Fourteen - Leather Jackets

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Fourteen – Leather Jackets

The three days leave – more like ditch – I had taken from Deli's had earned me extra working hours. Hans had told me the only way to make up for my non-approved leave was either working double or having it deducted from my pay. I frowned inwardly at the thought, I just don't know what I did to that guy.

So here I was again, the sleeves of my white school shirt rolled up and apron on, taking orders like nobody's business. The doorbell made a ding and was followed by a loud chatter.

I rolled my eyes, knowing what and who it was before I saw it. Thornton High kids. And I was right when I turned and saw a group of jocks and cheerleaders walk in, some whistling me over.

"Welcome to Deluxe, what can I get you?" I walked over to them with a polite smile.

They all ordered, and me; even though I could have cared less about if they starved or not had taken their orders, fake smiles plastered on my face. It was safe to say that I was thoroughly stressed out and frustrated and wasn't ready to mingle or take bullshit from anyone. And it also didn't help when I noticed Doris wasn't part of the prep group that came into the diner.

So you could have imagined my annoyance when someone tapped me on the shoulder, calling out my name like it was poison. And speak of 'bullshits', I turned around to see Baileen smirking down at me, two girls beside her.

Oh, I so wasn't ready for this. I rolled my eyes, turning back to cleaning tables like she hadn't just come to trouble. "What do you want Horan?"

"I'm sorry, last night I think I saw you running out, were you okay?" she asked like she even cared.

I paused, my hand hovering over the table before clearing my throat. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

"Oh, you're welcome. But Trent told me you were crying last night, was something wrong honey?" she asked, snorting in laughter. "Did someone make you cry?"

My grip on the kitchen rag tightened and I could feel the tears stinging behind my eyelids.

"Fuck off, Baileen."

"Language Adrianna!" I heard the distant voice of Hans shout back at me.

Oh, there was going to more than just cussing if this fake blond bitch didn't back down. I felt someone touch my shoulder, shoving me back roughly.

"You see why you can't be me Adrianna? Trent is mine – he's always been mine and if you think you were going to come in and take him just 'cause of some stupid crush, you were freaking wrong." Her eyes accessed me, disgust evident in them. "Look at you – pathetic little idiot. I step on things like you for fun."

I was pretty sure tears were falling – and not just because I was weak, but because I was pissed and practically seeing red right then.

Baileen laughed, covering her mouth mockingly, "Oops, I made her cry again. Sorry babe, but this time Trent – my Trent isn't coming after you." she flicked my hair with a smirk. "Focus on the important things Adrianna – get a makeover and clean the tables that feed you."

I watched as she strutted back to her table – all eyes on us and a couple of people snickering at me. I didn't know what pushed – or rather, possessed me to do so, but I found myself plunging forward and grabbing Baileen's hair, so hard I pulled out most of the fake extensions she had on.

And that was when everything went up in flames.

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There's one tiny little thing about humans that humans themselves don't know – they know how to get themselves into major shit. And even when they do so, they find out that they have no way to compensate for it and therefore all they do is feel regret in the end.

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