Chapter 2

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"Where are you?"

Jennie sighed and put her mobile phone back inside the pocket of her coat. Jennie could literally hear the obvious worried and persistent voice of her mother from that single three-worded message.

She looked around the "The Era" like how she always would every time she would step inside the premise of this old 70's diner and its somewhat depressing state and lacking ambiance. But even so, Jennie liked the place. Even if it wasn't her usual taste.

"Can I get you anything?" asked the waitress who was wearing a gray apron today, with grease all over the front,. The old woman was holding her pen and handy notebook, as soon as Jennie settled herself on her usual spot beside the glass window, at the farthest end of the rows of unmatched wooden tables and chairs inside the place.

"Someone who knows how to greet costumers properly, perhaps?" Jennie replied with a sass.

"Oh, it's you again, huh?" the waitress muttered carelessly in her usual grumpy and sour voice as soon as she looked up from her handy pocket notebook and recognized Jennie immediately.

Jennie had already formed a conclusion in her head that the old waitress was an old maid, who was suffering with personal issues against young women and perhaps everyone eversince the first day that Jennie had wandered into the senescent confines of the old diner.

"I'd like to have the usual," Jennie said casually and deliberately chose to ignore the fact that the waitress, yet again, raised a suspicious and rude brow to her, while the corners of the waitress' withered lips were twitching comically. As if she was mimicking Jennie's.

"Don't you get tired of getting the same coffee everyday, miss?" the waitress asked, curiosity and irritation was all over her wheezy voice. It was the first time that she asked Jennie a direct question, other than her usual costumary, infamous and definitely boring "can I get you anything" tagline.

Jennie shook her head slowly and said, "No?"

The waitress shrugged and said, "Well, just in case you haven't read the flyers yet, we also offer burgers and fries, steak and salad, and a discount if you're going to order the secret menu of the day."

Jennie shot a curious eye towards the waitress. She wasn't really in the mood for a conversation but curiosity got the better of her. Plus, it was something new—having a real conversation with the grumpy woman.

"And what would be your secret menu for today?" she curiously asked.

"Liver steak, smothered with onions, jalapeños and sour cream, with toasted bread and a hot cup of especially brewed coffee," the waitress answered with pride on her voice. "But don't go off telling everyone around about it. Else it's not a secret anymore, you see."

Jennie cringed her nose. The thought of a greasy liver was already upsetting enough.

"I'll have the usual, then. Besides, I don't need a discount," she said with a shrug, dismissing the offended waitress as she said so.

The old waitress looked like she was hit with a hammer on the head, the way she looked at Jennie like she was suffering from internal pain and internal battle about whether she woukd act on her offended feelings or just let it go. The former won.

"What's the point of coming everyday if you will just order a damn cup of coffee which you never even drink?" the waitress said, obviously struggling to keep her temper in checked before leaving Jennie alone. Immediately, as though she was intentionally denying Jennie the opportune to retaliate.

Jennie just rolled her eyes dramatically and took out her copy of Wuthering Heights from her bag, which she pre-ordered all the way from an old library in Europe. She wanted badly to acquire a used and hand-me-down, worn-out copy of the classic Emily Brontë masterpiece, after it was recommended to her. Even though she wasn't really up for reading. It's a good thing that her family name could pull out a few strings that she could use for her advantage.

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