Sleeping in the backseat of a car was misery incarnate. The seats slanted just enough to make lying flat impossible, and every buckle seemed perfectly positioned to jab into her back. Being on the tall side for a Tel’ani—about average height for a human—meant Nicolette couldn’t fully stretch out either. She woke up sore, sticky from the trapped moisture in the car, and immediately regretted her life choices.
The morning air was unreasonably cold, and nature wasn’t going to wait. With a groan, she grabbed her jacket and climbed out of the car, shivering as she trudged to the bathroom a few campsites away. On her way back, she spotted her tent-less, car-less neighbor already awake. Jake was bundled up in multiple sweatshirts, hunched over his small green camp stove. As she drew closer to her car, he glanced up and said one magical word: “Coffee?”
Nicolette stopped mid-step, blinking at him. “You have coffee?”
He held up a white Styrofoam cup, the kind you’d find at any gas station. “Yeah, but I don’t have another cup.”
Her brow furrowed. “Wait—you made coffee?” she asked, half-convinced he’d run to a gas station while she was gone and was now mocking her.
Jake gave her a crooked smile and nodded toward his stove. “Yep. If you’ve got a cup, I’ll heat up some water for you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Nicolette replied, her voice tinged with surprise.
While Jake poured water from a jug into his small cooking pot, Nicolette climbed into the front seat of her car and rummaged through her things. She found a Styrofoam cup nearly identical to his, left over from some gas station stop of her own. It still smelled faintly like stale coffee, and as far as she could tell, it wasn’t moldy—good enough.
Cup in hand, she grabbed her folding chair from the trunk and carried it over to Jake’s campsite. She set it down with a huff and plopped into it, holding out her cup. “All right, let’s see if this magical coffee of yours lives up to the hype.”
“How do you plan to make coffee?” Nicolette asked, trying to mask her skepticism with curiosity.
Jake didn’t say a word. Instead, he simply held out his hand for her cup. After a brief hesitation, she handed over the Styrofoam container, watching as he pulled out a small plastic contraption and placed it over the rim. He stuffed a coffee filter into it with practiced ease. Nicolette blinked, feeling a little foolish. How was she supposed to know they sold single-cup drip coffee gadgets?
Without a word, Jake scooped some coffee grounds into the filter and slowly poured hot water over them. Dark, rich liquid pooled in the bottom of her cup, the scent of freshly brewed coffee cutting through the chilly morning air.
“Got any cream?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope. Sorry,” Jake replied without missing a beat.
She shrugged, unbothered. Creamless coffee was better than no coffee. Wrapping her hands around the warm cup, she sank back into her chair and took a cautious sip. The hot, bitter drink was a welcome relief against the cold that threatened to seep through her sweatpants and hoodie.
Meanwhile, Jake got to his feet and started packing up his things, carefully stowing his gear into the gray tote. “Looks like I’ll be moving in today,” he said with a grin as he carried the tote over to the backside of her camping spot. True to his word, he really would be farther away. That was kind of funny.
Nicolette chuckled softly, thanking him for the coffee and taking $15—his half of the camping fee. After a quick goodbye, she paid at the entrance and returned to her car, ready to head off to work. Settling into the driver’s seat, she turned the key in the ignition. Instead of the engine roaring to life, it produced a grinding screech that made her wince. She tried again, but the same awful noise greeted her.
“Great,” she muttered, slumping forward against the steering wheel. “Not again.”
Jake, noticing her predicament, wandered over with a curious expression. “Car trouble?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Yeah, it’s been doing this a lot lately.” Nicolette sighed.
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“Sounds like your starter’s dying. Give me a minute.”
Jake crouched down and crawled halfway under the car. Two solid thuds reverberated through the car’s interior. Their unexpected appearance caused Nicolette to jump. “Okay, try it now. And, uh, promise you won’t run me over while I’m down here.”
Nicolette grinned despite herself and turned the key. This time, the engine roared to life. “How did you do that?”
Jake shrugged, dusting off his hands as he stood up. “You just have to beat the starter. I don’t know why it works, but it does. For now, anyway. You should probably get it replaced soon, though.”
“How much does one of those cost?” she asked.
“About a hundred bucks, give or take,” Jake replied.
“And the labor?”
He shrugged again. “No idea. I’ve always replaced mine on my own.”
Nicolette tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Would you replace mine if I batted my eyelashes really cutely?” She gave an exaggerated flutter of her lashes for effect.
Jake chuckled, giving her a noncommittal “Maybe.”
She laughed and fastened her seatbelt. “Thank you, Jake. You may have just saved me from being late to work. I just got the job.”
“No problem,” he said.
***
"Morning, Cheryl," Nicolette said as she meandered to her cubicle, balancing a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand and her bag in the other.
"Morning," Cheryl mumbled back without looking up from her screen, fingers already flying across the keyboard.
Nicolette sank into her chair, turning on her computer with a practiced motion. She unrolled the morning’s map and carefully weighed down the corners with whatever was handy—her stapler, a water bottle, and a pen holder—so it wouldn’t curl back up.
"Morning," came the familiar, tired voice of Sam as he shuffled past. The usual chorus of greetings followed from the nearby cubicles. Sam seemed like a decent guy—into online video games and every local sports team imaginable. He was friendly without being awkward around the women, which Nicolette appreciated. Still, she couldn’t help but hold her breath as he walked by. Nice guy, but he was fat and smelled like he hadn’t taken a shower in a while.
"Morning, Red," Cheryl said cheerfully as Lucy, the cute little half-elf with vibrant red hair, strolled in quietly.
"Oh, good morning, Cheryl. Morning, Nicolette," Lucy replied, her voice soft but bright, carrying a natural warmth that made her easy to like.
"Morning, Luce," Nicolette said, completing the still new daily ritual.
Nicolette hadn’t even worked here a full week yet, but she was already absorbed into the office’s routines and customs. She clocked in, opened the D2L program, and began the mind-numbing task of updating city maps with cable line information. It was a tedious job—repetitive, dull, and utterly unremarkable—but for now, it was steady work.
***
"Would you like your trees removed?" Jake asked, his tone light and casual as he approached the old man retrieving his mail.
The man turned, giving Jake a perplexed look. "What?"
Jake offered a self-deprecating smile. "Sorry, bad joke. You’ve got trees growing out of your gutters. If you’ve got a working hose spigot, I can clean them out for you. Not today, though," he added, lifting his bucket slightly. "On dog poop clean-up duty right now."
The old man glanced back at his house, narrowing his eyes as he took in the state of his eaves troughs. "Huh. I do have trees in the gutters."
Jake fought the urge to laugh.
"How much?"
"$150," Jake said, keeping his voice steady.
The man made a show of considering the offer, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Jake had a feeling those gutters had been on a long-neglected to-do list. "Hmmm, front and back?"
"Yes, sir."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"Sure, then," the old man said with a nod.
Jake returned the nod. "See you tomorrow, then."
***
Nicolette pulled her car into the camping spot a few hours after dark, exhaustion weighing heavily on her after finishing her second job. The familiar growl of her stomach reminded her of how little she had eaten, and with a resigned sigh, she rummaged through a box until she found a pouch of tuna. Unappealing as it was, it would have to do—hunger didn’t leave room for picky choices.
As she sat in the dim glow of her car’s interior light, she noticed that Jake wasn’t visible tonight. His little camp setup, however, had expanded—he now had a tent and a second tote added to his collection of worldly possessions. The sight made her wonder briefly how he managed to improve his situation so quickly.
Nicolette finished her sad excuse for a meal, crumpling the empty pouch into a ball and tossing it into a bag. She grabbed her things and trudged over to the smelly concrete block bathrooms, the chill of the night air biting through her hoodie.
On her way back to the car, she grumbled to herself about how much she hated sleeping in a cramped backseat. Maybe she should get a tent. At least then she’d be able to stretch out properly and avoid waking up stiff and sore. With that thought lingering, she climbed into the car, closed the door with a weary sigh, and prepared for another uncomfortable night.