Stolen Oreos

• Adelaide •

Over the past fortnight, I’d worked my butt off fanatically. And no, that wasn’t just something I said to get Mom off my case. I actually had.

‘Adelaide, dear!’ Martha, my boss – or surrogate grandmother, because that really was a lot closer to the truth – exclaimed in surprise as I walked in through the back door. ‘I don’t think you’re on the roster for today. You can go home dear, you’ve logged more than enough hours this week.’

I gave her a shrug. Somehow she took that as a sign to continue to deter me from working, even though it was obvious the diner was horribly understaffed. ‘You don’t need to Adelaide, you really don’t need to. Go get some rest dear, you look like you need some alone time.’

I sighed. ‘Look Martha, I don’t mind working. Besides, you need the staff, and I want the money. It’s fair, see?’

Ambling into the staffroom, I threw on a blue and white checkered apron, tossed my hair up into a half-hearted bun, and stuck a couple of pens into it. I don’t know why, but I’d always wanted to do that. Of course, the old pen behind the ear was too cliché for me, but I’d always thought it was really cool to be able to miraculously whip out a pen from somewhere. Whatever. I pulled out my notepad and walked back out, ready to wait on a couple of tables.

Martha gave me a slightly pitying look, though I had no idea why. My best guess was probably that she could tell how utterly hungry I was. Ironic, huh? I worked in a diner and yet I was starving.

Business was slow today, and as soon as I’d taken orders from an elderly couple I had nothing else to really do. I mean, I could always wipe down the tables again but I sort of thought that if I could see my reflection in them, they were shiny enough. Besides, being able to see your reflection in a table is really distracting. The couple I’d served earlier kept giving me weird looks while I stared dazedly into their table.

Eventually, I found myself sitting on one of the free tables, swinging my legs idly. This was something that I’d tried to refrain from the whole two weeks, because it meant that I actually had time to think. And whenever I had time to think, my brain would focus on one thing – mine and Carson’s study date.

If there was ever something that made me feel uncomfortable, this was it. His house was probably the closest to a surreal experience I’d ever had. We had gotten along so well – not because we were making digs at each other, but because we were having a genuine conversation. I’d even told him about my dad. What an absurdly stupid thing to do! I wanted to rip my hair out. Now he had stuff to hold against me, and yet I was still none the wiser about him. All I knew was that he was, for some reason, not living the high life like I’d imagined. And that was hardly worth noting. If there was one thing I’d learnt, being raised alongside a best friend who was flamboyantly wealthier than I, it was that personal wealth was a touchy subject for some, and it should never be exploited as a weakness.

Nevertheless, I was determined to revert back to our former ways at school with Carson. The cold shouldering, the feigned ignorance  – that had all come back. It seemed like Carson had been thinking the same thing as I was, however, because he had immediately become his usual, snarky self as well.

Natasha, of course, was in shock. Apparently this was the first time she’d ever seen me so serious. Now that I thought about it though, I had been a lot less cheerful at school recently. In fact, I’d been downright dull. I racked my brains for an instance of epic pranking, or sneaking food into class, or tormenting freshmen that I’d done this week, and came up with nothing. God, I was turning into everyone else! Something had to be done about this. Stupid Carson, making my life go all boring. It needed some spicing up, some returning to former glory.

The bell chimed just then and I looked up, stirred from my thoughts. Almost immediately, a large (and almost certainly evil) smirk appeared on my face. What perfect timing. This was definitely a blessing from the gods.

‘Hello and welcome to Martha’s,’ I rushed over to the door and greeted the large group of girls that had just sauntered in with my most charming voice. They didn’t pay much attention, with a couple rolling their eyes at me and turning back to their high-pitched conversation. I couldn’t care less. It wasn’t like they were my next target.