10 | ten

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10
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"Cassandra! Table number two!" one of our waiters yells into the storeroom

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"Cassandra! Table number two!" one of our waiters yells into the storeroom. "They want to see the manager."

Cassandra rolls her eyes and I suppress a laugh while pursing my lips. Customers are always right, but Cassandra is going to show them that this is not the case.

I peek out of the kitchen door as I see Cassandra talking to a middle-aged woman. After a few back and forth conversations, the woman gives up and storms out of the diner.

"Cassandra is something else." A voice behind me almost makes me jump. I turn around and narrow my eyes at Ethan.

Tonight is my last night here, and to my surprise, Cassandra allows Ethan to help me with kitchen work--I've had enough of waitress work, and washing dishes actually can be fun.

"Of course she's something else, it's not like she needs that one customer. Didn't you see the line outside an hour ago?" I say, returning to the sink.

Ethan chuckles and follows me. Dinner rush is almost over, but there is still a flow of dishes coming in for us. As we are done with the last plate, we stretch our sore arms at once.

I bite my lips while scanning around the kitchen. "We still get dishes to wipe."

I hear a sigh coming out from Ethan, but it slowly turns into a laugh.

Taking a washed glass cup from the drainer, I return a smile and start wiping the water droplets off with the dishcloth. Ethan nudges me aside and helps me as well.

We're alone in the kitchen now, the chefs and Cassandra are busy dealing with leftover food outside. The air is still while we focus on our work, wiping the slippery glass as the cloth runs smoothly on them.

"Aly." Ethan's voice echoes.

"Yes?"

I don't hear anything, so I look up and notice that he's gazing at me.

"When's your flight?" he asks, his voice thick with emotions.

I stifle my urge to bite my lips. "Eight in the morning."

Ethan nods. I try to sift a single emotion from his face, but I get nothing. Instead, he starts wiping his cups again.

Moments later, I hear his deep voice again. "Well... do you want me to come to the airport?"

I smile. "No, for real, you will have to wake up at five in the morning."

"I can do that—"

"No, it's fine, Ethan." The determination I have surfaces on my voice. I turn and glance at him. "It's better to end at the same place as where it starts."

Here, at Lola's diner, is where we met again two weeks ago. It's where everything started. My lips unconsciously tuck up as I recall the day Ethan walked into the diner—gosh, I had no idea back then.

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