Lucky

Jenny hastily handed the balding man his change, slammed the register closed, and turned to face me, her arms folded together, the same grin she’d had since I came in that Monday morning still etched on her face.

“So what happened after that? Did you just leave? Oh, God, please tell me you didn’t just leave. Tell me, Sara, please.”

Lenny the Cook laughed at her as he scooped some fried rice into a Styrofoam box, but she just shot him the stink eye before egging me on with her hands.

“Well, I started to leave—”

“Seriously? Without saying anything?”

“But he called out, ‘Goodnight, Non-Asian Yummi’s Girl!’ Like, yelled it from the bar.”

Jenny cooed loudly, squarely ignoring the waiting customer behind her as he lightly cleared his throat. “I think it’s cute. I’m telling you,” she said, pointing a finger at me before turning around to take the patient man’s order, “he likes you.”

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, playing with a piece of my hair that had come out of my ponytail. I pinched the collar of my old, grease-stained A Day To Remember shirt that I always wore at work, fanning myself. The air conditioning was on the fritz and the temperature inside next to the stove was about eighty-five degrees. I could already feel a few beads of sweat as they trickled down my back.

The door chimed as two boys in plaid noisily sauntered in, laughing hysterically. The door chimed once again, and with a blush creeping up his neck, in strolled Szechuan Beef Guy… er, Maxx.

“Shut up, Zach,” he chided, punching one of his band’s guitarists in the shoulder. Zach kept laughing to himself, his stringy black hair whipping across his forehead as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, man. I couldn’t help it. It was just too easy,” he got out between laughs as they walked up behind a man in a suit as he paid for his lunch.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jenny give me a surreptitious thumbs-up behind her back. I ignored her overly optimistic gesture and turned to answer the phone, grabbing the notepad next to the register. As I reached for it, Maxx and I briefly made eye contact, and the side of his mouth perked up into a half-smile as he raised a hand in greeting. I smiled back, but quickly retreated to the phone, which now had a second person waiting on the other line.

By the time I was done taking the second person’s order and jotting down their address, Maxx, Zach, and who I recognized as Door Guy Andrew had sat down at one of the booths in the squeaky vinyl chairs, their order number on the end of the table as they sipped on their sodas. It was already almost two, so I decided to take my thirty minute lunch break and join them, as it seemed as they weren’t in a hurry to get back to whatever band guys do when not playing concerts.

“Jenny?”

“Yeah?” she asked, looking up from her Sudoku puzzle as she jotted down another number. Jenny was a math whiz and went through a whole book of Sudoku puzzles at least every two weeks. I would never have passed senior year Trig without her.

“I’m taking lunch. Can you man the phone?”

She nodded and smirked, probably already imagining a scenario in her head where I join Maxx and his friends for lunch, ending in us getting married and having ten ginger kids running around.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Lenny!” I called over my shoulder, undoing my waist apron behind my back.

“Yeah, carina?”

“Is there any extra fried rice back here? Or some egg rolls? Preferably both,” I hastily added, hanging up the apron and standing next to Lenny as he stirred Maxx’s Szechuan beef in the wok. “That burrito you made me last week with the leftover chicken didn’t settle well.”

“Yeah, Sara. Here,” he said, scooping Maxx’s lunch into the last Styrofoam box and pushing the other two towards me, “take these out there. Order 59.” He turned around and grabbed an extra Styrofoam plate, scooping some of the fried rice we kept in a kettle into it and topping it with three egg rolls. “Your lunch, here.”

“Thanks, Lenny.”

“Not a problem, darling,” he replied, winking.

I grabbed a tray and piled the boxes on top, balancing it together as I put my plate on top and backed my way out of the kitchen through the swinging door.

“There she is!” Maxx called when he saw me, grinning like an idiot.

I walked over to their booth and took the order number tab, sticking it into my front pocket. Maxx sat across from Zach and Andrew, his arms spread across the back of the booth chair he sat in. He was wearing yet another tank top and tight jeans, the Phillies hat he was wearing moments earlier sitting next to the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“I thought you’d be more excited for the food, but okay,” I chided, setting down the tray and calling out the food orders. I gave the guys their boxes, my rice and egg rolls left on the corner of the tray.

“You on break?” Maxx hopefully asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you want me to be?” I replied, handing chop sticks and forks to the other guys.

“Yes,” he instantly replied, another smile stretching from ear to ear. “I mean, unless you’re planning on sitting with Mr. Fortune 500 over there,” he added, pointing to a man in a business suit with obviously over-dyed hair.

I giggled, tucking the tray under my arm and setting my lunch on the end of the table. “Not unless this seat is open?” I half asked, taking the order number from my pocket.

Maxx shook his head, opening the Styrofoam box with his Szechuan beef. “Nope.”

“Sweet. I’ll be right back.”

As I walked up to the counter to hand Jenny the tray and order number, she gave me a look, her eyes wide and a subtle smile on her face, slightly nodding in Maxx’s and his friends’ direction. I swear she was more excited about Maxx eating lunch than I would ever be.

“Oh! Here,” Maxx muttered, scooting farther down the booth once I came back.

“Thanks, Maxx.”

He smiled, taking a bite of his egg roll.

“So…”

“So…” I mimicked Maxx, chewing on some rice.

He lightly chuckled, but gestured to his two friends sitting across from us. “I’m guessing you remember these two bastards?”

“Zach,” I said, pointing at him, “and Door Guy Andrew.”

All three of the guys laughed, Door Guy Andrew looking a bit sheepish as he did.

“Door Guy Andrew. Nicknames abound!” Maxx said, polishing off the last of his egg roll.

“I’m not just a Door Guy,” Andrew explained, mixing his fried rice with his Sesame chicken. “I’m a triple threat.”

“Triple threat?” I asked, wiping my fingers on a napkin.

“I’m also a photographer and Set It Off’s tour manager,” he said, brushing his hands over his jeans.

“Yeah, someone’s gotta be the mom on the road,” Zach joked. Maxx let out an abrupt laugh.

“No, that’s really cool,” I said, spotting Andrew’s quick, sheepish look. “I’m gonna study graphic art in college. I really love photography.”

“Do you shoot?”

“Not a lot. Just stuff around the house, whatever I find interesting. It’s not like I’m setting up photo shoots with Flo Rida in my bedroom or anything,” I chuckled, pulling back a strand of my hair. The heat from the kitchen was palpable, but it was definitely cooler in the dining room. I could already feel the perspiration leave my skin.

Maxx shot me a subtle glance as he unwrapped his chopsticks. “I’d be worried for your life if Flo Rida was in your room,” he easily said.

I couldn’t help it; I let out a sharp laugh, dropping my spoon back into my plate, a few grains of rice bouncing on the table. I quickly covered my mouth, looking at Maxx as he silently laughed at his food, pleased with almost making me choke to death on my own lunch.

“Anyway. So, you remember how I said that we should hang out? But not get sodas, because that’s just lame.”

“Hey!” Zach interjected, pointing his spoon at Maxx. “That’s a sacred tradition there, bro. You’re on the verge of blasphemy.” He warningly shook his spoon at Maxx, grinning all the same.

“Whatever, man. So.” He turned to look at me again, quickly licking the duck sauce off one of his fingers. “Check it out. We’re guys, so we do guy stuff. When we hang out with girls, we still do guy stuff. So… I am formally inviting you to a Halo match-slash-tournie. And not the second or third Halo, ‘cause those were the easy versions. I’m talking the original Halo.”

“You only say that because you still haven’t been able to beat the other Haloes on Legendary,” Andrew accused, taking a sip of his Coke.

“Neither have you,” Zach muttered, laughing quietly when Andrew punched him in the shoulder.

“So, what do you say, Sara? You up for it?”

I took a last bite of my rice and licked the soy sauce I had stolen from Maxx off my spoon, turning over the idea in my head. As I was thinking about how I could get hanging out with six guys to pass with my dad, I saw Jenny waving from behind the counter, a bag of egg rolls in her hand and a Sprite in the other.

Of course. Why didn’t I think of it before?

“Sure. But, I mean, only as long as Jenny comes along.”

“Jenny?” Andrew mumbled through a mouthful of chicken.

“Asian Yummi’s Girl, dude. The one you’ve been drooling over since I brought you here.”

I heard a thump, and Maxx winced, reaching down under the table to rub his shin.

“It’s cool,” Zach said, ripping open a packet of soy sauce and dousing his Kung Pao chicken in it. “More people, the merrier. Or however the kids say it these days.”

Maxx grinned, scooping up the last of his rice. “Yeah, definitely. That’ll put the tournie count to… eight.” He nodded his head, reaching for his soda and taking a generous sip. “It’s perfect.”

“Dude, this is gonna be awesome.” Andrew stabbed a chopstick into a piece of chicken, popping it into his mouth. “Wef halso…” He swallowed and took a quick sip of soda. “We also make bets.”

“Not much, though,” Zach clarified. I could see Jenny walk up from the counter out of the corner of my eye. “Fifty bucks is the cutoff.”

“We’re poor band dudes. Money’s tight,” Maxx said, spotting Jenny pulling up a chair from an adjacent table. “Jenny! That’s your name, right?”

Jenny started, the bag of egg rolls in her hand dropping to the floor. She quickly picked them up and scooted the chair to the end of the booth, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Yeah, that’d be me,” she said, uncapping her Sprite. “What’s up?”

“We were just talking about the Halo tournie we’re having next Monday,” Zach said, still mixing the soy sauce with his chicken. “Think you’re game?”

Jenny snuck a glance at me, and I just shrugged, rounding in the last of the rice on my plate.

“I guess. I mean, only if my aunt lets us 0ff work.”

“Your aunt owns this place?” Maxx asked, taking a bite of another egg roll.

“Yeah,” Jenny said, pulling out one of her own. “Family owned and operated since 1996.”

I glimpsed at Andrew: he was staring at his Sesame chicken, aimlessly stirring it with his rice. He hadn’t said a word, only sneaking a glance or two at Jenny. He really did seem to have a crush on her; Maxx wasn’t kidding.

“Think you could get us valued customers a discount?” Maxx asked, giving her a subtle wink. I lightly smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand, rolling my eyes.

“No,” she easily stated, grinning back.

It surprised me that it was already so easy to be friendly with Maxx. Not that I consider backhanding someone’s shoulder friendship, but the simple, back-and-forth relationship we already had kind of surprised me. I wasn’t friends with many kids from my high school, mostly because I went from public middle school straight to All Saints’ Prep and was known as the “new kid” for much of my high school career. I was really only friends with Jenny, and it had been like that for four years already. But the one thing that surprised me about Maxx was that even with those stupid diamond studs he always wore, he didn’t seem like a douche bag. I was too quick to judge and I only started to realize this as I spent my lunch with him and his friends.

By the time Maxx and his buddies had finished scarfing down their food and walked out the door, Andrew taking a fleeting look through the store window at Jenny as she cleaned up the napkins they left on the table, I felt a bit guilty about making an opinion of Maxx before I ever actually held a conversation with him. Yes, in my limited experience, guys with diamond studs were usually complete tools, but Maxx was different. He seemed like a nice enough guy to be great friends with. But it’s not like Jenny didn’t have any other inclinations.

“You totally want to bone Maxx.”

“W-w-what?” I stuttered, turning around from the trashcans by the entrance. “No. No, I don’t,” I assured her, tucking the leftover trays on top of the bins under my arm. “That’s insane.”

“No, what’s insane is you trying to deny it,” she sang, running over to the counter and reaching to grab the table cleaner next to the cash register.

“Okay, then. What about Andrew?” I suggested smugly.

Her smile quickly disappeared, her eyes wide and innocent. “What about Andrew?”

“You know ‘what about Andrew,’” I quipped, setting the trays on the counter next to the fortune cookies. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him if you wanted to,” I stated confidently, grinning and setting my hands on my hips.

“Now, don’t you go changing the subject,” she said, pointing a finger at me after she tossed a rag over her shoulder.

I smirked, nodding over to Lenny as he scrubbed some grease off of one of the stoves. “Lenny, did you see Jenny staring at Andrew?”

“Who? The quiet blond boy?” he piped up, crinkling his mustache as smoke came from the seared sponge in his hand.

“Yup.”

“Was it supposed to be secret?”

I chuckled when Jenny slugged my shoulder, then headed to the counter with the condiments and utensils.

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to look at Szechuan Beef Guy and all of a sudden you’re gonna want to mack him.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms.

“You think that now, but one day, it’s gonna be like, BAM!” She wildly shook her hands over her head, grinning like an idiot. “And then you’re gonna come crying to me because you don’t know if he likes you or not—”

“Uh-huh.”

“—which he does. Heels-over-head.”

I shook my head, silently laughing at Jenny’s antics. But I suddenly stopped, grimacing disappointedly. “Wait. Now that I think of it, how are you going to get Miss Xiong to let us both off at the same time?”

“Oh.”

Jenny knew what I was referring to. The last time that ever happened was when we both got the flu at the same time last year (in hindsight, probably from each other) and we had to have two days off apiece. Miss Xiong still calls it the worst two days of her life. She even started keeping a special herbal tea and Airborne under the counter after that in case we felt even the slightest bit queasy.

“Well, maybe… Maybe we could both fake sick?”

I raised an eyebrow, shooting her a questioning smile.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbled, spraying the counter. “Well, I mean, shouldn’t we get vacation or something?”

“Our vacation—”

“—is school. Right, right,” she finished, moving over to the next table that the old Forbes man was sitting at before. “Ugh. I just… I don’t know how we can get past her.”

“And if she lets only me off, my mom wouldn’t even think of letting me hang out with a huge group of guys,” I said, straightening out the chop sticks. “Especially a group of guys that didn’t go to Catholic school.”

“Bummer.”

“Mhmm.”

“And I was really looking forward to staring at Andrew the entire time, too.”

I laughed, shoving her shoulder before running back to my spot behind the counter as a young family walked through the door, the dinner rush already starting up.