossy cream floors of the food court. Maybe a door would open above the giant clock on the wall, but instead of a chirping cuckoo bird, it would be a shrieking Darlene.

At some point, Angie the Orange's singing seemed to grow louder, but Cora couldn't tell if it was because of her own dwindling self-control or Farron's abuse of her assistant manager powers. Thankfully, a customer showed up to Cool Beans before she could dwell on it much longer, and Cora put as much attention as she could into the simple Americano. By the time she bid them farewell, possibly a little too enthusiastically, Angie's voice had almost vanished.

But there was one thing Cora couldn't ignore, no matter how much she tried: the passage of time.

It was inevitable that the giant clock in the food court would strike nine, and Cora would be forced to leave the mall before her carriage returned to the bus depot for the night—and she didn't have a fairy godmother to turn her invisible if she ran into Farron along the way. Not like she was scared of Farron or anything ridiculous like that. She just didn't want Farron making fun of her hardcore work ethic...or something... Regardless, that was a problem for future Cora. Present Cora just needed to focus on doing her job: closing up. And her goal wasn't to win any races—it was to set the openers up for success. If that happened to take her more time than usual, and Farron conveniently left before Cora was done, then so be it.

She took her time wiping down the counters and equipment, even deciding that it was the perfect time to tackle the mysterious quarter-sized stain on the condiment station that no one could get rid of. When there was nothing else to clean, and she still hadn't heard the security door roll down in front of Fruitastic, Cora counted her till a few times, then spent a few more minutes organizing the bills and coins to all face the same direction.

But she couldn't stick around forever, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that the chair in the backroom would make a decent place for a nap. Besides, if she actually deserved a promotion, if she was truly serious about her job, she should be able to look her distractions in the eye and immediately ignore them.

Not that Farron was a distraction, of course. The competitions against her were to blame. She just happened to be the only challenger.

With renewed resolve, Cora sprung to her feet, paused for a few seconds to blink the stars from her eyes after the sudden movement, then marched outside. She wasn't going to say anything to Farron. All she would do was stare at the woman as she lowered the security grille between them, wordlessly showing her determination. She was unaffected by Farron's taunts. She didn't need to win their silly games to prove her worth. She was a professional, and she was going to show Farron just how serious she was.

But when she went outside, Farron was nowhere in sight. The security grille in front of Fruitastic was lowered, and the lights inside were off. In fact, all of the restaurants in the food court were closed. Even Pizza Shack was empty, and their employees were notorious for loitering in the kitchen as they concocted strange pie combinations and dared each other to eat them.

Cora's first thought was that she had somehow slept through an apocalypse, and everyone was either dead or abducted by extraterrestrials. After a beat, she managed to regain some of her sanity and think of the proper conclusion: clearly, she was the one trapped in a parallel universe where everyone else ceased to exist. It took her a few more seconds to nix both of her ideas, then another to realize it was nearly ten o'clock, and everyone had likely left on their own accord.

She had gotten exactly what she wanted, but it didn't feel like an accomplishment.

While there was no reason for her to stall anymore, there was no reason to rush either, and Cora took her time locking up. Even when she finally made it outside, alone in the dark, she only took one cursory look around her before trudging through the nearly empty parking lot to her bus stop. It wasn't like she had a bad day. In fact, she had done a fantastic job with every single order she made, and the grumpiest customer had only complained about the empty creamer carafe. She had been a star employee, yet, as she slumped down on the old bus stop bench, why did she feel so defeated?

Suddenly, a revving car engine echoed throughout the dark street, and it was quickly followed by shouts and jeers. Cora jumped just in time to see a sleek black car speeding by, its passenger nearly hanging out the window as they waved their arms wildly.

"Hey, cutie!" one of them shouted in her direction, their voice echoing in the empty road. "Want a ride?"

Before Cora could look at their faces, before she could even breathe, the car drove off without stopping, leaving only the smell of exhaust hanging in the air and the sound of their laughter ringing in her ears.

More than likely, they were just messing with her and weren't planning on coming back. They were probably just a bunch of drunk college kids trying to act cool and show off their egos.

Still, Cora couldn't help but think of the possibilities. What if they came back? There were no cameras nearby. She could go back to the mall, but what if she missed her bus? Should she hide nearby? But what if they snuck up on her while she waited in the darkness? All she had was her old key, and the day's leftover pastries would squish on impact. One of them had lemon zest on top. Perhaps that could burn if she smashed it into an attacker's eyes—

"Hey."

At the sound of the low voice, Cora jumped to her feet and spun around, stumbling a bit when her feet found the curb. She didn't dare look down, though, instead trusting her instincts to move her legs to the road so she wouldn't trip again. Her heart hammered ruthlessly in her ears while her hands clenched around her old key. Everything around her was a blur, her eyes more concerned with movement instead of details.

But when nothing moved, the smudges of color came into focus, starting with what was the most out of place: Farron.

She was standing on the other side of the bench, motionless. Not even her expression shifted, only staring at Cora with the same impassive face she would give customers at Fruitastic. While Farron was small compared to the darkness that surrounded them, in Cora's eyes, when everything else was still a blur, the woman's presence was everything.

"Farron?" Cora whispered. "What are you doing here?"

For a moment, Farron seemed frozen in place, and Cora wondered if she hadn't spoken loud enough. Then, Farron shrugged.

"I was about to leave, until I heard some kids being rowdy." She nodded her head to the side. "Maybe you should get out of the road."

"Oh. Right."

Cora's legs shook as she made her way back to the bus stop, and she tried to sit sideways so she could at least partially face Farron and not look like a complete jerk. Luckily, Farron rounded the bench soon after, but Cora still couldn't shift her gaze from the road, right where the speeding car had disappeared into the distance.

"You okay?" Farron asked, the low pitch of her voice no longer as shocking as it had been a minute ago.

"Yeah," Cora said, though her voice wavered slightly.

For a moment, Farron was silent. Then, with a soft sigh, she sat down.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

Cora was bewildered enough to finally look at her. "Excuse me?"

She wasn't sure what she expected to see from Farron, but it wasn't the same impassive expression she had before. Maybe Cora expected her to be smirking or glaring. Maybe she was just surprised to see that Farron was still there at all. If that wasn't enough of a shock, Cora finally took a good look at the woman's eyes, then realized her gaze was softer than Cora had ever seen.

Or maybe Cora was still reeling from her scare.

Again, Farron sighed softly, but she didn't look as arrogant as she usually did. "I meant if you wanted something to drink."

After staring at Farron for a few seconds, Cora glanced down to see her holding out a small Fruitastic cup. A straw was sticking out from the lid, the bright orange plastic partially concealed by the remainder of the paper wrapping.

"You're not allergic to anything, are you?" Farron asked.

"Uh...bees."

It took a few seconds for Cora to realize that her answer was irrelevant to the situation, and as her face warmed, Farron let out a soft chuckle.

"I don't think there are any bees in this—unless you count the 'bee' in 'banana.'"

Cora hadn't expected such a joke just then, and when it finally registered, she couldn't help but let out a startled laugh as she accepted the drink. "If you're going to start a competition over bad puns, then I forfeit now."

"Of course I wouldn't. But only because all of my jokes are of the highest quality. Even better than my smoothie-making skills, as you'll soon find out."

"I guess I will."

Cora hadn't expected much from the drink. It wasn't like she had anything against blended fruit in general, but there was never anything surprising about them. While there were so many possibilities from different coffee roasts and milk types—and that was before adding any kind of flavored syrups—there were only so many possibilities from pulverized fruit and ice.

When she took a sip, her eyes expanded with her beverage horizons. It was as if she stuck a straw into an apple pie, and the contents she slurped up was a smooth slushie. The apple and cinnamon were the most prominent. In the background was vanilla, like a scoop of ice cream that had been plopped on the warm dessert. Belatedly, she remembered Farron mentioned a banana, but Cora wouldn't have known otherwise with the strength of the other flavors. There was even a hint of something pastry-like, but Cora couldn't put her finger on it—

Suddenly, she felt resistance in the straw, and she held the cup out just enough to glare at it for such an offense.

"Oh, sorry, you probably got a graham cracker," Farron said. "I was trying to leave some chunks in there for texture, but I forgot how skinny the straws here are."

When Cora looked at Farron, she was surprised to find the woman more focused on the cup in Cora's hand. While she was smiling, it was slight, and her own hands turned a similar cup between them.

"How..." Farron began before her eyes slowly met Cora's. "How is it?"

"Delicious," Cora said. "It's like an apple pie was melted with vanilla ice cream. Or, you know, blended. Obviously. I didn't realize you guys had this on the menu. Is it a seasonal drink?"

Much to Cora's surprise, Farron grinned. "You really think so?"

Belatedly, Cora remembered who she was talking to, then quickly toned down the smile that had slipped onto her face at some point. "I mean...I guess. It would probably taste better with coffee, though."

Farron laughed. " Of course you would say that. But to answer your question, it's not on the menu. It's...something I threw together just now. For one of my complimentary drinks of the shift, for the record."

"You came up with this?" Cora asked, not bothering to hide her surprise anymore. "That's awesome."

Farron's smile widened. "Thanks."

With that, they fell silent. Cora's eyes drifted up and down the street, occasionally sipping her drink. The flavor was comforting in a way, like the holiday season. It reminded her of home, and not the small studio apartment she rented with her freeloading rodent roommates. It tasted like her childhood, like being surrounded by her—

"Why were you avoiding me?" Farron asked, her husky voice only a hint louder than a whisper. "After lunch."

Cora's gaze froze on the street. She didn't see anything, but it wasn't because of the darkness around them.

"Was it because of what I said?" Farron continued. "About lightening up and having fun?"

"I wasn't avoiding you," Cora said, struggling to squeeze the words through her tight throat.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Then, Farron sighed.

Before she could say anything, though, bright headlights illuminated the corner of Cora's vision. In the distance, her bus had just turned the corner, and Cora wondered if it was moving slower than normal as she hurried to the curb to meet it.

"I can tell that you're lying, you know," Farron said from the bench, her voice barely discernible over the rumbling engine of the approaching bus. "But that's fine. You can keep doing that—assuming that's what you really want to do."

In her shock, Cora almost didn't move when the bus door slid open in front of her. Even as she scrambled on and took her normal seat, even as the bus pulled away from the curb, she didn't dare look back, keeping her eyes fixed on the cool cup between her stiff fingers.

She couldn't let herself be distracted from her goal—not again. No matter how excited her victories in the food court made her, no matter how the cold smoothie cup somehow felt soothing under her fingertips, Cora knew what she really wanted, and she was determined to get it.

Right?