I ripped the plastic packet open with my teeth and shuffled the new napkins in between my fingers. Refilling the napkin dispensers was one of the easier maintenance jobs I had to do at Paul’s, but that didn’t stop it from being ridiculously monotonous. Sure, it kept my hands busy but it left my mind ridiculously free to wander off to topics I had already spent the last twenty-four hours dissecting.
Our high school wasn’t exactly the sort of place you would expect to find someone beaten to a pulp, so the image of my shift partners’ already-bruising face seemed to be on constant repeat.
Call me innocent if you want to, but I saw it as an achievement that I had managed to go seventeen whole years without having to witness something like that first-hand. Sure I had seen those dumb middle-school fights where we would all stand in a circle chanting as two thirteen year olds shoved each other a couple of times, but I had never seen anything like, like that. I desperately wanted to believe it was a ‘You should see the other guy’ kind of fight, but something was telling me that he had been the other guy. And the results had not been pretty.
I snapped the lid down on the last dispenser just as the bell above the door jingled. Pasting my best fake smile onto my face, I gathered a handful of dispensers in my arms.
“Just give me two seconds and I’ll be right on over, please take a seat and have a look at our newly revised menu,” I rattled off, stopping every so often to place the napkins on the plastic tabletops. Straightening a salt shaker, I turned to see a black hoodie disappearing through the swing door.
Considering the chances of someone robbing the diner period, never mind at half three on a Thursday afternoon, were pretty low there was only one other possible explanation. Of course that was also the explanation which caused my heart to jump painfully into my mouth.
He didn’t turn up for his shift yesterday, not that I had expected him to. Having your face smashed in was reason enough in my book to skip work, so I had kept my mouth zipped to Paul and managed on my own. What had worried me however was when he didn’t show up for school that day, believe me I had looked for him. Needless to say Everett hadn’t been too pleased when I dragged him all over campus, everywhere from the library to behind the science labs, without so much as an explanation but I just had to check. I attempted to convince him to just go and wait for me at our usual table, but he just shoved his hands into his jean pockets and followed me with a grim determination.
I swallowed noisily before creeping my way back around the counter. I was gathering up my second armful of dispensers when the door hit the wall lightly behind me, and I heard his shoes squeak along the tiles.
“Just grab these and place one on every table,” I said lightly, edging back out to the main diner. The slight squeaking noise told me he had followed my lead.
Shooting a glance out of the corner of my eye, I had to bite down on my lip to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. The bruise on his left cheekbone had darkened overnight, his unusually-sharp bone structure hidden beneath a deep-purple bruise. Quickly adverting my eyes, I put down another dispenser before discreetly looking back. I continued the same pattern – look, wince, advert, place, and repeat – until he eventually slammed down his last napkin holder.
“Can you stop that?”
“Stop what?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.
“Staring at me.”
Alright, so maybe I hadn’t been all that discreet.
“I wasn’t staring at you,” I said lightly, brushing past him to pick a rag up from the counter. I began furiously polishing the faux-marble top, anything to avoid making eye contact.
“Sure you weren’t,” he snorted, his back to me. His pale fingers were fiddling with a salt shaker, coincidentally the one I had specifically adjusted. The skin on his knuckles was still smooth, undisturbed. Odd for someone who had been in a fight the day before.
An awkward silence descended onto the diner. I did my best fish impression, my mind drawing a blank as to ways to break the ice between us. It was easier to ignore the elephant in the room when the diner was full of people, but when it was just the two of us left to our own devices it was entirely more obvious.
“You weren’t at school today.”
It seemed my brains default when stuck for topics was to state the blatantly obvious.
“No,” he said slowly, after what seemed like an eternity.
“Why?”
He sighed, his shoulders visibly moving up and down, before he turned quickly on his heel to face me. I couldn’t help but gasp loudly, my hand flying up to my mouth.
The bruise on his left cheek was only the beginning. His right eye was completely sealed shut, the right side of his face almost completely taken over by the huge bruise. His lip was puffy and swelled, dried blood caked along the jagged split. Had Halloween not been until the following week, I would have thought he was wearing some pretty realistic stage makeup.
He winced, quickly turning back around. A red blush spread up the back of his exposed neck.
“I-I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “It’s just, oh my God.” I shook my head, clearing my throat. Without realising it my hands had started to shake.
“Can we just get back to work?” he said through gritted teeth. His voice was levelled but it sounded forced.
“Yeah, yeah sure.” I nodded quickly. I turned to pick up the rag from the counter and moved towards one of the tables, wiping down the surface with still-shaky hands.
“Thank you,” he huffed. He tucked his shirt into the waistband of his jeans and then walked behind the counter to retrieve another rag. We worked in silence for a few minutes before I took it upon myself to break the tension once again.
“Does it hurt?”
He sighed loudly and threw the cloth down onto the table. “What do you want?”
“Me?” I asked stupidly.
“Yes, you.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said nonchalantly, moving onto the next table.
“Then why are you still trying to talk to me?”
He shot me another glance before picking his rag back up. Apparently he was satisfied that the conversation was over.
Nice try, buddy.
“I just feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot. I’d like it if we could start over, a fresh start.”
He snorted in response.
“Come on,” I whined “I’m trying to make things right there”
“Why?” he asked, bewildered.
“I already told you, because I feel like you and I-”
“Look,” he cut me off “I don’t need your pity.” his voice was low, strained.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have it then.” I shot back “My pity is reserved only for people who don’t cost me a days worth of wages.”
He snorted again, but it sounded softer this time. Friendlier even.
“So come on, humour me.” I turned to him and extended my hand towards him confidently “Hi there, I’m Frankie Grahams.”
His gaze flickered from my face to my outstretched hand, and for a minute I didn’t think he would shake it. I chewed the corner of my lip self-consciously, doubt seeping in.
“Sebastian,” he said finally. His rough skin brushed against mine as his hand enveloped my significantly smaller one.
“Well Sebastian, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” I grinned.
“Likewise Frankie Grahams.” he nodded slightly, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth “Likewise.”
~
It would be a lie if I said that Sebastian and I instantly became best friends after our brief chat, but no one could deny that it was easier to work alongside someone when you actually knew their name. I think even Beau noticed the lack of frost in the atmosphere. Sure, the creepy truckers and stressed families had still been there, but at least I didn’t have to waste energy sending angry glances his way.
I stood outside the back exit, my knees knocking together slightly in the chilly night air. Jake still hadn’t shown up yet, meaning I was stuck waiting for him to arrive. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and checked the time once again.
It wasn’t like Jake to be late.
I rolled onto the balls of my toes, jumping slightly to keep warm. As I had previously mentioned, this parking lot gave me the creeps and having to stand alone waiting for my stupid brother was not helping this fear. Just as I was contemplating ringing him to see where he was, a pair of headlights spun in and pulled to a stop a few metres away from me. I took a hasty step back, my back connecting with the metal door painfully.
The driver threw open his door and I inhaled a sharp breath, preparing to start screaming for all I was worth. That is, until I realised it wasn’t some axe murderer who was planning to kidnap me but in fact my Dad.
“Frankie, what’re you still doing standing there like a deer in headlights?” he shook his head at me “Get in the car.”
My shoulders instantly relaxed and I placed a hand over my racing heart. This stupid parking lot made me entirely too paranoid. I didn’t have to be told twice, I half-ran around the back of my Dads old Sedan and jumped in.
“Hey Dad,” I greeted him, surprise evident in my voice. I couldn’t remember the last him he had picked me up instead of Jake. I actually didn’t think it had ever happened before.
“Hey yourself.” he grinned “feel’s like I should be saying ‘long time, no see’ to my own daughter.”
I laughed, but didn’t deny it. Mostly because it was the truth.
“I’m serious, I see Kelly more and she works in the ER.”
“Midnight meetings in the hall when she’s been called in and you’re just coming home don’t count, Dad.” I rolled my eyes good-naturedly, reaching up to pull my hair from the elastic band I had secured it back with.
“Still, least I can see for myself she’s still alive. All I ever get these days is second-hand stories through your mother, especially about you and Grace.” he shook his head, his gaze still locked on the dark road in front of him “I mean, did you know that they’re considering letting Gracie skip the seventh grade?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had known about that since September, a whole month before. So I just grunted slightly in response, trying to sound surprise.
“It’s crazy.” he shook his head again “It scares me thinking about Grace even going into the seventh grade, never mind her skipping it altogether! And you-” his eyes flickered over to me, a soft smile on his lips “already in your senior year of high school.” his head flew back against the headrest “A senior!” he repeated “Sometimes it feels likes all of you are growing up too fast, and I just can’t keep up.”
The headlights of a passing car allowed me to see his pained expression, and I shifted awkwardly in my seat.
“We understand why though,” I said softly “We know the garage is important to you. It’s important to all of us.”
“Not as important as our family is.”
“We couldn’t survive without it though.”
“We’re barely surviving as it is.”
His words rang through the car and I winced at the truth that lay behind them. It was the first time either of my parents had admitted to how bad things were. I wasn’t stupid, of course I knew that things were tough, but somehow hearing Dad acknowledge it made it all the more real.
“Hey,” he said eventually, glancing across at me again “Hey my girlie” he took a hand from the steering wheel, and stretched it across to me. I grabbed it lightly “Now don’t you go worrying about a thing.” he applied slightly pressure to our intertwined hands “That’s mine and your Mom’s job. Don’t you worry about one damn thing, you hear me?”
“Alright,” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand one last time, before gently pulling away and settling his hand back on the wheel. Luckily we were almost home, so it wasn’t long before Dad pulled into our driveway. A dog from down the street started barking frantically when we got out of the car. Jingling his keys and whistling slightly, Dad led the way up the porch steps to the front door.
“We’re ho-ome,” he called, creating two syllables out of one as was his custom.
“Oh hey you two.” Mom smiled, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked out from the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around Dad’s neck and started kissing him, making me feel about as comfortable as seeing your two parents ‘getting it on’ could. So not comfortable at all.
I rolled my eyes and sidestepped past them, walking into the kitchen.
“Mom and Dad going at it again?” Kelly asked. I nodded in response, my mouth turned down in a slight grimace.
“And some wonder why they have four kids.” she joked.
“Exactly what someone needs to see before dinner.” I shook my head.
“What do I need to see before dinner?” Jake asked, shutting the back door behind him.
“Parental PDA.” Grace chimed in from where she was reading at the table, as per usual. Jake shuddered, pulling an odd face.
“Well, look who else decided to grace us with their presence and on time too.” Mom grinned at Jake, coming back into the kitchen with Dad on her heels “Make yourself useful and grab some plates, dinners ready to serve up.”
Jake groaned, but turned to get the plates from the overhead cabinet all the same. I slumped into my seat beside Grace, who was still immersed in her book. I did a double take when I saw the title.
She was in fact reading my Biology textbook.
“Is that mine?” I asked, my eyebrows raised.
“Maybe.” she shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still trained in on the page in front of her.
“No reading during dinner.” Mom reminded her, pointing a wooden spoon from where she stood at the stove. Grace sighed loudly, but closed the textbook with a heavy clunk.
“Will you give me that.” I reached across her and grabbed the book, hugging it possessively to my chest. Last thing I needed was Gracie running off with the only source I had to complete my homework. Somehow I didn’t think the excuse ‘my twelve year old sister stole it’ would fly with my teacher.
Grace pouted and opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it again when Mom placed a plate of spaghetti bolognese in front of her. Soon enough we were all sitting around the wooden table, steaming plates in front of us all.
“Alright everyone, bon appetite!” Mom raised her glass to us all, before we all hastily picked up our forks and dug in.
Easy chatter between the six of us soon began to flow, and for a while at least, any thoughts and worries about money, work, that English essay I still had to write, or mysterious boys with bruises disappeared from my mind.
I guess dinner with the family will do that for you.
~
Argh, it’s short and filler-ish and generally quite bad BUT it’s almost been a week since I posted the last chapter so I knew I just had to put my shakes on and suck it up. Well, we finally learned diner-boys name! Sebastian, oh you elusive little thing you.
A hundred-plus reads after only three chapters is something of a personal best for me, and while to some people it might seem small, to me at least I’m just over the moon that people are actually interested enough to read this!
Comments and votes are much appreciated, as always.
hugthetrees.