"Well, girls, let's get ready," the manager announced.
"Is Liliana coming in today?" Maya asked. Liliana was another worker, but she only came when the bar was full and we needed extra help, or sometimes to deliver cakes.
I help out in the kitchen, and sometimes I cover the cashier, though that's usually Maya's job. The manager absolutely loves to bake. When I'm with her in the kitchen, she looks so passionate about making cakes, and they always come out perfect.
She once told me to always put my emotions into preparing a cake. "It will taste delicious," she'd said, "and the person who eats it will feel the emotions you wanted to give it."
It's a beautiful thought, though I'm not really good at showing my true feelings to others.
I never gave up; I tried. I wanted to express my feelings through the cake, but it was always a fail. "You're doing it the wrong way," she always told me. But what am I doing wrong? Are feelings that important? I can understand people completely; I don't need to see their emotions, and I certainly don't need to show them mine. What she kept telling me went in one ear and out the other; it's useless, I'm sure of it.
The bar was finally ready to open. I went outside and flipped the sign that still read "Closed."