Hollywood Hills and Suburban Thrills

The car slowed to a halt in front of diner and I when I made no movement toward that handle on the door, William killed the engine and looked at me.

"You're already ten minutes late," he reminds me. I groaned in response, letting my head fall back on the head rest of the seat. Sisky nudged my shoulder, smiling slightly when I looked at him, before reaching over and opening my door for me. I gave him a half-heart smile before climbing out of the vehicle and walking toward the huge glass front doors. I was about to walk inside when the sound of another car door slamming stopped me.

"What is it, Will?" I tried the shortened version of his name, but something just didn't seem right when I said it; I liked 'William' much more.

"I want you to text me as soon as you're off work," he says with a shy smile. "You should know my number."

"Of course I do," I say, patting the pocket of my jeans where my cell was pressed flush against my leg. He glanced at it before smiling and nodding. We stood there for a moment and then, as I was about to turn and go inside, he grabbed my wrist and held me in place just long enough for him to lean in and place a small kiss on my cheek.

"See you." He whispers and then he was back in the car driving away while Butcher and Sisky waved frantically from the back window.

I don't know how long I stood there before walking inside and straight to the kitchen—I hardly remember walking inside even. My brain was all fuzzy and scrambling for answers now. I was about to grab a pad of tickets when a hand slammed down on the stack of them and I looked up to see Noah, grinning like a madman.

"That was interesting," he says, twitching his eyebrows and nodding towards the front glass windows of the restaurant.

I felt my face flush slightly at the thought of everyone in the diner seeing that fiasco outside. But since I still had my pride, I pulled a ticket pad out from under his hand, slid it into my apron and turned to go to our makeshift employee lounge.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I state in a voice that was supposed to be uncaring.

Noah beat me to the door of the lounge, pressing his back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. I mocked him.

"I want an explanation." He says down to me and I glared up at him.

"Oh, now you're my mother?" I challenge, sarcasm heavily lacing my tone. The answer voice was not one that I had wanted to hear, though.

"No. That would be me." My mother said from behind me. Sure enough, I hadn't caught Noah's sudden rigid façade before he scurried away, and when I turned on my heels to face my mom…well, to say she was looking angry would be an understatement.

"Where have you been?" she snaps at me the moment I made eye contact with her. "You're ten minutes late!"

"I know," I mumble to my shoes.

"I want an explanation." She demands and I couldn't help but snicker at the thought of Noah having just said the exact same thing. But my smile was wiped clean when I heard my mom's custom heels walking toward me on the linoleum. "Well?" she prods.

I cleared my throat and starting chewing on my lip. What am I going to tell her? I think frantically. Oh, don't worry about it mom. I was hanging out at home with the lead singer of a band that I met today at the mall. No biggie. Yeah, right.

"Uh…" I started out before shaking my head; I had to clear my thoughts somehow. "I was hanging out at home."

"And that's why you're late, is it?" she snaps again.

I swallowed. "Yeah," I mumbled. I had no backbone when it came to her.

She sighed and I something told me that her anger was disappearing slowly, but I dare not look up in case she was still seething. "Just don't let it happen again." She says. I nodded to the floor again and then I heard her start walking away, but not before she called over her shoulder, "Oh, you're working until six thirty now." And then the kitchen door swung shut.

I looked up, inhaled a deep breath, and then swung into the employee lounge. Not long after I had taken my usual seat, Noah was sitting across from me.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you," he says immediately, patting me on the head as it rested on the table between us. "I have no balls when it comes to your mom."

I laughed humorlessly. "Not many people do. Just look at my dad…" I trailed off, not wanting to get on that subject at the moment.

"So, where were we?" Noah asks, emphasizing thought but of course we both knew he was totally aware of where we had left off. "Oh yes," he says too loud, "we were discussing what exactly was going on out in front of the diner."

He was leaning on his elbows on the table, his face set in his hands with an eager look on his face. Had I not just been ripped out by my own mother, I would've laughed at the situation, but I just grimaced when I looked at him.

"Do I have to tell you now?" I ask desperately.

He looked at my eyes, probably noticing how bloodshot they suddenly were, and sighed. "No, tell me when you want." Then he stood and headed toward the door. "And take all the time you need in here. I can cover you as long as you need."

"Can you cover me from now until six?" I try and he scoffs.

"Don't push your luck kid," he stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turning to meet my gaze. "But if you need me to…" he asked, completely serious again.

But I stood up quickly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand before joining him at the door. "Not today, Noah." I say, walking out.

"Good," he says as we walked toward the dining room together. "because I get off at five too and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be."

I moaned in anguish. "You get off an hour earlier than me. Uncool."

He chuckled. "Yes, well, I've also been working since eight so I think I've had my fair share of hell for the day."

I nodded in reason as we reached the dining room just in time to see four people walk in the front door.

"You want these or would you prefer I take them?" Noah mumbles in my ear.

I sized them up for a moment. "You take them. I'll get the next one."

He nodded and walked away, leaving me to watch lazily. But then, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, signaling a text message.

I pulled my phone out to see a text message waiting and when I opened it, I couldn't help but laugh.

I miss Jude. And Sisky and the Butcher miss you.
-Slim

This was going to be the longest six and a half hours of my life.