by Scarlet West
I rolled my shoulders, feeling weary. I had hardly slept – it was no wonder I was bone-tired.
I made myself stand and go to the kitchen. I caught sight of my face in the small mirror stuck to the wall by the window. My hair was a mess, my eyes teary and wild. I wanted to rip the mirror off the wall, to smash it into a thousand pieces. I made my arm stay by my side.
I walked into the kitchen and made myself a coffee.
While I waited for the water to boil, I thought through my day. The day I had planned, and how it actually started.
I had planned to go to the support center. I had planned to get help. Planned to start looking for work. And now none of it could happen, because I’d freaked out and I’d come back here and I didn’t know what to do next.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered.
I made myself a double espresso, thinking, with a sad smile on my face, how ironic life was. If that order had been right in the coffee shop, would my day have gone differently? Would I be sitting in some waiting room in the support center now, waiting for my turn in therapy? Would I be discussing my career?
I sniffed the smell of coffee. I wanted to cry.
“Damn hot waitress she was, too,” I said aloud. It was so typical. I hadn’t even thought about that kind of thing for ages. Now, the first time I decide to try getting my life together, and the first time I see a girl who breaks through my isolation, I have to freak out on her like an asshole?
“Come on, Reid,” I chuckled grimly. “It’s not the first time you tried straightening out your life. More like the fiftieth.”
I leaned back in my chair, draining the coffee. That felt good. I stood up to make myself another one. I had started drinking way too much coffee and I knew why. Not just the sleeplessness, but the fact that I’d stopped drinking whiskey.
I’d vowed never to touch it again. At the very least, I wouldn’t be buying any to take home. At least that chapter of my life was more manageable than it had been.
As I finished another coffee, I realized that I had let the messed up order got under my skin because it was simply the last, small thing in a chain of events that were altogether too much to deal with. I hadn’t slept for days – or not well at least. I hadn’t been eating regularly. I had argued with my cable company, and my car was having issues. I was starting to stress out about my lack of work, and I was worried about my mom. I was overloaded.
And when I was overloaded, stuff like missing my morning coffee could really have a big impact.
“Call Brendan,” I told myself.
Brendan was my best friend – one of the reasons I had chosen, finally, to move back to my hometown. If he hadn’t lived here, I wouldn’t have done it. But he was the one person in the world who understood who I was and what had happened to me. I held my breath, hoping he was going answer. After five agonizing seconds, I heard his voice.
“Hey! Reid. What’s happening?”
“Nothing, Brendan,” I said. “And that’s the problem. I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess Reid,” he said gently.
I told him what had happened. I left out most of the stuff about the nightmares – I didn’t think he’d understand how bad it was and I didn’t want to scare him. He’d probably just think I was crazy, anyway. I told him about the fact that I hadn’t slept, how on-edge I was feeling, and about my incident at the coffee shop.
“You know? They’ve seen worse in there.” He sounded completely unworried.
“You think so?” I frowned.
“Sure,” he said gently. “You think they don’t have angry customers in there sometimes? Of course they do. I know it’s not how you’d have wanted to react. At least you weren’t flipping tables or throwing dishes.”
“Maybe,” I acknowledged. I couldn’t really say how bad this all made me feel – my unpredictable temper, my way of pushing people away. It was making me hate myself even worse than I did already; playing into my feelings that there was something fundamentally wrong about me.
“It’s okay. You had a bad morning, don’t let it cloud your whole day okay?”
“Thanks,” I said softly.
“And if you want to go back into town, you go do that,” he added. “I might head down there myself, sometime. Maybe we could meet up.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Great. See you later.”
I felt better. He was right. Why should I let such a dumb mistake ruin my day? I didn’t mean the waitress’s mistake, either. I meant my own. I had a right to get on with my day despite my difficult start.
I washed my face in the bathroom and combed my hair back carefully. When I’d finished, I had to admit that the guy looking back at me in the mirror was quite something to see. I raised a brow at myself, noticing the sharp contrast between my pale blue eyes and auburn hair, watching what the cheeky grin did to my face.
“You know, Reid, you’re alright.”
It had taken a long while to be able to say that, too. I shrugged my coat on and headed out again.
On the way down the road to the bus stop, I had to pass the café again. I paused and slowed down. Maybe I should go in again? Something in me froze, indecisive. I wanted to do it, but I also didn’t. I regretted the way I’d spoken to the waitress – after all she was the first girl who’d actually piqued my interest in a long while. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go in there again just yet.
I was still hesitating in the doorway when someone pushed in from behind me. I found myself following them in.
“Hello!” a girl with glossy brown hair and a big smile greeted me. “A table for two?”
I swallowed hard. “One,” I corrected, feeling awkward. What business of hers was it, if it was just me? I tried to ignore the feeling of anger that rose in me. I pushed it down and followed her to the back where I sat down at a small table. From there, I could see out of the window.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asked. I felt a twinge of disappointment that it wasn’t the waitress I’d had that morning. It was eleven-thirty; maybe they’d changed shifts or something.
“Um, yeah,” I frowned. “Lemonade, please. And can I see the lunch menu?”
When the waitress had gone to fetch what I’d asked for, I closed my eyes, recalling the girl from that morning. With firm breasts, a nice butt, and a curvaceous figure, she was exactly the sort of girl I ventured towards. I imagined vividly what she would look like under that uniform – those big, fabulous breasts bared, the nipples firm and tense.
“Lemonade? That’s right, yeah?”
I raised a brow at her, checking to see if she was teasing me. But her face was straight, eyes untroubled. I shrugged.
“Yeah,” I replied as she also handed me the lunch menu.
“Thanks,” I said.
She walked away, and I tried to ignore the stares I could feel on my back. I wondered if any of the customers had seen me storm out just under two hours ago. I doubted it. And I shouldn’t care. I forced myself to let it go.
As I flipped through the pages with tempting photos of sandwiches and pancakes, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out and checked who was calling. It was Brendan.
“Hi!” I answered.
“Hey,” he replied. “Are you out?”
“Yeah. What’s up?” I asked. It was unusual for him to call. He usually let me call him first, knowing social stuff was still uncomfortable for me.
“Not a lot,” he said, sounding happy. “I just happened to come into town too – had to settle some insurance stuff. I thought if you’re still around, we could meet up?”
“Okay,” I nodded. The café seemed about as central as you could get. “I’m in Melissa’s coffee shop. It’s near the Newbridge building. If you want, we can do lunch together.”
“Okay,” my friend agreed readily. “Sounds good.”
I hung up and leaned back in the chair, feeling better, more centered. As I glanced to the back of the restaurant, I caught a glim
mer of movement. It was her. The hot waitress from the morning.
She was looking at me. Her face had a strange expression on it and watchful eyes studied me. I noticed they were a vivid shade of green. Her lips were quirked in something that might have been a smile.
I felt my lip lift in a grin, but she’d already turned away, heading back through the doors of the kitchen.
I was surprised by my reaction. I felt my heart lift a little. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.
3
Hayley
I couldn’t believe it. He was over on the other side of the restaurant, the side facing the windows. He had changed his jacket and brushed his hair over to one side. But it was him. He’d come back.
I was staring at him when he looked up and caught me at it. He smiled.
My toes tingled and my heart thumped. I knew that if I stood there watching him a moment longer, I was going to smile back.
I’m not giving him that satisfaction.
I turned around and went back to the kitchen, feeling a mix of irritated and happy.
And confused.
“Ryanne?” I said, going to join my friend at the counter at the back. She was busy making fruit salad. I grabbed a knife and a peach and started to work alongside her.
“Yeah?” she frowned. “What’s up?”
“That guy. You know, the one who was rude to me this morning,” I said. “You sounded like you knew his back story?”
“Um yeah,” Ryanne nodded, swallowing. “That’s Reid Collingwood. You ask anyone in Westland, they’ll all know him. I’m surprised you didn’t.”
“Well, you know I’m not from here,” I said defensively.
“True,” Ryanne nodded, looking at her work as she finished cutting grapes and started on a grapefruit. “Well, it’s kind of a tragic story. I guess.”
“Really?” I frowned, reaching for another peach.
“Well, he was a big baseball star here in high school. You might have noticed the build?” She raised a brow, teasingly. “In any case, he was also a smart kid. Kinda like Joshua, I guess. He was all set to go to college and then his dad died. The family was left without much cash and he felt like he needed to provide for his mom. So he decided against college and joined the Army so he could help support her. Now he’s back, I guess.”
“I see,” I nodded. I glanced over the doors, where I could just catch a glimmer of the top of his head. He was hunched over the table, looking at either the menu or his phone, I guessed. I felt my heart soften a little.
It was a tough thing to imagine – a talented kid, all set for a great future, and then having it changed so radically. I wondered if he was back for good or if he was just on leave. I don’t know why it mattered, but suddenly it did. He was alone at the table, but I noticed that every now and again, people would stop to chat with him. He clearly was a local celebrity.
“Hey! Reid!” an older man said, coming over and holding out his hand to shake with the stranger. “How’s it? Great to see you again.”
“I’m fine, Mr. Porter,” he said gravely. He shook the guy’s hand, but it was lukewarm.
He’s a weird guy, I thought, revising my opinion yet again. From jerk, to local hero, he was hovering on the edge of jerk again, when another group came up to greet him. These were people more of his own age. I guessed he must be around thirty, a few years older than me.
“Hey! Reid, man! High five!” a guy said, raising his hand. Reid didn’t really even look at him.
“Hi,” he said thinly. The guy with the high-five let his hand drop to his side, clearly embarrassed.
What an asshole.
I watched him interacting with the group covertly. He was reserved, quiet; drawing people out and then shutting them away.
I couldn’t stop watching him, though. It was weird.
I felt drawn to him, even though I also disliked him.
I was taking an order from another table, when a guy walked across to his table. A tall guy, with broad shoulders and a pleasant, rugged face. He had a friendly normalcy about him that would have reassured anyone.
I saw Mr. Asshole’s face transform. From the stiff reserve, he broke into a genuine smile. The smile was dazzling.
Not that unlike the one he bestowed on me earlier in the morning.
I flushed, recalling that smile, and the way it had made me feel inside. “Hey, Reid,” the guy said, as Reid stood up.
“Hey,” Reid agreed, and shook his hand. He squeezed his shoulder, grinning and laughing.
When I went back to the kitchen, the two were sitting together, chatting like old friends.
“Crazy,” I said to myself.
What was it that the new arrival had, that none of the rest of them did? I felt a little resentful. What made Reid so amenable to him, when there seemed absolutely nothing extraordinary about the guy?
“Hayley? Could you take these orange juices through to Table Twelve, please? I need to take this call,” Ryanne said, passing me a tray.
“Sure,” I agreed. I was quite pleased, really – I wanted an opportunity to go out and see just what was going on out there.
I walked into the main room and headed straight to Table Twelve, pretending like I couldn’t see Mr. Dreamy sitting at Table Eight. I made sure I passed close by, though, without actually paying him any attention.
“Good afternoon. Two orange juices?” I beamed at the customers, saving them my best smile. One of them grinned back. I wasn’t usually particularly over-friendly to guys – my experience with Joel made me a bit standoffish – but this time I was laying it on with a big spoon, just to spite Mr. Unfriendly.
I glanced at his table on the way back to the kitchen. He was looking straight at me. Feeling a bit silly, I blushed and headed to the back of the room, cheeks heated.
“Did they order something?” Ryanne asked, dashing past me on the way to the cupboard.
I nodded. “Yeah. A club sandwich and a veggie wrap.” I was still drifting in the wake of that blue stare. What was with me?
I marched out into the main room again, to go and check on Table One.
“Excuse me?” the other man at Table Eight waved me over. I went to the table and pulled out my order pad.
I felt myself start to rock on my heels, a habit. My tummy was tingling and my cheeks were heating up. I was painfully aware of him sitting just on my right side, looking up at me. Was he smiling at me? I made myself look down at my notepad, pointedly ignoring him.
“Could we get two waters?” the guy asked. “One with bubbles, one still? Reid?”
“Yeah?”
I felt his deep voice tingle through my veins. I tried to ignore it, but even one word had an intense effect on me. I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep a calm face.
“You decided what to order yet? I’ll have the veggie wrap,” he added, giving me a friendly smile.
“Sure, and you?” I asked with a sidelong glance. I was not going to do him the favor of looking him in the eye. I could feel my whole body responding to his voice.
“Does the burger come with salad? Or just fries?”
“We can do salad,” I said. “If you like.”
“Great,” he said.
I wrote down the order and turned away stiffly. As I went back to the kitchen I was conscious of his eyes following me. For the first time that morning, I really smiled.
4
Reid
“Hey!” Brendan’s voice cut though the fog in my head. I was watching the kitchen door close after the waitress.
“Yeah?” I blinked, looking at him in surprise. What had he been saying? Had I managed to miss all of it? I had been watching the sexy figure of our waitress; those round buttocks rising and falling with her walk. I wondered if she remembered me.
Come on – of course she does. You behaved like a complete ass. Sure she remembers.
I shook my head to clear it, and focused on Brendan’s worried brown-eyed look.
“What?” I asked.
&
nbsp; “I was asking if you’d heard from Zippy and the rest of the gang?” he said.
“Um, no,” I said. “I haven’t. I haven’t been in town that long.”
“You’ve been here for two weeks,” Brendan said, sounding just a tiny bit impatient. “You can’t mean you’ve been avoiding people that long?”
“I have my reasons, Brendan,” I said tightly. I felt hurt. Of all people I knew, he was the one – the only one – who had seen me in one of my worse moments. He should understand why I didn’t want to see anybody who wouldn’t understand me.
He just shrugged.
“Well, I heard from Zippy, and he wants to meet up sometime. Maybe you could come out?”
“You told them I was here?” I pushed back my chair. The panic was starting to rise again, and I gripped the edge of the table with my hands to steady myself.
“Of course not,” Brendan said. He sounded perfectly calm. “I wouldn’t do that. I said I’d go hang out with them awhile. You are welcome to join us – that’s all that I meant by that.”
“Oh.”
I thought about it. I actually did think that seeing some people would do me good. It sure beat sitting at home and thinking back over my time overseas; or working out until I dropped from exhaustion. And, by inviting me to go along with him, Brendan was ensuring I’d get the nicest possible reintroduction into my old group as I could have. I nodded slowly.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Great.” He gave me a grin. “That’s good. We were thinking about the Cocoa Grove. If you want to come.”
“That place?” I grinned, in spite of myself. It was one of the oldest and best-liked pubs in the town. Contrary to its name – which conjured up a sleazy spot – it was actually modern and fun, with a chic but comfortable feel. I liked it.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Why not?”
I found myself nodding. Why not?
“You must be missing that kind of thing,” Brendan continued, cracking his knuckles. “I mean, do you even see any girls out there?”