Melt Your Headaches, Call It Work

“I cannot believe I am staying with my mother,” I groaned, dropping my head onto the counter of Starbucks. It was ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning, exactly a week after being kicked out of the apartment. Jon chuckled behind my, turning the page of his magazine.

“It’s not that bad,” Jon smirked. “You could be living with Hyper-Smoothie Boy.” Jon was referring to the boy who worked at the Smoothie Hut across the street.

“No, I’d much rather live with him than my mother,” I replied, head still on the counter top. “Last night, she made me watch home videos. I mean, enough is enough! I don’t want to see my first Christmas! And my dad just sat there, laughing to himself!” Jon patted my shoulder, snickering.

“And that, my dear Libby, is why I live with my girlfriend. Sorry about that.”

“Jon, would you care to adopt a homeless girl?” I begged, straightening up. “I promise I’m house trained and everything!”

“Sorry, Mel and I have our hands full already with Clover and Dylan,” Jon shrugged. “Wish I could.”

“Butt-head,” I snapped, dropping my head back to the counter. The bell above the door rang, signalizing that a customer had entered the café.

“Butt head? Was that really necessary?” Jon teased. I ignored his comment and focused on the wood work under my forehead.

“Jon, did you kill my Libs?” Spencer laughed, tapping me on the head. I lifted my hand and flipped him off.

“Jon, inform that man that I refuse to speak with him,” I announced. “He blew me off on Friday Movie Night for a girl he’s only known for a year compared to his best friend since diapers.”

“Spencer, Libby refuses to speak with you because you are blowing her off on Friday Movie Night for a girl you’ve only known for a year compared to your best friend since diapers,” Jon repeated dully. “And geez, Spencer, that’s just mean.”

“Libs, stop being a prima Donna and get over it. I already told you, Crystal had her dance recital and I promised her I’d go. You were welcomed to come.” Unable to help myself, I lifted my head off the counter.

“That’s what she said!” I crowed, pointing at the bitch faced Spencer. Jon burst into laugher while I broke into my happy dance, alighted at the fact that I had managed to pull off a good joke.

“You dork.” I grinned at my laughing best friend before jumping over the counter.

“So, did the girlfriend let you off her leash?”

“It’s not like that, Libs, and you know it,” Spencer sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting so his legs were on either side of the back. “I love her and she loves me.”

“Yeah, but she hates me,” I pitched in. “She called me Lizzie for at least three months!” Jon snorted in laughter and I punched his arm. “It wasn’t funny!”

“That was an honest mistake!” Spencer protested. “She met you in a bar! It was loud, and she didn’t hear your name properly!”

“I corrected her each time.”

“Yeah, the girl’s out to get you,” Jon concluded, jumping so as to sit on the counter. Spencer scowled, and I giggled.

“Libby, Haley does not hate you!” Spencer growled. “Now drop it.” Sensing that I had pissed him off more than usual, I bit my tongue.

“Aw, Spence, I’m sorry,” I apologize, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You’re right, she doesn’t hate me, you aren’t whipped, and pigs do fly.”

“I told you!” Spencer’s was as bright as a kid’s on Christmas morning before it fell into a first class bitch face. “Hey!”

“Okay, that was my last one, I promise!” Holding up my fingers in Scout’s honor, I made an x over my heart, too. The chime of the bells caused us all to jump, me and Jon scurrying back to work.

A tall man with large, doe eyes the color of amber and creamy skin approached the counter, hot pink flyers tucked under a thin arm. He was clad in a navy blue sweater with a white tee-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans. His light brown hair was tussled, and it was littered with purple glitter. He was gorgeous, other than the fact that he was sparkling.

“What can I getcha?” I asked, trying not to stare at the glitter. He glanced at the menu over my head before scratching his head.

“Um, what would you recommend?” he muttered in a deep voice.

“Hm...” I strummed my fingers, thinking. “Jon, what do you think?”

“Get a mocha, extra hot with no whip,” he replied nonchalantly. Jon was a whiz when it came to coffee. He has been employee of the month for at least tne months straight. “It’s delicious, trust me.”

“Okay, I’ll get that in a medium size,” the man shrugged. I cringed as I grabbed the proper cup and scribbled his order on the side. I hated it when people refused to use the sizes. I mean, honestly, it’s tall, grande, and venti. Not that hard to remember!

“Can I get your name?” Please, dear God, let him give me his name! I thought, my pen poised over the side.

“Ryan,” he grinned. That beautiful smirk made my knees grow weak, and from behind Ryan, Spencer snorted rather loudly.

“Bless you,” I growled, looking around Ryan to glare at the snickering Spencer. Ryan looked startled, but brushed it off and handed me a five dollar bill. I gave him his change and handed Jon the cup for him to start making the drink.

While waiting for his drink, Ryan walked to the bulletin board and stuck one of his flyers against the cork. Admiring his handy work, he reread the words printed on the page before turning to grab his drink from the counter and leaving with a slight wave.

We all waited until he had gotten into his Volvo and drove off before we dove for the bulletin board, wrestling to read the flyer first.

Wanted: One nanny to care for six year old girl (Little experience needed)
Free board and meals
Call: 1-345-979-2837 for more details, ask for Ryan Ross

“A nanny, huh?” Spencer was leaning over my shoulder, his fingers tracing the words printed on the paper. Jon’s head was tucked under my arm, his face scrunched in concentration.

"Well, that explains the glitter," I muttered, still squinting at the flyer.

“Libs, you should take that job,” he suggested. “You’d get paid to watch a kid, you’d have a place to stay, and you could shamelessly drool over that Ryan guy!”

“Um, no way in hell. First of all, he has a kid. And secondly, my mother can be annoying, but it’s not bad enough to take some kind of job like that,” I scoffed, walking back to behind the counter. “I’m not that desperate, you know.”