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Slamming your Chemistry book closed, you let out a loud groan, your head falling onto your arms. "You guys," you grumbled to your friends, "I just can't study anymore. I can't do it. It's not going to happen." It was midterm season, and you and your friends were studying together - attempting to, at least. For you, it wasn't going so well. You hadn't gotten a lot of sleep recently, and you were so damn hungry.
"Can we take a break and go to Annie's, please?" you pleaded with your friends, giving them desperate eyes when you lifted your head from the table. Annie's was a diner on campus that everybody loved; they had great burgers and milkshakes.
One of your friends scoffed and gave you a look, "You only want to go to Annie's to see Tom."
You scrunched up your face, huffing back in retort, "That is not true. They have the best milkshakes on campus, and I'm in desperate need of one. Maybe we could try studying there?"
Tom was a boy who worked at Annie's. A very cute boy, mind you. Because you were a regular at Annie's, and Tom worked often, you saw a lot of each other. He knew your order and would write little notes on your napkins, sometimes just little smiley faces or doodles, but it made your day. He also had the world's brightest smile, and when you were there, it was always directed towards you. He would give you a grin when you walked in, when he took your order, when he was standing behind the counter. Quite frankly, Tom was the reason you wanted to go - you needed a little pick me up, and you knew a milkshake and a smile from Tom would do it - but you were not about to admit that to your friends.
Your friends didn't believe your excuse, but they gave in and packed up their things so you could go. After all, they did have good milkshakes.
-
When you and your friends walked in, you were immediately scanning the restaurant in search of Tom. You found him standing behind the long countertop, cleaning out glasses. Tom looked good, as always. He was wearing the navy blue t-shirt all the employees at Annie's had to wear; it was a bit too tight around his biceps and across his chest, defining his muscles. He looked good. His brown curls were swept up and away to the side like always.
Tom's eyes lifted, and the two of you made eye contact. He flashed you his sunny smile and waved you and your friends over to the countertop. Each of you took a seat at a barstool, dropping your bags onto the floor.
"Hello, ladies. How's it going?" Tom was from England, and he had the best voice you'd ever heard.
You gave him a smile as you placed your elbows on the counter and leaned forward with your head in your hands. "Ugh, awful," you complained. "I'm tryi- we're trying to study. I'm not having much luck. So I suggested we come here instead."
"Smart idea. I'm sure you'll ace your finals, Y/N. Same as always for you?" You gave him a smile and a nod, and he replied with only a wink before moving on to taking your friends' orders. After Tom had taken all of your orders, your friends pulled out their books to start studying again, so you reluctantly did the same. Surprisingly, you were actually getting some studying done.
