My Wreckage: Camp Nanowrimo (July)- In Editing

Chapter 1: The First Time I Met Her (Troy)

She nodded not looking back up at me. "New York Pizzeria, in Georgia."

My lip twitched. "Georgia, huh?"

She ran her finger over the woven bracelet. "No Gone With the Wind jokes please." Her lip twitched again.

I chuckled. A few came to mind when I had noticed her name, but I held my tongue. "It's a beautiful name."

Her lips curved into a half smile, "Thank you." She said softly.

"That's a pretty bracelet." I complemented, hoping to lighten her mood. I was sure it was a friendship bracelet, maybe from a friend she had to leave. I had never been the new kid, but I'd seen enough people come and go to sympathize. It never seemed easy to be in a new town.

Then there was the whole timid thing, I got that she was new, this was a job interview, for a job she had to interact with people. I planned on hiring her, because she did have the experience, but with her anti-social attitude I knew I'd have to put her in the back. Not that I wanted to. Not that I was checking her out or running that kind of establishment but she was pretty girl, big bright eyes. Nice smile when she did smile. She had a slim figure, I didn't see her in the kitchen. Not saying that she did or didn't belong in a kitchen. I just didn't get that.

"Scar." She blurted bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"Everybody calls me, Scar." Her eyes actually met mine with a her pink lips curved into a half smile.

I offered my hand again. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Scar."

She slid her hand into mine and I swore I notice her skin tinge pink. It was actually cute. Nothing I wasn't used to. I noticed how women reacted to me. It was the same way they had reacted to me, when I played football in high school. I knew all about being a heartthrob. But the fact that she didn't even realize she was putting that off, made it more cute.

I slid my hand away and her fingers went toward her mouth.

"That's a bad habit." I reached for her hands again studying them observing her fingertips. I was flirting, but only to help her out of her shell, so she would do better here. I knew I had to be careful, she was still a kid and I's had some clingy chicks come through here. Some I'd slept with, but I couldn't even think that way with this one. Not unless I wanted to catch a charge I didn't need. "You get nervous a lot." I said noticing her finger nails bitten back down to her nubs.

She started to pull away, but I decided to have more fun with her. Tilting her hand over and studying her palm tracing the lines. Feeling her twitch and noticing the hair on her other arm standing up. I smirked studying her hand. Drifting my finger up the line that lead up the heel of her palm I felt her twitch again, causing my heart to twitch. My mind wondered if she had a boyfriend, probably so. She was beautiful. If she didn't I knew she would have one soon, if I knew Zeke he had his eye on her. That was what couldn't happen. She seemed too nice, too shy, to sweet and not only that she was just allowing me to touch her like this. "You have a long life line." I noticed.

"Thank you." She said softly as if she didn't know what else to say.

I slid a finger over the top line and watch her neck bounce and my eyes shifted into hers. "Your heart line, says that you're giving, you are a good friend, and loyal." I cocked my head with a slow charming smile.

She pulled her hand down, and dropped her head with a tense smile pushing her lips together.

I chuckled. "I guess that makes you a good employee. You'll fit right in. She nodded looking down at the table. My fingers itched to tilt her head upward.

"Are you usually this shy?"

Her eyes found mine again, and her throat shifted again. "Um..." She pushed her thick ponytail back "Sometimes."

"You can talk to customers without, you know freaking out."

She straightened her back and looked directly at me placing her hands in her lap "Yes. I can do that."

I nodded. "Good. Be here at eight-thirty sharp. I don't have a dress code, you just wear the a T-shirt with a name badge. I'll have all that ready for you tomorrow."

Her eyes lit up with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

I chuckled, looking around playfully. "Is my dad's ghost creeping around again?"

Her eyes shifted awkwardly letting me know how dry that old joke was. I laughed it off. "You say sir and I'm looking for my dad. It's just Troy. We're on first name basis here."

She nodded with her usual bashful smile.

"So I put Scar on your badge?"

"Yeah."

I stood prompting her to stand to as I offered my hand. As she placed her hand in mine I noticed a small tattoo on her forearm. "You got a little ink there huh?"

"Is that against company policy?"

I held my arms out showing her my arms covered with ink. "Seriously?" I laughed. "May I?"

She nodded turning her wrist. "A fluer de lis" Then I noticed the name Ray Docote.

She nodded brushing her tongue over her lips. "My dad is from New Orleans. He was a Jazz musician."

I heard was but I wasn't ready to get that personal. But there was one thing I was curious about. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking."

Her head fell. "Um...Seventeen, but I'll be eighteen next month."

I didn't know if she was lying about that, I couldn't be too sure. It was times like this I knew it would have been smarter to hire less on the honor system and more checking ID and crap like that, but the island police department didn't bother me much, even though I sold alcohol as long as I was IDing who I served it to. Hiring kids was my way of keeping them from other shit, that were on the island. It was my crime control.

"If you're thinking about it getting more ink on your eighteenth, let me know. My guy is pretty good. He did most of mine."

I watch her eyes stroll over my arms slowly as the cover of her bottom lip slipped into her mouth. I almost wanted to take off my shirt to show her the entire thing. I was proud of my ink. It told my story. "Just let me know, okay."

She nodded again. "Do you need a lift home?"

"No." She said quickly. "I'm just up the street."

Then I thought. "I could get Zeke to walk you." He knew her better than I did, for all she knew I was some creep.

"No, I'll see you at eight-thirty. Thank you."

I walked her out the door at watched her walk up the hill. I felt bad for making her walk by herself. Not that we had ever had a problem with creepers, but you never knew.