A week past and the phone call came when I was at school. Or that's what Soda said. He had been off work, luckily, due to a plumbing problem and he had informed me that I got the job.
Relief wasn't the feeling I felt. It was more like anxiety and well, whilst I had to boil up my feelings, I couldn't kept the rise in my heart rate when I opened the doors to Dingo on my shift.
I didn't get my uniform given to me by the manager, in fact it was another waitress that told me to get changed quickly in the toilets, which I did.
She was already at a table when in got back into the diner.
The uniform wasn't jeans but you had a choice between two dresses. One longer than the other, so I automatically picked that one. Darry would have killed me if I hadn't and I wasn't sure I wanted Darry to kill me, in a cruel, slow, painful way.
I stood behind the till for most of the my shift as the other waitresses said I couldn't do anything on my first day.
Money duty was the thing I was on because I was pretty sure I was the only one who could work out the right change.
Behind the till, there was a hidden shelf which contained a few things. A safe which probably had spare money in it, notepads, pens, but they were the only things 'on show'. If you dug a little deeper, which I did, you could find a gun, like the manager explained but it wasn't a pistol like I expected.
In fact, it was a Colt Single Action Army, which was a type of revolver, that had 6 rounds or bullets held neatly in place in the cylinder, ready to use.
Besides that, if you pushed aside some paperwork, you could see the sight tip of a barrel, one that belong to a pistol, the name I couldn't quite place.
"What are you doing?"
I shot up from my crouching position, whipping round quickly before hesitating, stumbling over my words, trying to make up an excuse.
"Curious." I nodded curtly, shifting my weight from one leg to another, impatient.
"Curiosity killed the cat." The waitress said, holding an emotionless face. I could tell it was a facade, but ignored it, raising my eyebrows to the ceiling. It was probably the first time I had heard that phrase being used on this side of town.
She was older than me, by four years or so. You could tell by the tone in her voice and the wrinkled around her eyes and mouth when she spoke.
"How old are you?" She grabbed my wrist, when I tried to step past her, but not tightly.
"17." My lie matched the innocent look on my face, but even though I was good at lying, I knew she didn't buy it.
She didn't let go of my wrist, and added, "I'm not gonna tell anyone, kid."
"15." I corrected, looking down at the floor, ashamed but not knowing the complete reason why.
Her eyes widened but she hid the shock in the face, like she had practice. "You're not the youngest person I've seen here, but c'mon, ya really shouldn't be here."
"You know," I paused, "I seem to hear that quite a lot these days."
She let go of my wrist and I started to walk away, until she spoke up again. "One piece of advice: don't touch the guns, you don't wanna be the person whose gonna pull the trigger."
**********************
My next shift, I spend it, head in my palms, constantly watching the hands tick by on my watch. I was bored. But not the kind of bored when you have nothing to do, I was the kind of bored that meant I was so lazy I couldn't even be bothered to argue my case.
My case, of still not being able to serve or even talk to costumers, other than the subtle 'goodbye' or 'have a nice day'.
"Talia, I can't." I moaned for the fifth time that minute at the older girl, who warned me about the guns last shift. "I can't stand here being useless the 4 hours I'm stuck smelling of burgers in this diner."
She chuckled, giving me her pad and pen, and pushed me towards some costumers that had just come through the door, making the bell ding.
"Serve them. When, or shall I say if you succeed, I'm sure the other waitresses will let you serve."
I glanced at the two brothers walking side by side, both admiring their knifes in a narcissistic manner.
"I can't do them." I said quickly, basically hiding behind the till so they didn't see me from their booth.
"Why?" She definitely knew who they were, I'm sure everyone did on this side of town. "C'mon, you master the technique of serving hormonal boys, you can do anything."
I breathed in deeply as Curly looked my way, and then looked down at the floor, awkwardly scratching my head. "Just pick me another pair and I won't complain, I swear. I just can't serve them."
"No." She said bluntly, pushing me slightly towards the table.
I held my ground, digging my heels into the tiled floor. "That one," I pointed aggressively at Curly, "Made this cut," I said lifting my left hand, showing her, "That will probably scar, and never leave my memory, and that one," I now pointed at Tim, "Made two lovey circular scars on my ankle." I looked at her pleadingly, but she just ignored me and pushed me strongly towards them so I lost my balance and fell getting caught by two strong arms around my waist.
"You know I came to this diner for a burger, not a clumsy damsel in distress." The voice belonging to the arms spoke and I recognised the rough voice completely. "If I wanted a damsel in distress, I would have picked one of the many girls who flock to me."
I stood up on my own, taking his callused hands off my waist. "I am not a damsel in distress because I didn't need your help." I said sharply, looking into his eye, watching him realising who I was. And then I smiled, unnatural and innocent like and said the star phrase."Can I take your order please?"
Tim had looked up from his menu, the one he probably knew by heart, to see the scene unfold.
"I'll have a burger and large fries," He said causally, taking no notice of me, except from the fact that Curly was staring.
"You know," The younger hood said slyly, trying to touch the hand that was holding my pen, but I moved it just in time and stepped backwards so I wasn't in reach. "You looked pretty good in a dress." He bit his lip in a seductive manner but I didn't fall for it.
I scoffed and then my face fell into a scowl. "I know, the colour really goes with the redness of the cut you sliced deep into my palm," I held up my hand and waved at him sarcastically. "Order." I said aggressively and then paused changing my tone. "Please."
"You know, ya really need to fix your manners." He smirked winking, telling me after, that he wanted the same as his brother.
Writing it down in a swift motion, I clicked the top of my pen so the nib went back in and smiled sweetly, but my eyes gave Curly a cool, dark stare.
"I think you're pretty rude, for a waitress." He pouted, is long fringe, flopping causally over his his eyes. "I would gladly teach you the way of becoming more lady--"
"Has it not occurred to you, Curly," I put the notebook into the pouch in front of my stomach and fiddle mindlessly with my pen, "That your opinion mean nothing to me."
I looked over at Tim, sharply, who was trying to cover his chuckle with a smirk, clearly amused by our discussion.
"I'll get your order, as soon as possible, Sir," I directed at the older sibling, before whipping round, my hair shaking in its bun and gaving Talia a smug smile.
Her look was fairly impressed, as she walked back to the counter, making sure she looked busy before reaching it.
"You know, the first time I served them, Tim was 15, which now seems like a long time back."
I tore the piece of paper out of the notebook and hung it up using a magnet so the chef could see it.
Putting my hands back on the cool marble of the worktop, I sighed deeply. "What? We wait now?"
A bell dinged but I didn't look up at the door. It wasn't like I was going to serve the new customers. If anyone was, it would it Talia.
"Hide me." The 20 year old exclaimed rapidly, trying to get behind me, but she was a few inches taller, so it looked pretty obvious. I tried not to laugh at her failed attempt.
"What are you doing?" I said, trying to turn round, but she had a fairly strong grip on my shoulders and that was making me turn back forwards again. "What are you doing?" I repeated, looking up to meet the customers eye, only to gain contact two greenish blue pearls that looked at me in a protective way. I smiled at Darry and then at Soda, who came out of Darry's shadow, winking at me, but then stopped and dragged the older Curtis to a booth in the corner of the diner, the opposite end to Curly.
"I'm hiding."
I turned round, again, faster so she was caught off guard and didn't stop me. Her face was a pale colour, but her cheeks were flushed pink like she was blushing.
"Why?"
"I dated him in high school." She pointed at the booth Darry and Soda were at, only to meet Sodapop's eye and he smiled.
"Which one?" But I said it like I already knew the answer. She was older then Soda by three years and I think it would have been pretty hard for them to meet if she was a senior and he was a freshman. Yeah, that would have been hard.
She pointed at Darry and I completely ignored the fact that she fact that she was still cowering behind the till.
"Darry dated in high school?" I had to keep a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. "Okay," I looked towards her, as she gave me a frightened look, "That may have been harsh."
She ignored me. We didn't seem to be listening to each others halves of the conversation. "You know him?"
"Those two are my bothers." I said bluntly, as I gave a man some change, and wished him a good evening.
"What?" She stood up, too fast, and looked at me like a deer in headlights.
"Non-biologically speaking, but I live at their house, so I'm not so sure that matters." She was still hiding and I was starting to wonder if working here was so hard. We didn't seem to be doing anything.
"I dated your non-biological brother." She had closed her eyes and looked up to the ceiling like she was praying to God.
"In high school." I reminded her but she just gave me an exasperated look. "Wait." I scrunched up my face in confusion. "In high school, that must have been like," I paused, trying to work it out, even though I wasn't too sure of her age, "two, three years ago."
"Still!" She said in a hushed shout, but I was concentrating on a stare that was burning a hole in my back.
"Is he staring at me?" I looked round discretely, to see Curly's eyes shoot to the table below him and him play with his fingers.
"Yes, but who cares." She said quickly and I was a bit taken aback with her tone of voice until I realised she was staring absentmindedly at Darry, and I laughed it off.
"You know, I've seen girls stare at Soda," I paused, "more like, breathe down his neck, but never Darry."
She didn't say anything, but her eyes were swimming with worry. An emotion at shouldn't really be present at that moment.
"Hewouldhaveforgettenme, right?" She said way too quickly for me to work out any words at all, except for 'I'm still hung up on him', which after thinking about it, I don't think she was even close to saying that.
"Okay, this has turned pathetic," I heard a ding from behind, saying that The Shepard's orders were ready, "either you go over there to take his order and pretend like nothing has ever happened, or I go over there, tell him everything and then come back here, to where your hiding and dragging you over there, 'accidentally' pushing you into his lap as I go."
I held up finger and then a second one, showing her her choices. The dings were getting impatient and I was slowly shuffling towards the meals as she debated her options.
"How about I do the Shepard brothers and you do the Curtis ones."
It took a while for me to answer, because as much as I didn't want to see Curly again, I think I wanted to see how Talia and Darry would turn out, more.
"Nope," I said bluntly, popping the 'p', "but good try."
***
Curly didn't try anything, when I served him, except for some dirty phrases that I just scowled at. I didn't care what he thought of me, good or bad, because whatever I thought of him was probably worse.
By the time, he had finally let me go, Talia was still at the till, waiting, but the other waitresses didn't seem to bothered with serving Darry and Soda and instead were contently smoking outside.
"God," I breathed in sharply as I past the doors, tasting the vial fumes of tobacco in my mouth. "You still here?"
She shot me an angry look, but her eyes were soft. "It was three years ago, something happened, he changed and suddenly he was going out with some kind of cheerleader that couldn't spell her own name."
"Three years?" Round about the time their parents died.
"Yeah, no explanation, nothing, just being ignored." She gave me a look with sad eyes.
I did want to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but that wasn't my story to tell and certainly not a good one to say at this moment of time. "Well then, go up to the booth and maybe give him the benefit of the doubt."
Her eyes turned hard and dark, as they looked at me, narrow but vulnerable.
"Or don't, and maybe ignore him this time." I shrugged. It was her decision, he had hurt her by the frightened look on her face and even though I know it had been a rough time for him, not seeking her help, may have been the worse thing. Now that sounded cheesy and cliché but it was true.
"It was just a stupid high school romance." She muttered under her breath, but I repeated it, louder.
If it was just a stupid high school romance, why did it mean so much?
I gave her her notebook and pen back and after, she stepped towards the booth. Soda had caught my eye and then her's and smiled. They seemed to know each other. Maybe it was just a stupid high school romance. Or maybe it was the important, stupid high school romance that met the family.
************************
I rested my hand on my cheek, probably causing an obnoxious red mark, to show the imprint of my palm. It looked awkward as hell on the Curtis booth, but I'm sure being there was worse. Soda looked like he was dying, physically and emotionally.
I didn't even bother smiling at the greaser couple, who were too caught up in kissing each other to even notice where the door was. They proceeded to bang in Curly's booth, causing Tim Shepard to stand up, in an intimating fashion.
"Watch where your going, shitface."
The girl in the couple dazily giggled at her boyfriend, as he started to give Tim the same hard look I saw painted on everyone's face before a fight.
"Me, shitface," I cringed as he took a step closer, just showing how small he was compared to Tim. You could tell from a mile off that he was just acting all intimidating to impress his girlfriend who, on the other hand, was stroking her boyfriend's muscle whilst winking at Curly. "Why don't you look into the mirror, pal."
Lousy, but I worked so obviously that you didn't even need to know Tim well to see that he was angry.
The ding from the bell at the door, broke the silence and in came a drunk. Swaying, like he had just come off of a roller coaster, and grinning like a seven year old on Christmas Morning. He held up his half drunk beer bottle, which he dropped almost immediately, the contents spilling onto the floor quicker than he could react, and he just grimaced. Looking around, aimlessly, his eyes stopped on the frozen frame of Tim and the other boy at each others' throats.
"Fight!"
***************
Cliff hanger. Well not really, but never mind. I haven't posted in about 3 months and I can't apologise enough for that, but here we are.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter and keep reading : )
I promise I will try and be better at updating.
Stay Gold