Matt
Twenty-eight thousand and eight-hundred seconds. That was how long it took Aimee to ask me the question.
"What happened to your face?" She inquired, eyeing me as she counted out the stack of bills lying on the counter before her.
Screwing the cap back onto a bottle of ketchup I was refilling, I ignored her.
She licked her index finger, carefully separating the paper money. "Well regardless, you're still gorgeous as sin. Do you want to go see a movie after we're done closing up?"
I nodded at the pile of quarters she was now painstakingly slowly making her way through. "Can you just finish counting your drawer so we can get the hell out of here?"
"So, that's a yes then?" She questioned, tucking a wavy crimson lock behind her ear, and smiling at me wickedly.
I rubbed at my temples, thinking that I truly didn't have the patience for her tonight. "No. That's a 'I have a headache so please hurry the fuck up so I can go home.' "
She pouted her glossy lips at me before resuming her task. "You're no fun. When we first met, you were actually cool and now you're lame as hell. No spontaneity left in you."
"I don't care," I replied, gathering up the condiment bottles in my arms and walking around to the booths to disperse them. "I'm not here to entertain Aimee. I'm here to get a paycheck."
Rolling her eyes, she brushed aside the money, resetting her count. Then hopped up onto the counter and began swinging her legs. For fuck's sake. I'm going to lose it. "What can I do to convince you to go out with me?"
Pausing in my tracks, I have her a quizzical look. She can't be serious. "You can do your fucking job, for starters," I murmured beneath my breath.
Just then the bell above the door chimed and we both whirled around to see who had come in at five minutes before closing, feeling entitled to be served. "I'll have a small pepperoni pizza with a large side of curly fries," Addison beamed as she strode into the restaurant.
She clapped her hands in front of my face. "Chop, chop, Mattie. Every second you waste standing there gawking at me is another penny that gets deducted from your tip."
I crossed my arms and stared at her, refusing to budge. "Hysterical, Addie. But unfortunately for you, I'm just the busboy." I gestured at Aimee. "She's the waitress and personally I don't give a damn what you tip her."
Addison suddenly gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh my god! Your face! What the hell happened to your eye? Don't you think you're taking your love affair with the color black a tad too far?"
Quickly turning to wipe down a table several feet away from her so that my bruise was disguised, I shrugged. "I fell," I replied, deadpan.
She arched a brow at me. "Into someone's fist? Names, Matt. I need names. A few minutes alone with them and I promise they will never bother you again."
With force, I chucked the wet rag into a nearby bin before snatching up a tray of dirty plates. "Will you two quit hounding me? I tripped over my shoelace and took a tumble down the stairs, smashing my face onto the railing post in the process. Alright?"
How could I admit that I had gotten the shit beaten out of me by my two high school tormentors? I couldn't.
Aimee and Addison exchanged skeptical glances and I knew they thought me to be a liar but despite the lack of filters on both their mouths, neither one chose to challenge my statement.
At least for that moment.
As soon as Aimee drove off in her little red corvette, blowing kisses at us, Addison gently reached out to touch my arm as I was turning the key in the front doorknob. "Now that Ginger Spice is gone, tell me the truth." She waved at my face. "What happened?"
Clamping my jaw shut, I shook my head. It was none of her business. Not to mention, admitting that I had been weak yet again would equate to me giving away my last shred of dignity that I had left. "I already told you," I said through gritted teeth. "I stumbled on a sneaker and fell down the stairs."
"I thought you said it was a shoelace you tripped on," she questioned, narrowing her eyes.
I shrugged. "I don't remember. I hit my head in the tumble." Exhaling, I stood up straight and strode over to my vehicle with her trailing behind me. As I slid inside, I glanced up at her and immediately deflated at the somber expression on her face and the glisten in her emerald eyes.
"You and I have been friends for a few years, Matt," she began, her voice quivering. "When are you ever going to trust me and believe that I'm not waiting for the opportune moment to hurt you?"
Turning away and staring out the windshield at the dumpster in front of me, I ran my hands over the leather of my steering wheel. "I think that perhaps you are the one with trust issues, Addie," I replied, slowly. "You refuse to take my word for it when I keep stating the truth; I fell."
I reached over to close the door and she took a step back, wrapping her arms around her frame. She stared at me solemnly in the faint illumination of a single street lamp that bounced it's subtle glow off the wet pavement from an earlier rain. It was a sorry sight and yet, it was hard for me to feel remorse as I drove off and left her gazing after me, all alone.
"Babe! What happened to you?!"
I dropped my head onto the dining room table, banging it softly against the wood. If one more person asks me that, I'm going to buy a Jason mask and wear that until this bruise fades away. It will probably garner less stares and attention.
"I'm fine," I replied dryly, lifting my face to look at Vanessa on the other side of my laptop screen.
She propped her chin in her hands, studying me in silence. Then she shook her head. "No. You're my boyfriend and I won't allow you to shut me out and retreat into your shell. I love you too much. Now, talk to me," she demanded.
Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and fingered the grain of the oak table. I shrugged. "What's there to say? I ran into my best pals, Troy and Scott at the beach, and they had me outnumbered. Those assholes used that to their advantage and jumped me."
Vanessa's jaw dropped open, tears springing immediately to her eyes. "I'm coming home. I'll skip classes tomorrow and take the first train back in the AM."
Shaking my head, I held up my palm. "Don't. Please. I'm okay. Really. Your studies are important."
She gestured frantically at the screen. "Look at you! You're...mangled."
"Thanks," I replied, a hint of a smile twitching my lips. "As if I already didn't have enough self-esteem issues."
"That's not what I meant," she rebutted, a lightness to her tone. "I'm just worried about you. And I hate..." She took a shaky breath. "I hate that I can't be there to comfort you."
"You are here," I insisted. "Right now. Chatting with me. And that's enough." Leaning forward, I caressed her pixelated face with the tip of my finger. "How are you though? Last time we talked, you seemed...defeated."
She raised her gaze towards the ceiling, gnawing on her lip. When she lowered her sights back down, a fresh batch of tears shimmered in her cocoa eyes. "Honestly? I wake up every day regretting my choice to come here. I made a huge mistake, Matt." She paused. "I've been toying with the idea of not returning to New York come next semester. I'll take the spring off and use that time to apply to some local collages."
"Vanessa..."
She held up her hand. "I know what you're going to say, Matt but this is what I want. I'm unhappy here."
I gazed down at my lap, tracing circles onto the thigh of my jeans, knowing full well that I was the one responsible for holding her back. If we weren't together...
Clearing my throat, I glanced back up at her. "Tell you what. Can you at least wait it out until the end of the year? If you still despise where you are at, then I'll fully support your decision to leave. You're homesick right now and it's going to take some time to adjust to your new life."
She hesitated, shrouding us in a thick fog of silence. Then slowly, she nodded. "Alright. One more semester but I'm telling you; I won't change my mind."
Her features immediately softened as a tender smile lit up her face. "Now, as for your problem. It would be a crime for me to hire out a hit on Troy and Scott, but I can at least provide a nice distraction..."
"Oh?" I arched my brow, wondering what exactly she had in mind, but it didn't take long for the answer to reveal itself as she slowly lifted her t-shirt up over her head. She wadded the fabric into a ball before tossing it aside.
I raked my gaze over the screen, devouring the sight of her breasts spilling over her simple black bra. Slowly, she began to fondle one. "If you were here right now," she whispered, her voice husky. "This is what I would be begging you to do to me."
"Go on." I steepled my hands together and pressed them against my chin, engrossed in what she was doing to herself. "I'm also certain if I were there, I would be letting my fingers wander into a more southern region."
"Of course." She gave me a seductive grin, gliding her palm down her chest, across her abdomen and then into the waistband of her shorts.
I whimpered softly as she began touching herself. "What does it feel like? You know...for uh...immersive purposes."
She giggled. "Warm. Wet..."
A strangled sound escaped my throat. "And what would you be doing to me?" Giddily, I undid the fly of my jeans, my hand poised above my arousal.
"Well...I-I-I-I-I-" Her voice began to suddenly stutter as the image of her on the screen froze before going black.
"No...no...no..." I pleaded, slapping the screen but it was no use. She was erased from my vision. I promptly scrambled to video call her back, but the connection kept failing.
"Nooo," I cried. Groaning, I raked my hands through my hair before slumping down in my seat. Perhaps, she has a point about this whole long-distance thing being a royal pain in the ass.
***