Frost

02 | DARKNESS

My summer was spent in the arms of Reyna or working twelve-hour shifts at the shop. Not that any of my classmates would ever ask me about my summer or even acknowledge my mere existence ⁠— not without curling their lips and twisting their tongues in disgust.

Pulling my apron from over my shoulder, I fasten it around my waist and slink behind the front counter. Dominic is already yanking his apron off and clocking out.

"Hey," I breathe and brush alongside him to press my thumb against the print scanner of the time clock.

"Hey." Fatigue wraps around his frame and a fine layer of exhaustion glistens across his brown skin, allowing defined curls to cling to his forehead. "There's a girl over there" ⁠— he raises a lanky arm to point in a vague corner ⁠of the restaurant — "who ordered half an hour ago. She just had a coffee and has been sitting there staring at nothing. I don't want to kick her out, but we've got a couple of people waiting for tables."

I rake my eyes over the area and make out a girl with curly hair sitting by herself next to a window, eyes glued to the foggy surface. That's probably her. "Alright. I'll give her a few minutes to order something else."

"Great. Also" — with shut eyes, he presses his thumb between his brows to recollect his thoughts — "table six just sat down, but they didn't have their orders taken yet."

"Got it. Table six."

A quick nod sends russet curls into his gaze. "Thanks for coming in early." Gratitude laces his breathlessness. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good luck on your exam." I tip my head and hold back a snicker as he stumbles out of a customer's path on his way to the door. He salutes two fingers to me before darting into the rain and going to his campus.

Longing weighs in my bones as I watch him leave for the briefest of moments. I wish I could skip this last year of high school and go straight to college with Dom. I'd no longer have to suffer the brutality of my tarnished reputation. No longer have to spend hours of my life learning information useless to everyday life when I could be working. Working towards a career. Working to save enough money for my family and to find an apartment for me and Reyna.

College is bittersweet freedom that the judgmental bars and chains of high school cannot carry.

"Callum!" The baritone of my manager's voice cracks the fabric of my fantasies. I turn in time to catch him leaning out of the kitchen and huff like a grizzly disturbed from its slumber. Crimson coats the surface of his face and creeps to the sheen of his balding head. "Table six needs their orders taken. Get to it."

"Yes, sir."

The dance of our brunch rush begins as I weave through my bustling coworkers to grab a notebook and pen from the pile in the backroom. The roar of the guest's conversations and calls of the kitchen staff is a song I've learned to move along with ease.

My feet operate from their own intelligence, skittering across the oak floorboards as I step around adolescent children and parents coming from washing their hands in the restroom to go to their tables.

Table six. Table six. Table...

My brain overrides my instinctual movements as table six materializes. Steel plants my feet to the ground. Vomit stirs in the pit of my stomach. Fire curls in my veins. Five sit at the round table in the center of the restaurant, mischief carved into their lips and animosity swept through their eyes. Five tormentors who cackle and thrive for my suffering sit before me. Their leader, Jeremy Lee, rests in the center.

A hush falls over the table when his soulless eyes meet mine and his bloodstained mouth halts in conversation. Wicked lips curl and he leans back in his seat and rests an arm along the back of his neighbor's seat.