JOHNNY JUNE

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W E L C O M E  T O
M I L L E R ' S  B A K E R Y

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WESTERN SYDNEY SEEMS ESPECIALLY bright on the Thursday afternoon Johnny Thornton walked down the bussing streets that make up the inner city. The sun blazes over the world below it, a slight nip in the summer air and a soft whisper of wind that dances through his neatly kept shaggy hair. He walks with hands shoved deep in his black carpenter pants, his canvas shoes ruffed up and torn, specifically placed holes around his toes from too many attempts at skateboard tricks. His mother always thought his interest in skating was silly, pointless even. Nevertheless it was his comfort to being alone. But he doesn't feel alone anymore, not with the girl on the other side of his phone that makes him laugh a laugh he didn't even know was his own.

The distance between the hospital and Miller's Bakery is a short one, the walk quick and easy, barely giving anyone the chance to break a sweat no matter the temperature. He has never done it before—the walk, that is—the cafe just happened to be the closest spot for well-baked cakes near the hospital that first time a few months ago, according to Google Maps. His mother loves cake and he doesn't blame her. It was her delicacy outside sickness, a little flicker of hope that maybe one day she'll be back in the kitchen baking her own. Johnny chews his nails at his mother's constant sense of hope, he had always found it hard.

A loud jingle above the entrance door sounds as he steps foot into the well lit cafe, not a space he actually expected. The interior is neat and homely, a sensible age to everything inside giving it character and comfort. Much like June always says, there were only the elderly that loitered across the deep burgandy booths, large mugs of hot beverages placed between their frail hands and slices of mouth-watering desserts on small square plates. Johnny inspects his surroundings before walking towards the counter that was free from clutter besides a register, three filled to the brim cookie jars and a bell.

Johnny waits silently at the empty front, too nervous to ring the little silver attention bell and insteads opts for shifting from foot to foot. As if sensing his presence, a small lady with a walking stick and tattered grey hair walks past the counter and sends a small smile his way. He returns it but she just keeps walking.

"June, get your nose out of that damn book and serve some customers!" She yells in a ruffed up voice that makes it seem likes she's spent most of her living life smoking cigarettes.

Johnny perks up at the familiar feminine voice, a heat rising to his cheeks. "Gran, you literally just walked past the counter." He hears her grumble before there's shuffling from behind the large professional coffee machine that sits on one end.

"I still don't get why you always bring your books here!" The lady continues.

"Sue me for wanting to get a degree and out of his hell hole." Johnny freezes when June steps out from behind her hiding place, curly red hair sat messily atop her head. He memorises the curve of her heart shaped face, her porcelain skin and light green eyes that are shielded by thick lashes. He gulps, wiping his slowly sweating palms on his pant-clad legs. "Crazy old witch."

"Is that any way to talk to your grandmother?" The old lady scolds and tears Johnny's attention from the gorgeous girl that wasn't aware already held his heart. "Now serve the poor boy."

Johnny steps closer to the register as June steps behind it, pulling her fiery hair into a bun with a sigh and adjusting her small name badge that most definitely has 'June' written across it. She looks at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, her head tilted to the side as she analyses the boy in front of her. It wasn't every day she served boys her age or really even interacted with them at all, her day to day mood setter was talking about bingo and whether Lucy down the road was getting hip surgery.

"What can I get you?" Her voice is light and kind, a change from her usual sarcastic demeanour behind the phone.

He clears his throat, looking quickly in the display window at the array of fresh desserts. "Right, um, can I please just get, uh...cake?" Johnny resists the urge to roll his eyes and slap his forehead at how completely ridiculous he sounds.

June giggles, her brows creasing. "Sure you can, what kind of cake?" She gestures to the display of cakes with an amused smile.

"Right, uh, red velvet please." Johnny lets out a light breath with a smile and watches as she pauses for a second, her left eye twitching as she stares at him for a moment longer as though something about him was familiar to her. He freezes, for some reason thinking that she might say his name, but she doesn't.

June shakes her head and smiles tightly, "good choice, it's my favourite." Johnny watches as she reaches into the case to pull out the layered cake, cutting it carefully and placing it cautiously in a little designed cardboard box. He smiles gratefully when she places it on the counter in front of him, tapping buttons on the register screen as she chews on her lower lip.

"Anything else?" She asks.

Johnny opens his mouth with a second of courage. "Yeah, actually—" and the second was over. He looks down at the cookie jars. "Cookies. Um, I'll get a cookie as well. Please." June nods and grabs a small cookie box with a pair of tongs.

"Which one?" Her smile crooked.

Johnny doesn't bother looking at the flavours and instead keeps his gaze on her pretty face. "One of each." He blurts out. June nods and packs up his baked goods, finalising the order on the register and accepting his payment.

"Have a lovely day!" She waves him goodbye and starts to clean up her station and with one last hesitant look, Johnny takes his desserts from the counter and leaves Miller's Bakery. He walks back the same route that he previously took and as each second passes by he thinks of literally all of the things he could've possibly said. Anything was better than 'cake' or 'cookies'. He didn't even go for the dessert! He went for the pretty girl behind the counter, just to look at her for a second and see her smile and say a few selected words to him that she obviously says to every person that walks through that cafe.

Johnny just wanted to look at the pretty girl and say 'it's really nice to meet you' and tell her all the words he's been wanting to say. But he didn't. Now all he has is some cake and some cookies and the memory of a girl who's far sweeter than the two of those things combined.

He groans, annoyed at himself when he feels the buzz of his phone. Reaching into his pocket he balances the desserts in one hand and pulls out his phone with the other, not even bothering to look at the Caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Johnny, I'm so sorry. You're so much better than just the guy on the other side of the phone."