Through Thick and Thin (ON HOLD TEMPORARILY)

A/N: I'm writing a romance story. amicoolyetguys?
Nahhh, I'm just pulling yer chain thar.
I felt like writing a romance story to pull myself out of my usual habits. Get out of my comfort zone, ya know? :) So here it is. I hope it's not riddled with clichés. I'm trying not to make it your average love story. So I'm putting in a few elements I don't think a lot of stories here on Wattpad have. Though I haven't read a lot of romance stories (like I said, out of my comfort zone) so bare with me here. :)
And I haven't written in first person in a LOOOOOOONG time so please, critique the hell out of this if you want. Rip it to shreds. I need to get slapped every once in awhile if my writing sucks. xD

Enjoy!

And remember to vote, fan, and add to your reading list if you like it! I'll try to update it ASAP!!

*~*

"Order up!"

I ran my hands over to the semi-hot carrying tray and hoisted it up onto my shoulder. Skating out of the kitchen, twisting around my friend, Carrie, as she entered, I glided my way through the fifties styled diner and over to table number six.

"Who ordered that grilled chicken club sandwich?" I asked with a bright smile, doing my best to earn my customer's favor. Without waiting for an answer, I handed the sandwich directly over to the young gentleman. He grinned back at me.

"You already knew," he said loudly, and I simply nodded as I handed the roast beef sandwich to his date.

"I'm good at what I do," came my reply. My lips twisted into a smirk. "And I work for a diner, so that's not saying much." My attempt at small talk made my two customers laugh, and that brightened my smile.

It had been a long day. Having gotten ridden by a fat, son of a bitch boss all day, snapped at by customers when the cook is the one who screwed up, and ultimately being second best to my only friend, Carrie, was not the idea I had when I left college. 

You see, I only work here so I don't starve, and I barely get by as it is.

Rolling back over to the table on the other side of the diner, I spun twice before stopping abruptly at the table, receiving an impressed nod from the mother behind her tuna salad sandwich.

"Everything still A-okay, ma'am?"

"Everything's delicious. Give my best to the cook. They really outdid themselves with this one," she replied. I gave a confident nod.

"I'll give him a big ol' sloppy kiss for ya," came my snappy reply before I skated off to the kitchen.

I was twenty-three years old, fresh out of a three year degree program at a university in Arizona. I had traveled out there back when I graduated high school, but I came home directly after. A vicious spat with my parents left me abandoned in the cold Manhattan weather, so there I was…

Twirling around a café for minimum wage…

Working under an oaf who doesn't know Windows 98 from Windows 7…

Never matching up to my friends, and ultimately living "the American dream"…

Rolling around the bar, I leaned my elbows on the marble countertop and sighed heavily into my palms. Where was my big adventure? When was life going to start? I had always heard about college being a rite of passage for kids. Live on campus, drink booze, party with cool kids, wake up wondering where your pants were, asking people to call your phone…

Then leaving college to enter a good job, get paid a great amount of money, settle down with Prince Charming, and ultimately wind up in Familyland: married with kids.

I had a degree, for Christ sakes! Graphic design. Yeah, thought I'd get somewhere with that. With companies always needing to be the coolest thing out there, there's gotta be a job for someone who can design the eye-catching graphic, right?

Tell that to my boss. I wonder how fast I'd get fired…

"Hey!"

'Speaking of,' I thought bitterly.

Mr. Hammond, a bear of a man with a bull neck -- or necks, I should say -- and the greasiest comb-over you'd ever seen, sauntered my way. I knew that face. Brow furrowed, eyes squinted, thick lips tight together… He was pissed about something.

Lifting papers to my face, he pointed viciously at a few lines. One glance, and I could see it was the employee handbook. "Does it say 'sit on ass' under your expectations?"