How To Love (Editing)

First Meeting

Why I ever chose working in a bar to earn my monthly rent is and will always be a complete mystery. I don't like being around drunken people, and the music's always too loud. It gives me headaches, and probably damages my ears as well. 

Maybe I once thought it was the answer to everything because the pay is good, but ugh, I hate it now. The sight of people grinding up against each other is enough to make my stomach turn.

I force another pleasant smile and try not to wrinkle my nose as a drunk lady staggers over to my counter and rasps for a cosmo.

Her breath reeks. I try not to make a face. My boss made it clear everyone has to look professional at all time, never mind the smells and sights.

I'll never know why people like getting drunk. The stuff doesn't even taste good and we get killer headaches in the morning. 

Sighing, I check my watch and groan when I discover I still have 30 minutes left of my shift. Last time I checked, it was 9:25. Can time move any quicker or what? Does it want to torture me? Because that's exactly what it's doing. And more importantly, I can't memorize my script on duty, or else I'll have it confiscated. I only have one copy of it. Plus, there's an English essay due for Mr Donhoe's class tomorrow.

I am so very screwed.

Although, I'll admit, memorizing the script isn't actually necessary. Ms Miller, the head of Drama Club, said since this musical is on a very tight schedule and that the auditions have to be tomorrow, we can hold our scripts during the whole thing.

But if I were to get the role, I would have to outshine everyone. Therefore, I have to be the only one who memorized her script.

On the so-called bright side, my boss agreed to let me off tomorrow (and no salary, if you're wondering. What a meanie), and if I get the role, the whole month off. He wasn't very happy, but at least he agreed.

Yep, sounds like a plan. Except I really, really, really don't want to use Katie's parent's money to pay for my rent when I'm the one running off to rehearsals for my own sake instead of earning that rent money myself. I feel as though I'm being unfair.

I'll pay them back, I decide resolutely, as I give the bar table a defiant scrub with a towel. I'll definitely pay them back right after my rehearsals are over. Besides, it's just for one month. Katie checked and she told me that after this month, all the rehearsals are going to be during lunchtime and homeroom period.

Despite my discomfort, I feel a bit excited. It's been quite a while since I've been onstage.

I've so wrapped up in my happy daydreams  that I don't notice somebody standing in front of me until that person clears his throat. I look up.

"Daydreaming?" he smirks.

Arrogant teenager alert. Beep, beep. "Hello. What can I get you?"

"You." he winks.

I keep my face straight. "I'm very busy. What can I get you?"

"I don't see a line."

"There will be if you keep standing here." I shoot back. "What can I get you?" God, I hate repeating myself.

"I want you."

"Arrogant much? Well, you can't always get what you want. Besides, I don't know you."

"Well, I know you and that's good enough. You're name is..." he strains to see the name tag in front of my apron. "Holley. Pretty name."

"Ah," I nod to the line forming behind him. "See the line?"