Status: Done! :)
Unexpected
2
“I need that hamburger, ASAP!” I called to the cook, Roger, as I took a couple of plates from the shelf in between the kitchen and the front desk. The white plate seared my hands, and I winced, taking in a sharp breath, before making my way to the table the meals belonged to.
“Enjoy,” I smiled, putting the plates down in front of the appropriate people. The thing about pain while working was that you just had to grin, bear it, and hope that you still had nerve function after the ordeal took place.
“Hamburger!” Roger announced, hitting the bell on the side of the shelf. Sighing, I went to retrieve the plate and quickly got it where it needed to be before the customer threw a fit.
Soon, though never quite soon enough, the lunch rush was over, and I was finally allowed to breathe. I sat on the seat in front of the little serving bar that we had, spinning back and forth a little as I remembered what had happened this morning.
It was almost unreal, seeing Cam again. Scratch that. It was unreal. When he moved all the way to California to attend Stanford, I had just figured that he would stay there, being all successful. But the pressure of Stanford’s high bar of academics was just too much for him.
Not that I was complaining. Cam made me feel like a teenager again, what with the fluttery stomach and cold extremities that told me it was time for to flee. It felt nice.
“Laylaaaa,” Ashley, the manager, sing-songed. She was a really sweet woman with blonde hair that she pulled back into a tight ponytail and dark gray eyes that could change color, depending on her mood. And though she was only in her early thirties, she always seemed infinitely wiser than me, as if I could never possibly hope to have all the knowledge that she possessed. “Who are you thinking about?”
“What? No one!” I rushed to defend, but I knew it was completely unconvincing. It didn’t help matters that my face was heating as it turned an embarrassing pink.
“Mhm.” She smirked at me knowingly, her eyebrow raised, until I finally sighed.
“Just, this morning…I saw a friend that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I thought that I was over him, but…turns out I’m not.”
“I can’t even tell you how many times that has happened to girls,” Ashley laughed. “So when are you going to see him next?”
“Tonight, actually. We’re going to catch up and stuff. You know, friend stuff.”
I got another skeptical raised eyebrow. “Yeah, alright. Well, if you like him, you gotta tell him. Especially if he’s cute. In a big city like this, he won’t stay single long. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, hostile about the fact that she was right. I didn’t want some other girl to come into the picture. It was hard enough through high school, watching him go from girlfriend to girlfriend while I secretly wanted him for myself. I wasn’t about to continue that ritual into adulthood.
“Now, as lovely as this little girl talk was, you got table fourteen.” She slapped my butt playfully before she walked away, exclaiming, “Get to work!”
Chuckling lightly, I made my way to the table, plastering a huge smile on my face. “Hello, I’m Layla. I’ll be your server for this afternoon. Can I start you off with some drinks?”
* * *
Later that night, I was going through my closet, surveying the few dresses I had. One was automatically out because I had worn it to my homecoming senior year. That was the year that Cam had taken me because the girl he asked bailed out at the last second with the excuse that her mother had been in a car crash. I felt kind of badly about how happy I was about it, but I couldn’t take that back.
Finally, I came across one that I had bought kind of recently for a date with a guy that I met at the restaurant. We didn’t end up actually going out because I found out he was married when he went to visit me the day of the date at work. But the dress was still pretty, strapless and shimmery dark blue. The dress cinched just below my bust and flowed until a little more than halfway down my thigh.
Right upon looking at it, I knew that I was going to wear it. I didn’t care if Cam didn’t think of it as a date. Because that was how I was going to take it.
It took me a while to get ready, since I actually took the time to curl my naturally straight light brown hair. Though I usually didn’t wear too much makeup, I put it on generously, consciously knowing that I was working to play up my dark green eyes.
While I was in the middle of curling my eyelashes, my phone played a brief snippet of “Sherri” by Billy Idol. I threw the metal contraption onto the sink and hurried to see what Cam had texted me.
Alright, he wrote, so how does red lobster sound 730?
I rolled my eyes. Of course he would go straight for seafood. He was crazy about the stuff. Sounds fine see u then. I snapped my phone shut and went back for the bathroom, trying to ignore the jittery feeling that was starting to sink in. It was only six o’clock. There would be time to fret later.
As of then, what I really needed to do was finish my makeup and make sure that I didn’t need to go to the bank.
“Enjoy,” I smiled, putting the plates down in front of the appropriate people. The thing about pain while working was that you just had to grin, bear it, and hope that you still had nerve function after the ordeal took place.
“Hamburger!” Roger announced, hitting the bell on the side of the shelf. Sighing, I went to retrieve the plate and quickly got it where it needed to be before the customer threw a fit.
Soon, though never quite soon enough, the lunch rush was over, and I was finally allowed to breathe. I sat on the seat in front of the little serving bar that we had, spinning back and forth a little as I remembered what had happened this morning.
It was almost unreal, seeing Cam again. Scratch that. It was unreal. When he moved all the way to California to attend Stanford, I had just figured that he would stay there, being all successful. But the pressure of Stanford’s high bar of academics was just too much for him.
Not that I was complaining. Cam made me feel like a teenager again, what with the fluttery stomach and cold extremities that told me it was time for to flee. It felt nice.
“Laylaaaa,” Ashley, the manager, sing-songed. She was a really sweet woman with blonde hair that she pulled back into a tight ponytail and dark gray eyes that could change color, depending on her mood. And though she was only in her early thirties, she always seemed infinitely wiser than me, as if I could never possibly hope to have all the knowledge that she possessed. “Who are you thinking about?”
“What? No one!” I rushed to defend, but I knew it was completely unconvincing. It didn’t help matters that my face was heating as it turned an embarrassing pink.
“Mhm.” She smirked at me knowingly, her eyebrow raised, until I finally sighed.
“Just, this morning…I saw a friend that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I thought that I was over him, but…turns out I’m not.”
“I can’t even tell you how many times that has happened to girls,” Ashley laughed. “So when are you going to see him next?”
“Tonight, actually. We’re going to catch up and stuff. You know, friend stuff.”
I got another skeptical raised eyebrow. “Yeah, alright. Well, if you like him, you gotta tell him. Especially if he’s cute. In a big city like this, he won’t stay single long. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, hostile about the fact that she was right. I didn’t want some other girl to come into the picture. It was hard enough through high school, watching him go from girlfriend to girlfriend while I secretly wanted him for myself. I wasn’t about to continue that ritual into adulthood.
“Now, as lovely as this little girl talk was, you got table fourteen.” She slapped my butt playfully before she walked away, exclaiming, “Get to work!”
Chuckling lightly, I made my way to the table, plastering a huge smile on my face. “Hello, I’m Layla. I’ll be your server for this afternoon. Can I start you off with some drinks?”
* * *
Later that night, I was going through my closet, surveying the few dresses I had. One was automatically out because I had worn it to my homecoming senior year. That was the year that Cam had taken me because the girl he asked bailed out at the last second with the excuse that her mother had been in a car crash. I felt kind of badly about how happy I was about it, but I couldn’t take that back.
Finally, I came across one that I had bought kind of recently for a date with a guy that I met at the restaurant. We didn’t end up actually going out because I found out he was married when he went to visit me the day of the date at work. But the dress was still pretty, strapless and shimmery dark blue. The dress cinched just below my bust and flowed until a little more than halfway down my thigh.
Right upon looking at it, I knew that I was going to wear it. I didn’t care if Cam didn’t think of it as a date. Because that was how I was going to take it.
It took me a while to get ready, since I actually took the time to curl my naturally straight light brown hair. Though I usually didn’t wear too much makeup, I put it on generously, consciously knowing that I was working to play up my dark green eyes.
While I was in the middle of curling my eyelashes, my phone played a brief snippet of “Sherri” by Billy Idol. I threw the metal contraption onto the sink and hurried to see what Cam had texted me.
Alright, he wrote, so how does red lobster sound 730?
I rolled my eyes. Of course he would go straight for seafood. He was crazy about the stuff. Sounds fine see u then. I snapped my phone shut and went back for the bathroom, trying to ignore the jittery feeling that was starting to sink in. It was only six o’clock. There would be time to fret later.
As of then, what I really needed to do was finish my makeup and make sure that I didn’t need to go to the bank.