CAFE WORK...
Emma, though he found it hard to believe despite everything he's heard, was denser than rock.
Aaron stood back as he studied the class clowns working, with the other waiters, she looked like a ballerina in sync with the rest of choreography, entertaining the audience, working together with her coworkers. He sighed. Speaking of coworkers, there were two aliens in the mix with these professional dancers.
Oliver, through coaxing and a little begging he guessed, got a temp job as waiter to survey Emma. The other alien was Eliot Wander was a sore thumb sticking out from a pool of paint. People usually exaggerate his height, but he was definitely tall. More than once had he been scouted to play height-preferred sports, but the giant would always turn them down despite his financial troubles that only few know about. He was, after all, a street artist through and through.
Aaron internally laughed the next second. If Emma and the rest of the experienced waiters were like a choreographed Swan Lake, Oliver and Eli were country dancers out of place.
"Samder." It was the manager of the place. Aaron knew him by his acquaintanceship with the eldest Heir: Zack Fluorescent. "I told you to get orders, not flirt an entire half-hour away. We're packed today!"
Oliver looked contrite. "I can't help it." He defended. "They started it."
"I don't care." Aiden was trying to look strict and was half-passing. "I'll have to move you to clean up duty. Bust some tables, cupid." With that, he turned and immediately went over to the newest recruit yet. "Wander! I told you to mop the tiles, not open a floodgate!"
No one but Emma and Aaron noticed his brow twitch when Aiden used the word 'cupid'.
And so it was said, so it had to be done. Oliver kept his pen and notepad away and went back to the kitchen. A minute or so later, he came out with a basin wide enough to be filled with plates, cups, and the gunk people leave behind after eating a cake or drinking coffee. Aaron got bored then, and decided to study Emma instead.
Their eyes met at the exact same time, Emma's a glare and his of boredom. Much to the class clown's annoyance, the clubber broke eye contact first.
She was way too easy, did she know that? Obviously she doesn't, Aaron decided. When will she realize, he wondered, that she should just stop trying to make friends with him? He only interacted with her because of her association to Oliver. And he only interacted with him because they were assigned to be partners until graduation. He sighed, losing a little bit of dull happiness from his soul. If only his life could be a party 24/7. Alas, no one can have everything.
"Can I take your order?"
He looked up to see the waitress standing beside his table, a notepad and pen at the ready to write down whatever he would say. He gave her a once-over. Braiding one's hair seemed to be a fad this semester, but this girl had a cuteness that made her style her own. She wasn't necessarily, beautiful, definitely not his type, but she was definitely easy on the eyes. He looked at her nametag over her apron, and her surname made him inwardly wince.
Towers...
He smiled. "Decaf."
She smiled back. "It'll be ready in a minute."
And with that, she left, most probably to take another table's orders.
Aaron sighed. Towers. The only Towers he knew of was a senior, and if he knew any better, he'd stay away from any possible relations of the guy. He was a heartthrob at the senior department, and if first impressions last well, Aaron deduced the guy was the protective type toward any female relation.
He was looking down at his phone when Emma passed him and left a note on his table. They never made eye-contact.
Emma watched from a distance as Aaron looked over the note, gave her a side-glance, then crumpled it before shoving it into his pocket. She inwardly sighed.
"You doing all right?"
She squealed at the voice behind her, and instinctively backed away, wary. "I'm fine!" She squeaked.
Oliver cocked a brow. "You sure? You've been staring at Aaron since your shift started."
"W-well, he never really comes by here—you know, since I started working here and I- I just... Uh..."
Her eyes were darting everywhere else but on him, and he felt like she was trying to find a way to make him disappear. He sighed. "Will you talk to me, please?"
Did she make him feel like she was avoiding him? She hoped he got the message through. "I—"
"Emma!"
She thanked God for having Aiden call her. "Gotta go." She excused, a little too fast for casual goodbye.
And then she left. He couldn't help but drop his shoulders before continuing on with his onuses.
Meanwhile, by the corner-most table of the indoor Café, with by the window where the best view of outside was but just hidden enough that it would go unnoticed by usual spectators, three students sat with the most unpopular choices of coffee on the table. One had a fedora over his head of spiky brown hair, another had a stylish halter dress topped with a warm fleece, concealing her outfit's panache, and the last one wore a pink scarf around his neck, his red overcoat draped over his seat.
They had witnessed the spectacle by the girl's prodding, and as Emma and Oliver parted ways, their eyes glinted at the discovery of the next big thing.
Angelena sipped at her thoughtfully Banana-Vanilla milkshake, wondering why she was just now realizing that the two might know each other. Not once did she ever see Emma interact with Oliver in any scenario, and that alone could mean two things since they both have so many classes together.
A.) It was a work of faith that they never interacted, or
B.) They didn't want to interact.
However, the scene earlier defied both possibilities, which would mean another thing:
C.) they didn't want others to see them interact.
Or it could just have been Emma, based on her actions, and Oliver's blatant disappointment.
"You've got that glint in your eyes."
Angelena looked at Nate, who spoke, and grinned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't patronize the freshy, Angel."
She pouted at DeShawn, who merely gave her a lopsided grin. "You saw them. There's got to be something going on."
"Please stop acting like a nosy prep, Angelena." Nate asked of her, seeming only a third interested in what he was soliciting.
"Well, I'm either a slacker or a prep." She said simply, taking a sip from her drink. "You tell me what I am."
Nate was about to answer, but DeShawn interfered. "You're neither." He stated. "And yet you are both. You're a hipster, but then again, that's not for us to say, is it?"
Angelena smiled sweetly. "That's DeShawn for you."
"So you won't bother them? Oliver's a cool cat, I don't want you sticking your nose at anyone's business."
"Awww...." Angelena sounded, sincerely touched. She glared at DeShawn. "At least someone cares enough to stop me."
"Whatever it is I say, you won't listen anyway." He answered, then took a sip at the straw of his Five Seasons Latte. "So there's no point. I've known you long enough."
She stuck his tongue out at him, then turned to Nate with a smile. The freshy still looked worried. She smiled wider. "Oh don't be like that." She gestured dismissively. "I'm not going to do anything that volatile."
Nate looked even more worried.
"Let her have her fun, freshy." DeShawn chided, though his heart wasn't in his words. "It's the sophomores' time to shine this week."
"And what makes you say that?" Nate asked inquisitively. "Is there an event I'm supposed to know about? Something about this week's party?"
"All in good time, freshy." The junior said in a vague manner. "All in good time."
Nate cocked a brow as Angelena laughed heartily, though soft enough to not catch attention. Then, for the last time, she took a quick side-glance at the pair on different sides of the café, and smirked wonkily.
This should be fun.