Confused, I watch him walk out of the diner. I apologized for spilling on him, so I don't understand why he's acting all mad. He's a grouchy boy, isn't he?
I probably just lost the best opportunity to make a friend. I even pulled out my list of Questions to Get to Know Someone I found online that I always carry with me.
You never know who might be a potential friend.
Although I didn't get a chance to get too close to Levi, it still stings that he will never be my friend.
Ugh, of course I had to spill my pink lemonade on him!
Remember when I said it was a beautiful day? Well, now it's raining. And I have to walk forty minutes in it, with no jacket and a fuzzy sweater. Which means that when it dries, the fur is going to be crunchy. Not very water-resistant, I must say.
Welp, lesson learned.
To brighten the mood of rain, I jump in any rain puddle I see. My shoes were already dirty, so why the heck not! Plus my dress reaches an inch above my knees, so hardly any dirty puddle drops will land on the fabric.
"Woo!" I cheer, uncaring of any watching, judging eyes. I splash into a clear puddle, smiling brightly.
Oh, how I miss being little.
Dada, momma and I would run outside even if it was just barely sprinkling to play in the rain. We'd get drenched from all the puddle-splashing, and so so cold that we had to sprint inside to warm up. We'd all cuddle under one tiny blanket, surround ourselves with all sorts of junk food, and turn on a movie. Tangled, usually, since I would pout until Momma and Dada would agree to watching it for the thousandth time.
I stop hopping on the rain-covered sidewalk. A frown pulls down my smile.
I miss those days. I miss when momma showed her love to me in a non-hurtful way. I miss when she'd spend time with me, when she'd put everything on hold if I needed her in that moment.
I miss when Dada wasn't gone.
I miss when I believed he would come back.
Suddenly, I realize how cold I am. My hair is damp, sticking to my cheeks. My dress is clinging to my legs, sweater heavy on my shoulders.
Ew! My socks and shoes are wet!
Worst. Feeling. Ever.
I wrap my arms around myself, cringing at the sogginess in my shoes. My house is still thirty minutes away, I can make it.
This time, I dodge the puddles. Each step I take makes a squishy noise. I bop my head to the beat of that squishy noise.
But then a loud, engine-like noise creeps up behind me. My skin goes even colder than before.
I've seen news stories about this. "Teenage Girl Walks Home Alone, Old Creep Steals Her."
This is my end, isn't it?
Oh gosh, the car lights are getting brighter and brighter. Oh gosh, the car is coming closer and closer. I start walking faster.
Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh—
The car stops next to me. I hear the window roll down.
"Get in."
Oh, heck no. I am not getting in a random vehicle—
Wait. I know that voice.
I turn to see a slick black Ferrari. Inside, Levi has one hand on the steering wheel, and he's leaning over the passenger seat to speak to me through the open window, which is causing rain to get in his car.
I'm confused at his offer. "What?"
He clenches his jaw, seemingly annoyed. "Get your ass in the car before I fucking leave you here."
Okay, fine. Geez, someone needs a swear jar.
I hurry inside the car, frowning at my drenched clothes. "Sorry, I'm getting your seats all—"
"Where were you walking?"
I don't answer right away, caught off-gaurd by his random question. "Um...home?"
"Alone? In the fucking dark?" His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and his speed picks up.
I slowly turn to him, smiling. "Aw, you care about my safety?"
Is this what it feels like to have a friend? To have someone who cares about you?
"No."
Oh. "Then why did you bother to give me a ride?"
"Because." His knuckles are white by now.
"Because why?"
He doesn't answer, so I say it again. And again. And again.
"Shut the fuck up," he groans, leaning his head back on his seat.
I play with my hands on my lap. I bet he wants to play the quiet game. Girls in elementary and middle school, and sometimes even highschool, would beg me to join them in the quiet game. At first, i thought it was a fun little challenge. Still do, honestly. But then I figured out that they just wanted me to stop talking.
Now that I think about it, they should thank me. I'd always let them win.
Sneakily, I look over at Levi. He's so pretty, it's unfair. Holy smokes, his Mcfreakin' jawline! His hair is messy, but somehow still perfect atop his head. I believe that everybody should have as lovely of a side profile that he has.
My eyes trail down to his shirt, and although its dark, I know where the lemonade spilt on him.
"I'll pay for that," I say after a few silent moments. "I gave most of my money to the homeless woman I met today, which I must tell you about someday." I pause. "Well, that is, if you'd still like to be my friend..."
He doesn't say anything, and I feel awkward.
I click my tongue. "Anyway, I don't have any cash right now. But when I get my paycheck next week—"
"I don't want to be your friend."
Oh.
Well hot-dang, that stung. It's my fault, I should've seen it coming. Especially after spilling on him.
Oops.
"Okay," I say quietly. I resist the urge to ask why. If I knew why no one wanted to be my friend, then I could change. I could fix whatever's wrong with me, then maybe I'd make some friends.
The rest of the car ride is silent, other than the curt directions to my house that I tell him once in a while.
As much as I don't want to be in the car anymore because of the ache in my chest, I don't want to go to my house. What if momma's back? What if she's not?
I don't know which is worse. Coming back to an empty house, or back to one with a mad momma.
I'm looking out the window when I feel his eyes on me. Unlike me, he isn't very subtle with his staring.
I don't turn to confirm that he's looking my way, but I get very curious after waiting fifteen seconds and still feeling his gaze on me.
Eyes on the road, mister!
Without looking at him, I mumble, scared to raise my voice in case he gets mad at me for talking when we are playing the quiet game, "You're gonna kill all both of us if you keep staring."
I hear his scoff. "I'm not fucking staring."
"Mhm." I rest my head on the window, watching the raindrop competition on the window. When I shout "Yes!" after my drop wins, Levi glances at me like I'm crazy, but doesn't comment.
When he pulls up to my house, I hesitate to get out. The lights aren't on, but that doesn't mean momma's not home. To stall, I turn to him. "Thank you for the ride." I add a second later, "Sorry for the spill."
He nods, his eyes not on me, and I open the door. Since I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'll never see him again, I shut the door with a "Goodbye, Levi."
☆☆☆
It's Monday, and I'm fairly certain that Big D asked Frannie to fire me. She's standing beside me, drying off tall milkshake glasses with a red-and-white checkered towel, casting several glances at me.
I try not to think much of it, making the most of out my last day. I give every customer my best smile, service, and ice cream. Earlier, I even decided to make a Heavy Duty for a crying kid, which is supposed to be a desert strictly eaten by me only as I am the only one who will give it the large amount appreciation it deserves.
To put a cherry on top of my be-a-really-good-employee-so-you-don't-get-fired act, I offer Big D a hug whenever we cross paths. So far, he's declined all but three of my offerings.
He's a great hugger, I must say. I enjoyed the hugs far more than Big D had, but it's the thought that counts, right?
As I restock the napkins at the bar, I nervously look at Frannie. She's busy taking the order of our last customer, so I have about ten minutes left working at Dan's Diner.
I don't have many friends here...well, I have none, but I'd like to say goodbye to the employees. It's mainly Frannie, Big D, our cooks, and Blake who only works twice a week.
It doesn't take long for the diner to empty. I wipe off the tables while Frannie hangs up her apron, then gets her schoolwork out. She's in college, so after her shifts, she often studies.
Since she's supposed to fire me any second, I try to be invisible by standing very still. If she forgets about my presence, she'll forget she has to fire me.
Slowly, very slowly, I continue my cleaning. It takes me three times as long as usual. Moving in slow motion is actually very entertaining. Makes me feel like I'm the main character in a movie. I flip my hair in slo-mo.
"Bloody hell are you doing?"
I dart into the employees closet.
Shart, she saw me.
Oh, no. Now I'm going to get fired quicker than I wanted to.
I hear footsteps coming near the employees closet. "Athalia?" Frannie calls out.
I never paid attention to the elegance of her voice. It's deep yet feminine, and smooth. She's from London, so she has an accent. It's not thick, but it is noticeable.
Okay. This is it. You can't do anything about it. Just hang up your apron, and leave.
I blow out a breath, emerging from the employees closet. Frannie, hands on her hips and brows pulled together, stares at me like I'm on drugs.
"You doing alright, love?"
Something about that question melts my heart. No one besides Big D has ever cared asked me how I'm doing. "I'm great!"
Her facial expression tells me she doesn't believe me.
"Okay," I start, "I really, really need this job because I need the money. So please don't fire me. I can work on my skills as a waitress, I can—"
"Babe, what are you talking about?" She crosses her arms.
"I'm not getting fired?"
She tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were," she says honestly. I choose to ignore that. "But not that I've heard."
A wave of relief washes over me. "Oh, thank Santa Clause."
If I'd gotten fired, I can't even begin to think about what momma would have done to me. Worse than any other beating, I imagine.
I'm supposed to support her, and without a job, we would lose everything.
She leans against the wall, tapping her black pen against her lips. "So, who's your guy?"
Suddenly, I get very shy. "What guy?"
I'm not used to this much conversation. My fingers play with the ends of my white work shirt.
"Y'know," she smiles at me weirdly, "the guy that comes here, like, every day?"
Oh, she means Mr. Pretty.
My guy?
For some reason, thinking of Levi as my guy makes my heart flutter. I've never had a guy. I mean, I've never had a girl, either.
"Oh, that's Levi. I think he's my friend," I say questioningly. Her face brightens in an emotion I can't figure out. Surprise? Recognition? Curiosity? I dunno.
Levi definitely wouldn't call me his friend, but that doesn't mean I can't call him mine, right?
Then I remember what he said in his car. He doesn't want to be my friend.
"You think?" Frannie asks, continuing to tap the pen on her red-painted lips. She almost has a teasing expression on her face.
Again, I'm not used to this long of a conversation. Awkwardly, I answer her question, "Never-mind, we aren't. But, I went on a hangout with him, so—"
Frannie stops moving the pen. "You mean date."
"No," I say. If he doesn't want to be my friend, he definitely doesn't want to be anything more. "A hangout."
She rolls her eyes, pivoting away. "Sure."
I watch her sit down and continue her homework. I'm nearly one-hundred percent sure that's the longest conversation I've been engaged with. I think that should make me sad, but I'm thrilled!
Did I make a friend?
I am so telling Levi about this!
I rush to grab my phone, but pause. Right, I shouldn't bother him. If, by chance, he does want to be friends someday, I don't want to ruin it by annoying him with messages.
Head tilted down, I walk to the bar to continue cleaning. There's a few Redi Whip bottles out, a dirty glass or two, and a couple drips of ketchup.
I might've lost a potential friend, but I also gained one. Frannie is very pretty, with her shoulder-length red-wine hair and long eyelashes, her hazel eyes. No offense to her, but Levi is still prettier.
I pause my cleaning, failing to notice that I begin to zone-out.
Although I've known Levi for less than a week, the loss of his potential friendship hurts. It's my fault for hoping I could've gained him as a friend, but in my defense, he's the one who kept showing up to the diner! And he stood up for me when the double-date table had a problem with their whipped cream.
How come he did all that but doesn't want to be my friend?
"Athalia?"
I blink, snapping out of my daze. "What up?"
I tried to say that in my cool bro voice. It didn't work
"What're you doing on Saturday?" Frannie asks me, packing up her schoolwork.
After searching my mental schedule, I tell her, "I'm free. Why?"
"Wanna come with me to a college party?"
I can't stop my lips from forming a big smile. Me, at a college party? Heck to the yes!
"I'd love to!"
Frannie grins. "Perfect, I'll see you there."
☆Authors note☆
Sorry this chapter came out late. I don't like this chapter and I don't know why, but I'm guessing it's because I tried writing it while in the middle of a writer's block :/ I don't like to write during writer's block because good writing doesn't come out of it. So please bare with me<3
Tbh, I have no idea why it matters when I post updates because there's around 200 views on my story anyway, and more than half of them are mine lol.
SO IF YOU'RE READING THIS I LOVE YOU
Remember, somethings have to end before better things can begin.
Have a beautiful day !!
If you enjoy, please vote and follow.
Thank you for reading<3
Word count: 2486