Atlantis Academy: The First Element

CHAPTER TWO

"Please. I'm sorry. I'll try harder." I meet his eyes, but he's looking at me with such contempt, I go back to staring at the floor.

"I've put up with this because your mom worked here for so many years. But she was on time, did her job, and never lost me money and customers."

Oh, no. His voice is lower now, dead serious. My hands turn clammy and cold as I clench them into fists and meet his eyes.

"I'm letting you go. You can stop in next week to pick up your final check."

I'm shaking as I wipe my hands down my apron and stand up taller. "Please... don't." My voice cracks on the words. "I'll do better. I swear it."

"I've given you more than enough chances." He sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose. Then he shakes his head. "I'm running a business, not a charity. You need to leave."

"I... I know this isn't a charity. I promise I'll be more careful." I feel woozy, like my blood pressure has dropped to zero, and I'm about to pass out. "I'll make sure I don't make any customers wait."

Keith shakes his head and points to the door I just came through.

"Please." I know I sound pathetic, but darkness is threatening to swallow me whole. "Please. Just one more chance."

He stares down at me for what feels like forever.

"Please." The word comes out in a near-whisper.

He lets out another sigh. "One! One more chance. I'll let you work tonight. And tonight only. This is your last chance! Prove to me you can handle it."

Relief floods me, leaving me weak. "Thank—"

"I better not see one more broken dish. I don't want to hear a single complaint that the service was slow or that you messed up the orders. Do you understand?"

I nod vigorously. "I do. Thank you. I'll... I'll do a good job, I swear it."

He curls his lips like he doubts I'll prove a thing. "I've given you a fair shake."

"I'm grateful, really—"

"If you mess up tonight... you're done here. You can count on it."

"Thank you for giving me another chance. I'm very grateful for this job, sir." I barely hear myself saying the words. I pause, swallowing, unsure what else to say.

"Well?" He looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Go on." He points down the hall, toward the dining area.

I whirl and hurry away, wiping the sweat from my brow.

I have to be perfect tonight. Perfect!

As I'm passing by the walk-in freezer, I realize the door is open a crack. The cook-slash-assistant-manager, Mateo, steps out. My cheeks burn even hotter, and I keep my head down as I pass him. He definitely heard all that.

But I haven't completed my gauntlet of shame yet. Deb, the waitress on the morning shift, will be out front. She won't be happy I'm late either.

I need to try to calm down, but I'm nauseous, and my thoughts are all over the place.

An empty fridge. Unpaid bills. That's my future if I screw up tonight. Will trying harder even work? Or will I end up fired anyway?

I'm a mess as I step into the dining area. It's still mostly empty, except for the two old guys drinking coffee.

The Rock looks like every small-town 1950s diner you see on TV, only everything's a lot less shiny and new, because the last time this place was fixed up, it probably was the 1950s.