Abby

After a while of walking to town through the thin blanket of snow that has settled over the landscape from last night, I arrive at the food drive, wearing my disguise—a baseball hat, sunglasses, and a blue surgical mask.

Actually, it's more so that the sound of the food and clothing drive reaches me before I actually reach it; it's clear to me that the community center is bustling with people, and I can hear the sounds of voices, music, and vehicles.

Up ahead, there are two lines: one filled with cars, which are pulling up to a station where workers are handing bags of clothes and boxes of food through the windows, and one where the patrons are lined up on foot.

I adjust my mask on my face and stand up on my tiptoes to see if I can spot Karl, but that's easier said than done.

Despite Karl's height, the parking lot is filled to the brim and I can barely make out the bright orange shirts of the workers. Honestly, it's surprising. I didn't expect there to be this many people here.

“Hey,” a voice says, causing me to turn. “You here for the drive, or are you here to work?"

I spin around to see a young man, maybe in his late teens, looking at me. He's got one of the orange t-shirts that say “staff” on the front worn on his thin frame, and he’s holding a clipboard in his hands.

“I'm here to work, actually,” I say.

The boy nods and hands me my own orange t-shirt from a box that he’s got next to his feet. “Just find a spot wherever,” he says. “Job's simple: everyone gets one box of food and one box of clothes. The clothes are labeled “kids’ and “adults’, so as long as you can read, you'll be fine.”

I offer him a smile as I take the t-shirt and slip it on over my head. It's about three sizes too big for me, so it goes on easily over my disguise.

As I make my way through the crowd, I finally spot Karl. He's in the thick of it, working tirelessly to help those in need.

My heart warms at the sight of him, so different from the man I used to know, the Alpha who once claimed that volunteering was “below his pay grade.’

Suddenly, I realize that I can't stay mad at him as I watch him interact with an elderly woman. He's got a warm smile on his face, and she’s laughing at something he’s saying. The woman then walks away, and Karl turns away to sort through a box.

I come up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. He turns, and after squinting his eyes at me for a moment, his expression changes to a mixture of surprise and excitement when he realizes that it's me.

"Abby," he says, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I thought you weren't gonna come.”

I tilt my head and give him a playful grin even though he can't see it. “Changed my mind,” I reply, my voice muffled by the mask.

Karl chuckles and shakes his head. “You really are something, you know that?"

I lower my sunglasses just enough for him to see my raised eyebrow. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

He laughs again. “Definitely a compliment,” he says. “But Abby, if you help me here, people might start thinking you're the Luna again, and it could be a hassle, just like you said.”

“Don’t worry, I've got my disguise on,” I say, tapping my baseball hat. “I learned a thing or two from someone who used to go incognito all the time for me.”

Karl raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, did you now? Well, in that case, what's your fake name for today, Miss Incognito?”

I give it a moment of thought, then offer a playful suggestion. “How about... Jane?"

Karl chuckles. “Very creative, Jane Doe,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

With that, Karl shows me the ropes. Just like the kid at the front of the parking lot said, it's obscenely simple: there are boxes of food and bags of clothes, each one clearly labeled. All I need to do is pay attention to who's next in line, and give them the appropriate clothes.

"Unfortunately, they don't really get a say on the clothes,” Karl says as he explains it to me. “But they can always re-donate stuff they don't want. Oh, and if someone is looking for baby stuff, direct them over there.”

As he speaks, he points over to the front door of the community center, where there's a booth just for baby things: clothes, toys, blankets, formula, anything like that. I make a mental note to remember that, and return to my task at hand.

The day flies by faster than I realize, what with how many people are coming and going. However, I can't help but notice how Karl interacts with the recipients.

He's not just handing out food; he’s actually taking the time to chat with them, ask about their families, and offer a kind word or two. It seems as though he really cares, and I hope that's really the case and it's not just for publicity.

At one point, after a family of three passes by and thanks Alpha Karl for his contributions, there's a lull in activity.

I glance over at Karl, nudging him with my elbow to get his attention. “You've surprised me today,” I say.

He looks at me, a hint of shock in his eyes. “Oh? Have 17"

I nod. “Yeah, you have. You never would've done something like this in the past. And you've got a way with people, I'll give you that.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth in his expression. “Well, I guess I've learned a thing or two from someone,” he says.

His words made me blush, but there's no time to dwell on it; there's another wave of people coming, and the day is almost over. We don't want to be sending people away at closing time, so we decide to move faster.

Before I know it, another hour has passed. My back and my feet are sore and there's a light layer of sweat under my clothes, and I'm dying to rip this damn disguise off, but it still feels good. It's a reminder of what it was like when I was a Luna, and in a strange way, I guess I do miss it just a little bit—minus the publicity.

As the day draws to a close, however, I look over to see that Karl is gone. Frowning, I look around, but don't see him. Did he go home? Did something happen?

“Care to join me, Jane?”

The sound of his voice snaps me out of my reverie, and I whirl around to see Karl standing behind me.

He's got a cheeky grin on his face and two cups of something hot in each of his hands. I can see the tendrils of steam curling out of each cup, and judging from the smell, I can guess what it is.

Hot apple cider; my favorite.

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