Friendship for Dummies

Chapter One

            “You two can finish up here,” he says. “I think you’ve worked hard enough today.”

            Oh, thank God. I thought this nightmare was never going to end. If I spend one more minute in this stuffy restaurant, my sanity will be on the line. There’s only so much fake smiling you can take without going crazy, and I’m way too close to that limit.

            “Thanks, Mr. Howard!” Ava chirps.

            I nod thankfully in response, but that’s as far as my gratitude stretches – officially, my shift’s over, and that means I am no longer required to plaster a cheesy smile on my face. Thank God. Finally, the muscles in my mouth will be able to get some much-needed rest.

            Ava and I waste no time in pulling off our aprons and tossing them to the side. In a matter of seconds, we’ve abandoned our name badges and grabbed our bags, heading out of the restaurant’s front door as fast as humanly possible.

            Outside, the air is chilly and I curse myself for not thinking ahead and bringing a jacket. The black uniform shirt emblazoned with the restaurant’s logo is made of completely flimsy material and useless at maintaining my body temperature. I think I might be warmer wearing a bikini. And as if the freezing temperature isn’t enough, a light drizzle is falling too – coating my curly blonde hair with a layer of moisture that will make it frizz unattractively the moment I get inside.

            Brilliant.

            The end of the street is where Ava and I part to go our separate ways home. Quite frankly, the weather conditions make me want to sprint back to my house as quickly as possible so I can curl up on the couch with some hot chocolate and the Gossip Girl box set, but I don’t want to be rude to my best friend. Especially after she’s spent three hours picking up my slack on the restaurant shift.

            I should probably stop doing that.

            “Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” she asks, pushing a strand of jet black hair from her face. “I swear we hardly see each other now outside school or work.”

            “Yeah,” I answer dismissively, not keen to get into a long discussion at the current time – or temperature. “I’ll call you.”

            She nods in response and we bid our fleeting goodbyes before I set off down the street again. The darkness is a little unnerving, being alone, but I try to push the thoughts aside. If I wasn’t so unfit, I might consider sprinting the rest of the distance. However, I’m well aware of my regular performance in gym class – my grade serving as sufficient proof – and know that the only thing running will achieve is riding my bra up.

            Not something I’m a big fan of.

            When my familiar medium-sized house comes into view, relief washes over me. I quicken my pace, eager to get inside and change out of my damp clothing. The prospect of my comfy bed and a mug of something hot is sounding incredibly appealing right now.

            My mind is so focused on getting inside that I don’t even notice the guy in the hoodie walking towards me until it’s too late. It’s only when we slam into each other with unnecessary force that I realize I’m not alone on the sidewalk.

            Whoops.

            The guy barely wobbles, causing me to wonder if he’s got an inhuman sense of balance. Being my ever-graceful self, of course, I don’t manage to steady myself in time and finish up the act by tripping over my own feet. A second later, my face is pressed into the sidewalk and I’m sprawled in a position I can’t say I’ve ever attempted before. It takes a while for it to even register in my brain; then, when it does, I roll over to catch a glimpse of the person I’ve just rugby tackled.