Hazed

by Brittany Butler

  ****

  Like clockwork Lea strolls on the patio with no time to spare. The strap of her purse slides down her arm and lands on the table with a loud thump. She huffs and places her coffee in front of her as she slides into the chair. Over the last few days we have an unspoken agreement to meet here for coffee before work. We hash out the day and get everything off our chest before we go in. It’s coffee therapy.

  “Stressful day?” I ask.

  “It’s like every professor ganged up on me and decided it was ‘be an asshole to Lea week.’ Seriously, you should see how many projects I have!”

  “What’s your work schedule like this week?”

  I cringe, taking in her packed notebook. Her notes are scattered everywhere; she’s unorganized and that only makes it worse.

  “Ugh, don’t even ask,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “If you need help let me know. My classes are pretty boring and I basically only work on weekends.” I take the straw in my mouth and welcome the sweet, cool taste.

  She smiles, sets down her phone and looks me in the eyes. “You are awesome. So, Shea told me Hayze isn’t picking up girls at the bar anymore, what’s up with that?”

  With an eyebrow raised, I eye her skeptically. “I honestly haven’t noticed. Maybe he picks them up somewhere else.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it,” she says, shaking her head. “She said you guys left together one night.”

  “We just went to eat,” I explain. I still don’t know what’s going on between the two of them so I didn’t mention it. It was innocent other than the almost kiss we had.

  Something about the way she watches me is amused with curiosity. “Maybe that’s why he’s slowing down,” she says. Her smile is smug as she brings the cup to her mouth and takes a fast sip. She slams it on the table and wipes her mouth. “Fuck, that’s hot!”

  I chuckle, “That’s what you get.”

  “You can’t blame me for being curious,” she says in defense. “I’m not the only one, ya know? I heard some girl dragging his name through the mud in my last class, another girl saw him with you, just curious,” she shrugs.

  “This place is worse than high school!” My jaw drops and I look at her in horror.

  “Not everyone. Just some groups. Stay away from the sorority girls and you will be fine.” I nod. “And most of the frat boys,” she says after taking some time to think.

  “Anyone else?” I laugh.

  She taps her phone then tosses it in her bag. “I’ll make you a burn book when I get off work,” she says with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

  “Very funny,” I say. I roll up a clean napkin and toss it at her.

  “You know Mean Girls? You mean you were actually allowed to watch that movie, preacher’s daughter?” She laughs.

  “I watched it at a friend’s,” I deadpan.

  “You rebel, you. Hey, I’ve gotta run. I have to be at work in an hour,” she says.

  “Oh, me too,” I cringe.

  With a quick change of clothes, I’m in my car and driving to work. I arrive early; the only car in the lot is Shea’s. My phone chimes with a text from my mom, but I ignore it until I figure out the best way to break the news to her. She isn’t going to be thrilled to find out I won’t make it to Sunday dinners because of my new job.

  “Hey Tay, we’re short tonight, it’s going to be crazy!” Shea calls to me.

  “Lovely,” I groan.

  “But, hey, more tips for us, right?” She smiles and disappears behind the bar.

  My phone rings; I slide it from my pocket, sigh and answer, “Hey, mom.”

  “Hey, Tater Bug how’s your first week?” I roll my eyes. At eighteen I’m still referred to as my childhood nickname. I’ve tried to explain that to her but she waves me off, saying she’ll call me that for the rest of my life.

  “It’s good. How are you? Empty nest syndrome kicking in?” I laugh. I balance the phone between my shoulder and face, attempting to fill the ice bin before we get busy.

  “Scott won’t allow it,” she says, laughing. I smile at that sound; it’s one that I miss every day. Her calm voice and soothing laugh got me through the worst times of my life.

  I laugh, “I think Scott’s more upset about me moving than anyone else.”

  “Hey, Taylor, we need ya out here. Randy opened the flood gates!” Shea calls.

  “Mom, I’m at work I gotta go,” I say.

  “One quick thing! Are you coming to Sunday dinner?”

  I cringe. “No, I work all weekend.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll let your dad know,” she says, the spark missing from her voice.

  “I’ll have dinner with you this week, promise. Love you, mom.”

  “Love you, too baby.” I end the call and shove my phone in my jean pocket. As I round the corner I see Shea was right, the bar is packed. Hayze is behind the bar; Jace and Eric are in an angry rush with him. They pump out drinks, trading money and yelling over the crowd.

  “Get that group’s drink order!” Shea yells.

  The group of co-eds patiently waits to be served. I rush to their table, smiling. “What can I get y’all?” I ask.

  “Four Miller taps,” the guy near me says.

  “Two gin and tonics,” the girl clutching his arm says.

  I scribble the drinks down and shove my way through the crowd. Hayze walks to me, leaning over the counter. “Whatcha got?” He smiles, taking the paper from me.

  He reads over my messy drink order. He walks to the tap, pours my drinks and mixes the gin and tonics. I arch an eyebrow as he walks from behind the bar. He slips two drinks to me and carries the others to the table.

  “Uhh, thanks but you don’t have to do my job,” I say, feeling uncomfortable with his help. I don’t want people talking more than they already are. I look around, searching for Shea, but she’s busy with another table. I hope she doesn’t see us and tell Lea, the last thing I want is her teasing me about Hayze.

  “You’re new and I wanna help,” he says, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

  “Do you do that with everyone?” I ask, eyeing him closely. He shakes his head. I roll my eyes and blow the fallen hair from my face. He shoves his fists in his ripped jeans. He tosses me a sheepish grin as he walks back to the bar. I look around the bar, finding new groups to wait on.

  “Got it, Tay?” Shea asks.

  I nod my head as I wipe down a table. A group of guy’s stager to the clean table. I sigh when I see Corey is among the group. He loops his arm over my shoulder, spilling his drink on me. I laugh without humor, pull his arm over my head and shove it to him.

  “What will it be guys?” I ask, forcing a smile. I won’t let this guy ruin my night.

  “Well, that depends on when you get off.” Corey says. The table hoots with laughter, the guy leans back on a stool.

  I hold my hands in front of me, stopping him. “Okay, listen dude, if the jokes stop, I’ll wait on you. If you can’t help yourself, one the guys at the bar can help you. Now, what can I get you to drink?” I raise my brows, waiting for a response. They all look at me as if I grew two heads.

  “Ouch,” the guy in the back says.

  They laugh, and give me their orders. I walk in the direction of the bar, ripping the old pages from my pad. When I bump into someone, I jolt, looking up. Hayze stands, arms crossed.

  “Are they giving you problems?” He asks. I follow his gaze to the rowdy guys. I laugh at him, but he doesn’t look amused.

  “Nah, I handled it,” I say.

  “Lea dated one of the douchebags. If they give you any problems, come find me.”

  I laugh, feeling weird that he’s offering so much help. “You don’t have to protect me. I have two older brothers that do that.”

  “Yeah, well, they are not here right now. I mean it,” he says.

  I walk by him, brushing his shoulder. I find Eric working the bar top. Shea and Jace pace the room, retrieving empty glasses. Eric strides the b
ar, handing a beer to a waiting hand before grabbing my ticket.

  He pops the tops off the beer and hands them to me. “Thanks,” I say.

  “Let me take these. Check on the table next to them,” Hayze says. He grabs the drinks from my hands and walks off before I can protest.

  “Hayze!”

  He strides to the table as he sets the drinks down. He leans in to speak with them. I seethe, balling my fist at my sides. I walk to my second table.

  “You guys okay?” I ask the table close to mine. They answer yes in unison. I turn, stomping toward Hayze, but Shea steps in front of me.

  “You look pissed, everything okay?” She asks,

  “Peachy,” I say, glancing around her at Hayze. She turns, sees him and smiles. Her eyes dance between us. I’m sure she can feel the tension growing between us.

  “I need details later,” she says and walks away.

  Last call booms over the speaker, the crowd groans in protest. They shout over one another, searching for a party. As everyone pays their tabs, the last straggler walks out. Randy locks the door behind him. I find a clean table and collapse in the booth. I lay my tips out and start to count.

  “Wahoo, three-hundred-dollar night,” Shea yells.

  “How’d you do?” Hayze asks, sitting next to me.

  “You should know! You watched me all night,” I fire back.

  “I won’t apologize,” he says.

  Shea walks up and sits on the opposite side of us. She looks to Hayze, then back to me. “You did so good, Tay!”

  “Thanks,” I murmur.

  Hayze stands, shoves the chair under the table and walks off. My shoulders slump as I let out a long, shaky breath. I prop my elbows on the table, letting my face fall into my hands. I fight sleep, knowing I have an hour of cleaning up.

  “So, what’s this?” She asks and jerks her finger to me and in the direction Hayze walked in. Her eyes light with excitement.

  “Uhh, nothing, he’s insane,” I say, waving her off.

  She laughs, pushing herself from the table. “That’s too bad. I thought for once he might be with a good girl.”

  “No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head. “We are friends. Well…We were, but he’s acting so crazy I don’t even know if I want to be his friend at this point,” I laugh.

  “That boy doesn’t do friends, not with females anyway. They’re either fucking him or getting on his nerves.” She laughs, grabbing a rag from a bucket. “I thought maybe you would break that cycle.”

  “We are just friends,” I repeat.

  She smiles, arching her eyebrow as she wipes down the bar top. Hayze walks in, glancing between our exchange, brows furrowed. In a rush to leave the conversation, I turn and pick up the broom. The faster I clean, the faster I can get out of here.