"WHAT DO YOU mean I'm supposed to get a job?!" I exclaim, my eyes wide as I stare at my mom in disbelief.
"I mean if you want to keep having a cellphone, you need to be able to pay the bill yourself. Money's tight, Peyton," she explains while buttering her toast at the kitchen counter. "Between the mortgage, the maintenance bills and the car payments, I don't have much left over. And if we're going to eat a hot dinner every night, everyone's got to pitch in."
I hitch my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of Jayden, who'd only just entered the kitchen this morning. "And are you going to make him pay his way too? Or is this just me?"
Mommy's Boy walks over to to Mom and pecks a kiss on her cheeks before turning to me with a smug grin on his face. "A friend of mine hooked me up with a job answering phones at his dad's auto shop."
My glare shifts to him, sour enough to spoil the milk in my cereal. "You know I have no experience, right, Mom?! Nobody's going to hire me to even sweep floors."
Mom rolls her eyes, taking a bite out of her toast while simultaneously throwing her hair up into a ponytail. "As a matter of fact, an old friend of mine owns the diner by your grandmother's apartment building. When I stopped in for a coffee yesterday she told me they have a waitressing position open. It's all yours, you just need to pop by after school and introduce yourself."
Muttering obscenities under my breath, I resume stirring my cereal around my bowl more angrily. "How am I supposed to work and still keep my grades up enough to hold onto my NYU acceptance?"
"Normal teenagers have jobs, Peyton," Mom coos, kissing my hair quickly as she heads for the front door. "You'll manage. Now, I've go to get to the store. Can I drive you two to school this morning or is it still considered embarrassing to get a reuse with your mom?"
"Nah, you're a cool mom," Jayden smiles, wholeheartedly accepting her offer, grabbing a protein bar from the pantry and jogging out the front door. "I call shotgun!"
Grumbling away, I dump the rest of my cereal down the sink and follow.
The bell jingles overhead as I push open the front door to Pauli's Diner.
Mom had told us stories about Pauli's from when she was a teenager. It had been a staple for families in Rock Valley since the fifties, and had always been the it hang out spot for teens. Mom had gone on her first few dates here, drank milkshakes with her friends, and gone for coffee whenever she was in town to visit her mother over these years.
Even I can tell that it hasn't changed months over the years. The bright turquoise vinyl seat coverings look like they've been replaced a few times since opening, and the hot pink walls given a fresh coat of paint. But all off the old photographs and fluorescent designs on the walls are just how Mom described them. The white countertops and tabletops shine in the fluorescent light, as well as the black and white checkered floor. There's even a jukebox in the corner, and by the looks of it, it's vintage.
"What can I do for you, hun?" A lilted voice chimes out over the dull murmur of conversation.
I turn to face a woman about my mother's age standing behind the register, the only piece of modern technology in the place. She's dressed in a white blouse and turquoise skirt, complete with a white apron tied around her waist. Her dark blonde hair is tied up in a twisted bun on her head, but a few wisps fall out around her face. According to the name tag on her uniform, her name is Natalie.
I approach the counter, leaning forward on my elbows. "Um, my mom told me to stop by after school. She said she was talking to someone about a part-time job?"
A look of recognition crosses over her face, soon replaced by a wide smile. "I'll be, you're Helen Mantalos' girl, aren't you? Peyton, right?"
I nod my head with a smile. Hearing my mom's being referred to by her maiden name sounds so weird to me. For seventeen years she'd been Helen Church, esteemed wife of Joshua Church. It hadn't even crossed my mind that with the divorce she may very well be going back to my grandmother's name.
"That's me. You two were friends when you were my age, right?"
"The best. Your mom actually worked here for a few weeks back then. But, let me tell you, she's a mighty big clutz," Natalie laughs.
I can't help but laugh as well. My mother, who could run a marathon in Louboutins without breaking a heel, had once been an awkward, unbalanced teenager. "Well, you'll be happy to hear I have lots of practice with balance. That is, if you want me."
"Oh hush now!" She exclaims, lifting up a section of the counter and coming over to stand beside with. I look down with a sigh of relief to notice she's wearing Keds, and not something silly like roller skates. "We'd love to have you. We just had a waitress head out for maternity leave the other day, and I need to find a replacement for her immediately."
I nod along as she motions for me to follow her to a nearby table, where an elderly couple is enjoying a cup of coffee and biscuits.
"Now, it's mostly for weekends. I know you have school, but if you could be free on Wednesday and Friday evenings every now and again, that'd be great. You'll just be waitressing, so taking orders, bringing them back to the kitchen, serving them. We have a couple of busboys to clear up the tables, so no need to worry about that."
"Of course. As long as I have time to get my homework done, I'm good. I don't really have anything else in my free time."
"Perfect!" Natalie grins, clasping her hands together and inviting me to take a seat at the counter. "My kids are in school too. I'm happy to hear you prioritize that, you could sure teach my kids a thing or two."
"Oh, do they go to the high school?" Not that I'd necessarily know them if they did, but I figure it's polite to ask.
Natalie blows a wisp of hair out of her eyes, just as the bell from the kitchen pings. "My two youngest are still in middle school, but my oldest daughter's about your age. Maybe you know her? Her name's Addison."
I let out a little laugh. "Actually, Addison's one of the few friends I've made since I've got here. She's a really nice girl. I can see the resemblance."
"Oh, don't go telling her that. No teenage girl wants to be compared to her mother, am I right?" She chuckles, pulling out a thin stack of papers from behind the counter. "I've got to get these plates out to the customers, but if you want to fill this out, I'll be back in a jiff!"
While Addison's mom bustles about serving plates, I fill out the paperwork she's given me. It's a basic contract, stating my terms and conditions for working here. I fill out my name, age and address, and sign off on the conditions just as she returns. "Here you go."
She takes a second to flip through it, not nearly enough to actually double-check my work, and smiles. "Looks good! How would you like to start on Saturday? That'll give me chance to get your uniform shipped out. A small, I presume?"
I nod my head, not bothering to correct her. I'd be better off with a bigger skirt anyways if I have any hopes of it covering my ass appropriately. The curse of being tall and slim.
"Perfect, I look forward to working with you, hun. Can I get you a little something to take back with you? On the house," she grins.
"Actually, a coffee and a slice of that banana loaf my mom raves about would be amazing, if it's not too much to ask."
"Absolutely!"
Ten minutes later, I'm walking down the street towards my house, a bright pink to-go cup of hot coffee clasped greedily between my cold hands. While it's not dark out yet, a cold wind has blown in from the mountains, dropping the temperature more than a few degrees. And, of course, I didn't bother grabbing any gloves this morning.
The walk from the diner to the house is about thirty minutes. It might be a small town, but it turns out we live closer to the outskirts of town, while the diner is on the other side of downtown. It's nothing to complain about, really, seeing as I'm used to walking. And it's not exactly like I can drive there myself.
I'll just consider all this walking as my daily exercise.
By the time I reach the school, where I'd purposely left all of my books, I'm fresh out of coffee. I'd decided against bringing my bag with me to the diner because I didn't see the point in lugging my text books all the way there when I was going to pass by the school on the way home anyways. And now I'm thankful I made that choice, because it gives me a few minutes to warm up again before stumbling back into the cold wind.
It's been an hour since school let out, and the parking lot is barren. Apparently we're between sports seasons right now, which are essentially only soccer, football and co-Ed track and field, and clubs aren't a very big thing here. Aside from the janitor, most of the staff had already packed up and headed home for dinner.
The hallways are dead quiet when I walk in, my chunky heels echoing against the linoleum as I scurry towards my locker, my hands furiously rubbing together to warm up. Somewhere in the distance I can hear soft music playing from a speaker, probably by the gymnasium.
I spin my combination into my lock quickly when I reach my locker, eager to get home. Making quick work of it, i stuff my history and math textbooks into my backpack along with my notebooks and slam my locker shut.
Pulling my cellphone out of my coat pocket, I check my texts.
I'm so engrossed in my phone as I'm walking down the hallway, that I don't even notice the figure walking directly towards me until I feel the impact of my body against hard muscle.
"Woah!" He exclaims, two warm hands wrapping around my biceps as we spin around in a circle together. "You good?"
Thankful I didn't land on the floor this time, I nod, tucking my phone back into my pocket. The guy in front of me in a few inches shorter than me, which isn't surprising. But his lean muscled arms and dashing smile catch my attention. "Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn't looking where I was going, I guess."
"It's cool," he says, his hands dropping from my arms as his eyes give me a slow once over. "Hey, I've seen you around a couple times. You're the new girl, right?"
I flash him a smile. "I guess that's my official title now, huh? I'm Peyton."
"Nice to meet you, Peyton," he grins unevenly, holding out a hand in my direction. "I'm Ethan."
I take his outstretched hand, frankly surprised by his display of manners and civility. No apparent caveman tendencies in sight.
"So, what are you doing here this late?" He asks, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his low hanging track pants.
I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was shamelessly checking him out. For a small town, there's actually quite a few good looking guys. Apparently, there's nothing better to do around these parts than workout. That, or there's something freaky going on in the water. "I, um, left my books here earlier. I was just coming back for them before I walk home."
Ethan looks back over his shoulder, surveying outside through the front doors. "It's got to be chilly out this time of evening. That all you got?" He asks, waving at my light spring jacket.
"Yeah. Not the brightest idea. But, in my defence it was warm when I put it on this morning."
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. "Say, my friend and I were just about to head home. Why don't we give you a lift?"
I consider his offer for about three second before I fix him with a glowing smile. "That'd be really great. Are you sure your friend won't mind?" For added measure, I bat my eyelashes a couple of times and dig my teeth into my bottom lip just a little bit.
No, I'm not above flirting to get myself a warm ride home.
His lips spread into a wide grin. "Nah, he's a cool guy. He should be out in a minute, just had to lock up the weight room for the night."
"Dude, Kiera texted me," calls a familiar deep voice. "Hurry up, I told her I'd be right over."
The flirty smile falls off of my face before he could even finish saying "dude."
"For crying out loud," I groan, turning my head slowly to catch a glimpse of the one and only Hunter Maddox jogging down the hall with his phone in hand.
The blue-eyed menace looks up just in time, too, meeting my gaze with a crooked smirk. "Ah, I see you've met Skirt here. Did she try to maul you, too?"
Ethan rolls his brown eyes as his friend approaches, before flicking them towards me in an apologetic look. "I see you've already met Peyton then, Hunt?"
Hunter ignores him, of course, instead looking down to inspect my outfit. "Nice skirt, Skirt. Say, this one's shorter than yesterday's, isn't it?" He chuckles, not bothering to hide the fact he's checking out my non-existent ass.
He's not wrong, unfortunately. Today's corduroy button-up skirt is in fact a few inches shorter than the one I wore yesterday. But I'm not about to tell him that. "Stop calling me that, asshole. And this is me, once again acknowledging that you're staring at me," I bite, gritting my teeth and narrowing my eyes.
"Lay off, man. You're sweaty as fuck. Go shower," Ethan mutters, shoving Hunter's shoulder roughly.
Donning a self-satisfied smirk, he backed away down the hallway. "Kind of pointless, man. Kiera's a workout of her own." With a wink he disappeared.
"I'm so sorry for that shithead. I've tried teaching him manners, but it's like teaching a stick to bark," Ethan sighs, one side of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile.
A laugh bubbles past my lips. "Not your fault."
"Is it safe to assume you're not going to be wanting that ride, then?" He chuckles sadly, scratching his cheek with a his hand. "I really wouldn't blame you."
"I'd kind of like to keep all my hair in my head," I laugh lightly. "And unfortunately, that wont happen if I have to spend ten minutes in a car with that guy."
"Too bad. Maybe another time then?"
"Definitely," I smile. "I'll see you around."
Ethan nods, and I make my way for the cold night beyond the doors. But I only make it a few steps before I hear my name being called.
"Peyton?"
I turn back to see Ethan jogging up to me. "So, crazy idea, but I'm having a party Saturday night. You're welcome to come if you want. I mean, it won't be any big production or anything— just a bunch of kids from school. There's not much else to do around here. So... if you're interested..."
With a straight face, I pull a pen out from my bag and grab ahold of Ethan'a hand. He looks at his outstretched arm, confused, but doesn't stop me from pressing my pen to his palm and writing my little note.
When I pull back and allow his hand to drop out of my grasp, I fix him with the flirtiest smile I can manage. "I'd love to."
Ethan looks down at the note I left for him on his palm— my cellphone number— and grins. "Cool. Great. I'll text you my address then?"
"Absolutely. Oh, would you mind if I brought a friend along? Just, the whole being new thing, it's nice to have somebody else I actually know around, you know?"
His grin falters for a second before he nods enthusiastically. "No problem. I totally get it. The more the merrier, right?"
"Great," I say, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'll see you then."
"You bet. See you, Peyton!"
This time, I make it out the door and into the bitter cold air. I rub my hands together in the cold, heading towards the street.
I can't help but smile to myself as I walk down the street towards the house. So far, I'm actually starting to feel like I could have some semblance of a life here in Rock Valley. I've only been here for a week, but I've managed to make a couple of genuine friends, got an actual normal-person job, and got an invite to a party from a relatively cute guy. This week had been far more prosperous than I'd had in mind.
At the reminder of the party on Saturday, I pull my phone out of my pocket and type out a text message to one of my new contacts.
Three days, three updates. We're on a roll!
So... how's everyone feeling so far? What's do we think of Ethan? Let me know in the comments!
Until next time, Dave Franco gif anyone?
Lots of love...