angel || l.huntzberger

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"star?"

There were a lot of things I never thought I would do in college. I never thought that I would actually enjoy Russian Lit class. I never thought that I'd get wasted at a party and spend the night at a rich guy's house. I never thought that I'd get diagnosed with cancer. And I never thought that I'd have to quit my job, which was what I was about to do. 

I was truly dreading telling Joan the news. I'd called in sick for almost three whole weeks now, and I couldn't keep doing it. It wasn't fair on Joan at all. Since my first heavy dose of chemo, I had spent a whole week throwing up and feeling like absoute crap, doing all of my classwork from a laptop and trying to figure out what my next steps were. Not my next steps with treatment, but my next steps with everything else. School, work, friends, all of that stuff. 

I was feeling not too terrible, so I decided to just face the music and go to Zoomers, the gorgeous little diner that I had grown to love and call a home. Literally a home, like I lived above the diner for a year. I drove there, uniform sitting nicely folded in the passenger seat, along with my beloved rollerblades, silently dreading the conversation that was to come with one of my dearest friends in the whole world. 

I stepped inside, hearing the familiar bell ding above me as the pale woman at the counter looked up at me and melted in relief, letting out an exasperated sigh and practically sprinting up to envelop me in a motherly hug. "Oh, Stella, dear! I've been so worried about you!"

I hugged her back lightly. "Um, can we go talk... out the back?" I asked akwardly, taking notice of the odd looks we were getting from the few customers in the room.

She nodded seriously, her hand falling to my shoulder and leading me to the back room. "Where have you been? Is everything okay? You look pale, Honey. Have you been eating enough?" She immediately bombarded me with worried queries as she sat me down at the small table we had in the staff room. 

"Joan, calm down," I replied, trying to muster up a small smile. My tongue swiped over my top lip before pursing them as tears began to well in my eyes at the words I was trying to get out. "I'm quitting."

Her hand shakily made it's way to her lips. She tilted her head to the side in shock and confusion. "Stella... What? Why? Are you okay? What's happened to you?"

I wiped my tears away, shaking my head. "Joan, I'm sick. I'm really sick. And it's not fair on you if I keep working here, and call in to be covered every other shift. I can't do that to you, I'm sorry."

"Oh, honey..." The kind woman began to tear up too. "It's okay. You don't have to quit. Not until after you graduate or find another job."

"I can't keep working here, Joan. I couldn't do that to you."

She shook her head. "You walked in here a year ago. Through that very door right there. You were wearing the same shirt you have on today, do you remember that?"

I thought for a second, remembering that day, but not to as much detail as she did. The woman took my hand in her's, gently stroking her thumb over the back of it. "And you said that you needed a job. You had no resume. No references. Why in my right mind would I ever hire this kid? But there was something about you. You had this... this drive. This determination. I couldn't just leave you stranded."