Boy Next Door

“I can’t believe the news today
Oh, I can’t close my eyes
And make it go away
How long…
How long must we sing this song?
How long, how long…
‘Cause tonight, we can be as one
Tonight…” (U2 Sunday Bloody Sunday) my IHome sang out. I rolled over onto my side to see the small numbers 6:01 a.m. flashing on the screen of my gray IHome. I threw my blue and green covers off of my lazy body. I got up and walked over to my bathroom. I turned on the hot water in my shower and stripped myself of my clothes. I let the small room fill with steam before stepping into the shower. I thought about the day ahead of me. Today was my last day of exams. My heart started pounding as soon as thought of what exam I would be taking today: athletic rehabilitation. It was the hardest class I had, and if I didn’t pass it, I wouldn’t be able to advance to my last year at NYU. I had already taken my photography, criminology, and forensics exams. Yes, I had managed to be doing just about everything in college. I am majoring in photographing, athletic rehabilitation, and forensics, and I am minoring in criminology.

I got out of the shower and put on my black NYU sweatpants and a New York Rangers tee-shirt. Yes, I am a huge Rangers fan. I grew up in a small town a little South of Toronto. I always got abuse from my family because they were all Ottawa Senators fans. Lastly, I grabbed my New York Giants 2007 Super Bowl Champions sweatshirt. I went over to my sink and blow-dried my naturally straight dark-brown hair. I pulled my hair back in a messy bun. My phone started vibrating; causing me to jump from the loud noise it produced. I reached out to grab to grab one second to late. My silver LG Shine fell to the floor. I bent own to pick it up. I placed the battery back in it along with the back of the phone. I flipped my phone over to the front and noticed three cracks on the screen. Just my luck. I turned my phone on and looked at the message that caused my phone to fall off the counter. It was a message from my soccer coach saying that we had a three hour practice after all our exams are over. Great. My coach would find a loop hole about having practice during exams. It wasn’t even soccer season. I mean, we have hour training sessions three times a week in the off season, but not three-hour practices.

I looked over to my clock and noticed it was getting late, so I grabbed my soccer bag and my black backpack of off the kitchen chair, grabbed a granola bar, and headed towards the door. I grabbed the worn gold knob and turned it. I pushed open the door revealing the long hallway of doors. That’s all you see here are white doors with gold numbers on them. Nobody here was very social. They were all to busy working on their Wall Street jobs. I had managed to get into one of the nicest apartment complexes in Manhattan. I occasionally heard people at the apartment across from me, but I never met the person who it was.
I walked into the hallway and started walking over to the big silver doors at the other end of the hallway. I pushed the small, white button with the down arrow on it. The doors gracefully slid open and I walked into the small metal box. I pushed the worn ‘G’ button for the car garage. I heard a man yell to hold the elevator, so being the nice person I am, I did. Good karma you know.

He ran into the elevator and the doors slid closed. He mumbled a simple thanks and I said your welcome in return. I looked up at the man who I had just held the door for. I practically died when I did. He had strawberry blonde hair and the cutest smile ever. The best thing was, he was favorite defenseman for the New York Rangers, Marc Staal! I didn’t want to make a fool of myself, so I just kept my mouth shut. We didn’t say anything to each other as we went to our cars. I went to my silver RAV4 and he went to whatever kind of car he had. I hopped into my car and started the engine, then off I went to my hardest exam I have.

I walked into the local dinner I worked at in just a pair of black Diadora soccer shorts and a neon green NYU soccer shirt. Even though it is the middle of February, I didn’t even have a coat. I had gotten home from my three hour practice, taken a shower, and came to my job as a waitress here at the diner. I went to the back to let my boss know I had arrived. I always make sure that I am extremely nice to my boss. She IS the best boss ever. Knowing that I have an always changing schedule, I have very flexible hours. I always end up making up the hours I missed, but that is because I make her let me. Tonight I will be working until three, when the diner closed, because I am coming to work late. I went to the lockers in the very far corner of the kitchen where the employees’ put there stuff. I pulled my hair back into another messy side-bun. I grabbed a pen, put it behind my ear, and reached back into the locker to grab my writing pad. I left my apron behind as I walked back to a very busy night at the diner.

I walked back into the main area of the diner. This place always seemed to put a smile on my face. Being at the diner always made me feel like I was back home. Unlike every other place in Manhattan, this place felt like you were really in a residential area. The people here were real. They had real personalities and real lives. The best of all, they were happy. The people on Wall Street are always complaining that their house isn’t big enough, or that there job is so stressful. “Danielle, you have a couple at table 5,” my boss said, knocking me out of my trance. I walked over to the little booth in the front of the restaurant by the window.

“Hi, my name is Danielle. I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked the elderly couple being as polite as I possibly could. I flashed a smile at them, making it seem that I really loved my job, which I did. I just know that if I make them believe that I love my job, they’ll give me a bigger tip. I took their order of two ice teas with a lemon and went back into the kitchen. I grabbed to glasses and headed over to the soda machine. I filled up the glasses and went back to the table to give the couple their drinks.

The rest of the night was just like any other Friday night: busy. Friday was the day that all the families wanted to go out to dinner. Although I make more tips, Fridays are probably my least favorite day to work at the diner. On Fridays I don’t have time to get to know the customers because I am constantly going from table to table. Most of the people that come here end up becoming regulars, so being friendly has its bonuses.

The night went by in a whirl. There was no time to stop, no time to think, only time to run from table to table getting and delivering orders. It’s one in the morning now, and the diner is finally starting to empty. I just had three tables finishing up. I wanted to go and talk to my best friend Ashley, but she wasn’t here. She wasn’t at practice either, so I figured she was sick. I sat down in the small little booth in the far corner of the diner. It’s where Ash and I always sat when the restaurant was slowing down. I took a sip of my ice-water and set it back down on the table. I ran my fingers up and down the glass, wiping the condensation off of it. I heard footsteps approaching me. I looked up to see my boss, Krista, staring at me. “Danielle, you have another table. I sat them down in the round corner booth.”

“Okay Krista. Thanks,” I said a little shocked and a little upset. I was shocked because no one usually came in at this time, and I was upset because I planned on making something to eat. I am starving! Ignoring my stomachs request for food, I got up and went to the table to get their orders.

“Hi, I’m Danielle; I’ll be your waitress today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” I asked while grabbing the pen from behind my ear and looking down at my writing pad to se if I had something written on the top sheet. I looked up at the group at the table, not looking at the people, just to see how many there were. It was a group of four guys.

“See guys, I told you we should come here!” the guy on my right explained. I chuckled as the other guys threw in their you’re right’s. I looked up the man signaling I was ready to take his order. He ordered water as did the other four guys. I went back into the kitchen and asked someone else to get the waters for me. I was to busy flipping out. I had just taken the orders of Brandon Dubinsky, Matt Gilroy, Michael Del Zotto, and Marc Staal! I calmed myself down, grabbed the tray of water and walked back out to the table.

“Here you go guys,” I said as I handed them their waters. “Do you need some more time, or are you ready to order?” I asked. So far, so good. I hadn’t made a complete idiot of myself yet.

“I think we need some time,” Michael Del Zotto said running a hand through his curly, brown hair.

“Okay, I’ll come back in a few minutes,” I said while turning on my heel to go back to the kitchen.

“Hey, do you want to sit with us? The place seems pretty lonely if you ask me,” Brandon Dubinsky asked me. These guys were so nice.

“Sure,” I replied cheerfully while pulling a chair up to the booth. “So, did you guys have practice or something, or did I miss a game?” I asked filling up the silence.

“We had a practice,” Matt Gilroy replied.

“That’s cool.” We chatted for a little while longer about random stuff. I asked them if they were ready to order yet, and they were. I took their orders and brought them to the chef. I asked if he could just bring them to the table for me once they were done. I headed to my locker to grab my phone before heading back to the table. I sat back down in the wooden chair as the guys all turned their heads towards me.

“I’m sorry, but are you the girl that lives in 7D?” Marc Staal asked.

“Yeah. You must be the guy living in 7E across the hall,” I replied. I made it sound like I wasn’t some obsessed fan so they wouldn’t think I was crazy. It was harder than you think.

“That’s me,” he said cheerfully. “I’m Marc Staal,” he said sticking out his hand for me to shake.

“Danielle Longola,” I replied shaking his hand. I brought my hand back to my side and started cracking my knuckles, a force of habit I always do when I’m nervous.

Silence filled the air for a few moments. I always hated silence. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it quickly when I realized I had nothing to say. “So you play soccer at NYU?” Matt asked stating the obvious.

“Yeah. They offered me a full ride, so I couldn’t really turn them down,” I explained.

“So what are you majoring in?” Brandon asked me. I hated having all of the attention on me. Always have, always will.

I took a deep breath knowing that I had a very long list. “Well, I’m majoring in photography, forensics, and athletic rehabilitation while minoring in criminology. I know it sounds like a lot, but I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet,” I admitted sheepishly. I sounded like such a loser. Who is a junior in college and doesn’t know what they want to do with their life yet.

The night wet by quickly as we talked about random things. Sadly, my shift ended at three, and being as tired as I was, I left. All five of us exchanged our numbers before I left to go back to my apartment. I quickly changed into my sweats and jumped onto my bed. I fell asleep quickly after the long day had finally ended.