I never talked to Mara Lange again. Well, I never talked to her during the next few weeks.
She tried texting me, and even went as far as asking my mother about me, but I never shared her interest in mending the friendship. I never told my mother or stepfather about what had happened with Spenser. I told them that things had just fallen apart with time, and let them believe whatever they wanted to. Things seemed easier that way: allowing everyone to fill in the blanks themselves, never having to answer all of their questions.
It wasn’t until I got a job at the local diner, that I was forced to interact with Mara, Spenser, or any of the new friends they’d made—including the infamous Melanie. For some reason the manager had decided we only needed three people working that night: the cook, the janitor, and me. Of course I wasn't going to say anything to my manager, I did want to keep my job.
Everything was going fine until I saw Mara's car pull into the parking lot. At first I thought it was just her mother, or even one of her sisters, but then she climbed from the car--with Spenser, and who I believed was Melanie, in tow. Mara was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt that I'd gotten her during our senior year of high school. Well actually it was mine; if you looked on the inside tag it read Cahlan in big, scribbly letters.
Besides my shirt, she was wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts--which just happened to be her favorite pair-- as well as a pair of aviators. Her blonde hair had gotten longer, and she'd chose to wear it loose and wavy. I always thought she resembled Blake Lively when she wore her hair like that. Of course, she didn't think so. She preferred to be compared to "more serious actresses, like Charlize Theron." She looked nothing like Charlize. She never would.
I didn't bother looking at Spenser or Melanie. It still hurt to think about the two of them going behind my back and spending countless nights together. If he was so unhappy in our relationship, he should have just ended it. It's that simple. But no, he had to string me along and make me believe that all was okay. Douchebag.
I was washing a table off whenever they entered the restaurant.
"Oh Spenser, you're so funny!" Melanie squealed. Oh my gosh, her voice. She sounded like Janice from Friends. I could barely contain my laughter as I grabbed a few menus and sauntered up to their table.
"Welcome to Gretta's," I said as cheerfully as possible. I shifted my weight between my feet as I waited for at least one of them to reply. Mara and Spenser merely glanced at each other and then at me. Melanie, on the other hand...
"Oh my gosh!" She squealed. "I looooove this place! It's so cute!"
I glanced around at the old, very worn diner. It was a small restaurant, with about ten booths and a few bright red tables. The floors were made of black and white tiles, and there were tons of Elvis memorabilia scattered across the walls. It was definitely a retro-looking place.
"Umm, thanks," I mumbled, raising an eyebrow. I handed them their menus, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Spenser. I hadn't talked to him ever since the night I found out that he'd been cheating.
"Are you from around here?" Melanie asked, smiling brightly. She had long black hair that stopped right below her chest, and even darker eyes. She was petite and wore a lot of makeup.
"Yep," I replied. "I've lived here my entire life."
"Oh really! Do you know Spenser and Mara, then?" I watched as she wove her fingers between Spenser's. For a moment my eyes were locked on the two of them. She honestly didn't know that Spenser and I had dated, which meant she didn't know that she'd been with a cheater for the entirety of their relationship. While most girls would have jumped at that chance, to ruin her ex boyfriend's new relationship, I chose not to. Someone had to be the bigger person, right?
Swallowing the lump that formed in my throat, I put on my brightest, fakest smile. "You know what? I'm not so sure. I think we went to high school together."
Mara's head jerked to look at me; from my peripheral I noticed her jaw drop. Her pale brows furrowed and her jaw tensed. You didn't want to be my friend, remember?
Spenser cleared his throat and sat upright. He had the worst posture; no matter how much I told him to sit up, he never would. He only did it when he was uncomfortable. Like now.
"What a shame," Melanie sighed. "They're great."
"Good." I said quickly. "What drinks can I get for you?" Mara would get a sweet tea and Spenser would get water. It's what they always got.
"Sweet tea," Mara replied.
"Water," Spenser answered.
"Water for me too," Melanie added.
After I retrieved their drinks, I returned to an empty table. Exhaling loudly, I shook my head and sat the glasses on the sticky table. A note was scrawled on a napkin: Decided we didn't want to eat here after all.
"So that's how it's going to be," I mumbled, crumpling the napkin in my palm.
I was washing tables later that evening, whenever the door chimed. We were set to close in ten minutes, but the restaurant's policy said that we couldn't leave if someone decided to come in at the last minute and order. Praying it wasn't a customer, I turned to the door. Only to find Niall standing there. Ever since the infamous cheating scandal occurred, he'd made a point to text me every few days and see how I was doing. If I didn't know any better, I would've guessed that he liked me.
"Hey," I smiled, tossing the dishrag I was holding onto a nearby table. He sauntered up to me and pulled me into a hug. I hadn't seen him in about a month, and had no idea why he was even there.
"Hello," he replied. His voice was deep and charming; I couldn't believe that I'd nearly forgotten what he sounded like! "How've you been?"
"Mmm, I've been okay," I replied, twirling the end of my ponytail with my fingers.
"Just okay?"
"Yep," I sighed. "Mara and Spenser came in earlier... with Melanie."
"Ah." His pale eyes looked so... sad. But he had nothing to be sad about. Spenser was just a boy and Melanie was just a girl. I didn't want to be the girl that everyone felt sorry for. I'd rather move on and leave the broken pieces behind. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself that I want.
"But it's okay, I'm fine. Are you going to be eating, or...?"
Niall glanced around and bit his bottom lip. "I don't know, I mean there's so many people here, wherever will I sit?" Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a menu from the register and led him to a booth in the corner.
"I won't be here long," he promised. "I just wanted to stop by."
"No hurry, I'm just cleaning up."
"I'd just like a water, thanks." He handed me the menu.
"You came here for water?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," he smiled. "I wanted to see you."
"Oh really? Why is that?"
"I just did."
"Mmkay," I laughed, walking off. I came back a few minutes later with two waters and a basket of fries that the cook was just about to throw out.
"Oooh, fries!" He cooed, snatching a few up. I sat across from him in the booth and put my head on the table. "What's wrong, love?"
Why does he call me love?
"I'm ready to get out of here," I groaned. It'd been a long, boring day at work, and all I wanted was to get out of that uniform and into some comfortable clothes.
"What are you doing after work?" He asked, taking a sip of his water.
"I don't know. I didn't have anything planned."
"Would you like to go out?"
Raising my head, I returned his gaze. "What?"
"You heard me," he smiled, revealing his perfectly straight, white teeth. I couldn't help but notice the pale stubble on his chin, the way it accentuated his chiseled jaw line--
"Way to stare, Cahlan," he teased, winking one of his pale eyes. "So, are we going out?"
"I don't know..."
"Why not? It's not like it's a date or anything."
My face fell. No matter how hard I tried to mask it, I couldn't. Ever since the night at Niall's, I'd developed a small crush on him. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. He was always there for me, willing to listen when I needed to vent...
"Hey," he said gently, lifting my chin so that I could meet his gaze. I averted my eyes to an Elvis poster on the wall. I didn't want him to know that I at least cared a little bit."I didn't mean it like that."
"It's okay." I stood up, brushing any loose salt off of me. "I'm going to clean up, I'll talk to you when I get off. I think I'm just going to go home."
And just like, I closed myself off to Niall. Niall, the boy who could've had my heart, if only he'd wanted it.