Anti Blue Skies

Sunday came faster than usual, and what I really hated about my dad scheduling me to work tonight, was that it was the busiest day of the week. Fletcher’s served five dollar Grey Goose Mixers on Sundays, along with three dollar shrimp and cocktails. Basically it was a bunch of drunk college guys eating loads of shrimp, stinking up the place, and talking a whole lot of nothing.

It was like lunchtime in the high school cafeteria. There was always that long string of tables smashed together only jock guys could sit at. They weren’t drunk, but their egos were just as big, never bothering to chew with their mouths closed or respect anyone else in the room.

Harry used to sit at that table. I would sit with the same group of girls at a round table a few feet away from them. Watching the jock table eat and interact was my only form of entertainment during lunch, other than any new drama Manny was going through, like when she pledged to have a secret affair with the hot new History teacher. Otherwise, I liked watching Harry spill spaghetti sauce on his lap or throw beans at his friends, and sometimes even the occasional belch.

He truly was the worst lab partner ever, but he roamed the halls like he owned the place and I think before he made my life a living hell, I was jealous of him. My jealousy turned into lust after numerous hours of working on failed science projects together and watching him sip fake TruMoo through a straw on a daily basis.

Now, somehow he was forcing his way back into my life without an explanation. I had a very big feeling it wasn’t by coincidence, something was off. The other night he confessed he didn’t have a permanent place to live. He’s working at my dad’s restaurant and screwing my roommate. It didn’t seem fair that I disliked the idea of him, yet I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him because he was literally everywhere.

I added the finishing touches to the back of my hair, looking into a mirror to make sure it looked the way I had practiced it, then barged my way into my closet to slip on a pair of boots. I entered the kitchen, getting ready to leave for work when I noticed Quinn pouring a bowl of cereal by the counter.

“Lucky Charms for dinner?” I joked, reaching past her for my purse. She shrugged her shoulders, choosing not to say anything.

She went to open the fridge, looking for milk and scratching the back of her tangled hair. Her coon eyes took me by surprise when she turned back around to finish making her bowl of cereal. It looked like she hadn’t showered since the party two nights ago. I would have noticed sooner if she would ever come out of her room. She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and from what I could tell by the baggy stature and large stains-- Harry’s sweatpants.

She wasn’t making any effort to start a conversation with me, so I took it as my cue to leave. I got a foot through the door, but stopped when Quinn called back to me.

“Will you be seeing Harry at work?” She asked, her brows raised high.

I don’t remember seeing his name on the schedule for today, but now I was second guessing myself. I pushed my purse further up my shoulder, “I might.”

She shoved a spoonful of Lucky Charms into her mouth, chewing aggressively on the tasteful little marshmallows. A dribble of milk fell from the corner of her mouth as she casually took a seat on one of the barstools.

“If you do see him,” She stopped to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. “Tell him I said he’s a fucking wanker going nowhere in life and he’ll just have to sleep in a box for the night. I don’t care, my bed’s warm as it is.”

“Seriously, is that all?” This time it was my turn to raise my eyebrows, not bothering to hold back any sarcasm.

She scoffed and rolled her chocolate eyes. “Just do it.”

Okay, maybe Harry and Quinn were actually perfect for eachother. They were both so demanding and never held back when it came to bossing me around. For some reason though, I let them.

I left without saying another word, making my way to the parking lot where my black beauty was waiting for me. It was so ugly that it was beautiful, my junker of a truck. At least it got me to work on time, after Quinn’s little rage I wasn’t sure if I would be.

Before I even opened the door to the building I could smell the shrimp and hear the drunk and undistinctive chatter from inside. The neon red sign outside on the window was shut off, reading ‘closed’ but it didn’t matter, because everyone knew it wasn’t. I had been working here for so long it was beginning to feel like we were constantly open. If it wasn’t for my dad and my desperate need to raise money for college, I would have given my two week notice a long time ago.

Just as I suspected, there was an assembly line of frat guys at the bar dressed to impress in beanies, blazers, and five o’clock shadows. It was all so typical and routine. I approached the kitchen door, making sure to punch in to get my hours. I remember the last time I forgot, my own father wouldn’t pay me for the day and I threatened to move out and live with Manny until graduation. Leslie called me out on it by saying I was pulling a ‘mom’, in the end I only stayed the night instead of a lifetime.

I washed my hands, making sure to scrub my wrists and under my nail beds. I remembered what Quinn had asked me to say to Harry, even though it may have been a bit harsh, and peered around the corner to see if he was cooking today. My face fell when I took in Ron’s feature, already feeling annoyed. There may be some bad blood between Harry and I, but he didn’t make me feel near as uncomfortable as Ron did.

He quickly slammed his spatula on the spot next to the stove where he was flipping patties and boiling shrimp. He ran a hand through his hair, looking me up and down, he had crazy eyes. I tried turning for the door to take orders before he could say anything, but I was too slow for his big mouth.

“Oi, mate. I’ve been busting a nut over here and you just show up now? You know I’m not afraid to have a chat with your father, Missy.”

Missy? I wasn’t a little girl, and I wasn’t late. Ron was good at making you feel small and unworthy of his time, yet he was about the biggest delegant I had ever met. It was one thing when Harry made me want to slap him in the mouth, it was another when Ron flat out disrespected me.

I glanced to the clock, keeping one hand securely on the door. “I’m seven minutes early.”

He laughed at me, taking a few steps closer and looking up at the clock himself. I could already smell his disgusting body odor. You’d think a thirty-one year old man would know how to put on deodorant.

“Well I would have liked to have you here a little earlier.” He stopped to lick his lips. “That new young lad cleaned the stock room last night if you know what I’m saying. Plenty of space.”

His deep laugh erupted again as he nudged my arm with his elbow. His jokes weren’t funny, they were gross. The only reason he got hired was because my dad’s best friend happened to be Ron’s uncle.

When I confronted my dad about Ron, he basically just told me to ignore him and that he was harmless. So that’s what I do, I ignore him unless I can change the subject enough to get him off topic.

I stared down at the floor, shuffling my way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Ron snickered to himself, turning back to the boiling shrimp. I shook out the tension in my fingers when I spotted my favorite customers in the corner booth.

Mary was waving her hand in the air, holding what looked like a small envelope. I approached just as Jeff returned from setting his cane near the window behind their seats. A bright smile was plastered over each of their faces, making me forget all about Ron who was probably talking to himself in the kitchen.

“It’s got my name on it and everything!” I cheered, playfully taking the white envelope from Mary’s fragile fingers. “What is it?”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked to Jeff for approval. He simply shook his head at her before turning his attention back to me. “You’ll have to open it and find out, dear.”

Before I got too excited, I took a moment to scan the room to make sure no one was in desperate need of a waitress. The coast seemed clear enough.

“Okay, scoot over!” I announced, Mary giggling at me, moving her red peacoat to make room for me in the booth. “I didn’t forget your birthday again did I?”

“As much as I loved sending birthday cards to you on my birthday just so you’d remember, it isn’t even remotely close.” Mary declared while I frantically ripped at the paper in my hands.

I gripped the card inside with two fingers, pulling it out just enough to see the gold cursive lettering. “No way.”

The letters boldly swayed across the white invitation, but not just any old invitation card that could be bought at a drugstore, it was a save the date card.

I gasped loudly, placing a hand over my mouth. Tears started to well in my eyes as I delicately opened the card. There was a picture of the two of them in their younger years, when they first started dating I assumed. Next to the old photo was the picture I took of them at the Fletcher’s One-Thousandth customer party.

“You’re getting married,” I stated, trying to fan the tears away with my hand.

Jeff simply laughed, patting my hand that was rested on the table before popping a jumbo shrimp into his mouth. When I looked up at Mary, a silent tear fell from one of her eyes. On instinct, I reached up and wiped it away with my thumb. We both laughed, falling into one another.

“I can’t believe it, this is so amazing!” I reached across the table to steal Jeff’s napkin to dab my eyes. “No one is more deserving of happiness than the two of you, I mean it.”

Mary’s red fingernails reached to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thank you, Lydia. You’re the sweetest.”

I rested my head against her shoulder as she continued patting down my hair. Jeff and Mary continued to eye each other with nothing but matured love. I squinted my eyes to focus on the date printed ever so slightly in the middle of the decorative invite.

My eyes snapped open and my head lifted off of Mary’s comforting shoulder, “This says your wedding is this Thursday.”

Mary’s high pitched voice chuckled at my confusion. It seemed a little short notice in my opinion, although it wasn’t like I had anything to do. I could easily take off work, but their other friends and family might not be so lucky.

“Lydia,” Her eyes searched mine, “That’s the joy of it. See, we’ve waited a very long time and we just don’t see the point in waiting anymore. Let’s face it, we’re not getting any younger.”

The corners of Jeff’s mouth lifted into a small smile. “Plus, we just want a small wedding so no plus one’s. For anyone.”

Jeff was always so blunt and to the point, but beyond that he was also one of the funniest guys alive. Mary flashed him a look of warning, pulling his plate of shrimp out of his reach, “Jeffery!”

I laughed at the small dispute between the two of them. Their fights were anything but ugly.

After rolling her eyes, Mary turned to me. “Don’t listen to him, I told him on the way here that we were making a few exceptions to that rule and you’re one of them. You can bring a date.”

Immediately, Louis popped into my brain. Overwhelming me with his icy blue eyes and outgoing smile. So what if we’ve only been on one date, after all it was my turn to ask him out. Louis had effortless charisma, so bringing him on a wedding date so early on, thankfully, didn’t make me at all uneasy.

I couldn’t stop myself from blushing, “Alright, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“That’s great Lydia, it really is,” Jeff’s eyes desperately watched his fiance keep a firm grip on his shrimp. “But can you get back to work so I can finish my meal?” He asked, reaching across the table only to have his hand swatted away by a very stubborn Mary.

“Of course, technically I should have never sat down,” I laughed. “But, I’m glad I did.”

After I wished them one last congratulations, I spun on my heel to turn around. In the distance, Ron was watching me through the round window in the kitchen door. His eyes were piercing and I wondered if he was upset with me for some unknown reason. But I ignored him.

I continued waiting tables, working my routine like a robot forced to get through the night. I managed to swerve and dodge psycho Ron, not really feeling up to any question he had to ask or any demand he had to scream.

Half way through my shift I was in the middle of bathroom duty, scrubbing the toilets and wiping the tiled floor of any crumbs and stains that naturally appear, when I got a text from Louis asking if I wanted to go out for drinks later. Tingles swept over my body, causing me to rip off the yellow latex gloves in order to type him a proper response. An in-favor response, that is.

At least now it wouldn’t be as awkward when I asked him to come to a wedding with me. Not that it wouldn’t be a blast, but I wasn’t one of those girls inviting their boyfriends to a wedding just to drop a hint. I hardly knew Louis. I didn’t even know his last name.

As soon as I knelt down to clean under the sinks, it turned black. I furrowed my brows in confusion, either the lights shut off or someone was standing behind me. The rough voice answered my thoughts.

“I see you forgot a belt this evening. Smart decision, but I can’t say yellow is the best colour on you, I prefer black.”

My eyes widened as I quickly stood up, placing a hand over the top of my jeans in an attempt to cover my unmentionable. Ron was looming over me, crossing his arms.

“What are you doing in here? You should be doing table rounds.” I questioned, trying to change the subject.

Ron shrugged, “I was in the middle of it, but Asher said you’re wanted at the bar. Probably some loser trying to buy you a drink again.”

I nodded, tossing the sponge I was tightly gripping into the water bucket and pushed past Ron, trying to get as far away from his as possible. I told Asher when he first started working here that if the anonymous drink buyer was unattractive or a girl, he shouldn’t bother telling me about it. But what I think is attractive and what a middle aged, straight man thought was attractive, was not always a shared opinion.

As I approached the bar, in the midst of two-dozen college guys, I could see the curly top of brown hair and sparkle of green eyes as he stared at the neon lights above him. He was seated at one of the tall tables on the far side of the room, in front of him was a girl with blonde hair, but based on the bleached hue I could tell it wasn’t Quinn.

I was two seconds away from turning around when Harry peered his head, waving me over with the wave of his arm. I took a deep breath, still debating whether or not to leave, but it was too late. He had already saw me.

I approached the table slowly, taking in his flushed cheeks and faded brown boots. His short sleeves were rolled up slightly showing off his toned arms and multiple tattoos. Maybe he only needed a waitress because maybe he was on a date, in which case I should be very concerned for Quinn. Even though a few hours ago she had no problem kicking him to the streets and calling him a wanker.

“What can I get for you, Harry?” I waited, pulling out my pen and notepad. When I looked to the girl to my left, I didn’t think I’d recognize her so easily, but it’s hard to forget a face who had no problem admitting how much they hated you. My knees started to tremble and I prayed that it wasn’t noticeable.

Harry’s eyes flickered from me to Val, then back to me, biting the inside of his cheek. “I don’t need anything from you, just her.”

Oh no. Could I run yet?

“Go on.” Harry motioned to Val with a hard stare. “Apologize.”

Val leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her fake chest and tight red tank top. Her lips tightened into a straight line as she stared at the empty shot glass in front of Harry.

“Sorry.” Her usual hasty and strong voice sounded as if she was miles away.

That was good enough for me, I was satisfied, so I hoped Harry was as well so he could stop looking at her like he wanted to set her on fire. But I was wrong.

“What was that?” Harry pushed. Val squirmed in her seat, clearly feeling very small under his cold eyes. I was thankful I was not in her position, but it didn’t feel all that great in my position either. “Why don’t you try saying it like you mean it.”

“Um, really it’s not a big deal, I’m ov--”

“No!” Harry’s sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, cutting me off. “Don’t be such a pushover, she needs to apologize to you for what she said.”

I didn’t even think Harry knew about what, I mean I heard him yelling from the bathroom but it wasn’t distinct enough to make out. His jaw was clenched while he leaned back in his seat, slowly tracing the top of his shot glass.

“She said it wasn’t a big deal, you heard her. Now can’t we just hold up a white flag or whatever and call it truce?” Val argued and I nodded my head, relaxing slightly.

I wasn’t lying when I tried to say that I was over the situation. It happened, and it was done. I was just bad at handling intense confrontation. It was nothing Harry had to freak over, I sure as hell didn’t need him to get involved. Why did he care so much anyways?

My eyes pleaded with Harry’s, silently begging him to let it go. His nostrils flared, but his shoulders dropped, the tension no longer there. He sighed heavily, giving into my silent plea.

When Harry looked back to Val, who was now putting on a new layer of lipstick, with his eyebrows raised and a scowl on his face, I didn’t know whether to run away or laugh.

“What are you still doing here?” Harry yelled to Val like it was obvious. “Leave.”

Val’s mouth fell open, confused. “But you said you’d treat me to dinner.”

“I lied. Now leave.”

Now I was the confused one. Was this girl completely oblivious? When Harry’s jaw set, eyes ablaze and tension filled, you did what he said. He could get scary.

“Fine,” I heard Val sigh before rolling her eyes, standing up to pull her mini dress over her arse.

As soon as she was out the door and out of sight, I took her seat across from Harry on the barstool. He was staring down at his drink nonchalantly like he wasn’t even phased by the what happened.

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” I asked humorously, trying to ease the tension.

He downed his second shot, slamming the glass back on the table while the intoxicating liquid rolled down his throat. “She had it coming to her. Even around Jen she never knew when to shut her trap.”

Jen. The girl I tried so hard to forget. My body stiffened and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching across the table to take one of Harry’s drinks. I needed to calm myself down. After psycho Ron and Val, the last thing I wanted to discuss was Jennifer Castle. Just the sound of her name made me want to chop off my own arm just so I’d have something to throw at her.

“Oh yeah, they were good friends weren’t they?”

Harry nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “Can I buy you a drink?”

It was a simple question that I should have said no to because my shift wasn’t over with. But a bigger part of me wanted to say yes. If I got him good and drunk I could ask him questions I would normally be too chicken to ask. Like why he didn’t have a place to stay, or why he was so obsessed with Val apologizing. But I couldn’t get a head start on Louis, he would get suspicious as to why I was already tipsy.

“No, but maybe you can explain why you’re a wanker sleeping in a box tonight.” I said, resting my elbows on the table to rest my head in my hands.

Harry’s face lifted, with dark eyebrows raised. “Did Quinn tell you that?”

I nodded, “And then some.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Just like that the muscles in his body tensed while he tapped his foot furiously, the vein in his neck looked like it was about to erupt. “God damn it!”

I flinched, leaning back in my seat. “Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain, Harry.”

He sighed again, looking to me very unamused. The crowd behind me at the bar was becoming more rowdy while tossing quarters into their drinks, as Harry grew more stern and unwelcoming. Things were not working in his favor tonight.

“You guys were fine a couple of nights ago, what could you two possibly be fighting over in that short amount of time?”

Harry’s face puckered up, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as he downed another shot. He swallowed with a loud gulp, then looked back at me, staring straight into my eyes.

“You.”