Chapter 7
Jaylin figured that he probably wouldn’t hear from Hiro again. He had helped Jaylin out—so, so much, Jaylin couldn’t even begin to thank him for it— had gotten to hear directly from Jaylin how things had gotten better, and had even bought Jaylin a present.
He had been continually generous in ways that were almost overwhelming, but Hiro had done his good deed. What else would he need to see Jaylin for?
Jaylin did his best to put it out of his mind as he walked home from the bus stop after his meeting with Hiro at the cafe.
He’d have to try and not think about Hiro now.
He’d have to try to keep from thinking about not getting to see his smile again, the way he quizzed Jaylin on what he liked to eat, his quirky sense of humor.
The soft way he spoke, and the selfless way he had made time for Jaylin when Jaylin had needed it most.
“Sometimes it’s nice to do things for other people just because. I thought you might like a scarf. I was hoping it might help keep you warm. That’s all.”
He caught himself standing just inside his apartment, stroking his fingers over and over the softness of the scarf and made a frustrated sound, unwinding it from around his neck and shrugging off his jacket. Normalcy. He needed to get back to normalcy.
Usually Jaylin had plenty to do on the weekends. It was his time to cram in as much studying as he could to get to be ready for the week ahead. He’d be able to distract himself no problem–
Except, no. Because all of Jaylin’s school work was done.
Instead of having to spend hours and hours trying to get through reading assignments and worksheets, Jaylin had been able to listen to his lessons throughout the week, do his homework in a third of the time it had previously taken him, and even finish an extra credit assignment for his business law class.
He hadn’t had to lose sleep desperately trying to read ahead in his textbooks because he had programs at his fingertips, ready to recite the words out loud for him.
All of a sudden… Jaylin had free time.
It was hard to figure out what to do with it. He’d spent so long being run ragged that time was a luxury he’d never before encountered. What did people even do when they weren’t so busy and stressed out that they wanted to be sick?
He still hadn’t figured it out by the time he was ready for dinner, but he had done his laundry, cleaned his entire apartment top to bottom, and had made it almost all of the way through the second audiobook in The Murderbot Diaries series.
He hadn’t had the luxury of reading just for fun in ages, and it was so nice.
Riding the high of what had been overall a stupidly good week, Jaylin decided to treat himself and go out to eat for dinner.
It was with great pleasure that he put on his heavy brown coat and wrapped his new scarf around his neck before he headed out.
El Guanaco was as warm and welcoming as always, but it was already full when Jaylin showed up.
Which made sense, considering it was a Saturday night.
Something Jaylin had kind of forgotten to take into account.
Camille was working as host though, and she smiled at Jaylin when she caught sight of him, motioning him forward.
“But you’re so busy,” Jaylin said as she led him to a table in the back.
“Seating for one is a lot easier to swing,” Camille said with a shrug. Then she grinned at him. “And Carlos’s serving. He’ll be happy to see you.”
Jaylin gave her a baffled look, which didn't go away when he realized– “Wait, what are you even doing here? I thought you stopped working here when you got that fancy communications job.”
Camille waved a hand. “We were short-staffed, so I was called in. Needs must, etcetera. When Abuela wants my help…” She snapped her fingers. “And we’re still short-staffed, so I gotta get back to the front. See ya!”
Carlos showed up a few minutes later, plunking a water down on the little table. He looked frazzled in a way he didn't usually, and barely even teased Jaylin at all.
“Everything okay?” Jaylin asked after he gave Carlos his order.
Carlos waved his arms wildly. “We’ve got a private birthday party, two anniversary dinners, our regular crowd, and three people who called in sick with the flu. I’m dying.”
“Do you… need help?” Jaylin asked hesitantly.
Carlos made a face and opened his mouth… then closed it again, expression turning considering. “Are you offering?”
Jaylin had no idea. Was he? “I guess?”
Carlos blinked a few times, then shook his head.
“Okay, okay, I’m probably crazy but you know what?
I don’t care. You speak Spanish, you know the menu, and you’re cute so people will forgive you if you look a little grumpy.
I can save this table and put in your order.
Even if you just helped out until it was ready… ”
“Okay,” Jaylin’s mouth said before his brain could catch up. “But are you even allowed to–”
“I’ll take the heat in twenty minutes,” Carlos hissed, pulling a second notepad and pencil out of nowhere and shoving them at Jaylin.
“Just refill drinks and ask if everyone’s enjoying themselves and if they’re ready for dessert.
I’ve got to check the bathrooms and make sure they aren’t trashed and still have toilet paper. ”
Then Jaylin was left by himself, clutching a tiny notebook, and wondering what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
He had a brief fleeting thought of just leaving, but not only did he not want to do that to Carlos, he also wanted to be able to come back to El Guanaco in the future. Which meant he couldn't just high-tail it now that he’d offered to help.
All that was left to do was set his shoulders and try his best.
He headed to the kitchen to locate a water pitcher– refill drinks Carlos had said–and when he arrived, there were several trays of freshly-made food just sitting there. Waiting to be taken out.
“Uh,” Jaylin tried amid the bustle and noise of the kitchen. “Who is this for?”
No one even looked over to ask why on earth some random guy was in the kitchen.
“Tables seven through nine!” someone barked in Spanish.
“Happy fucking twenty-fifth!” Jaylin thought he recognized the man as Miguel.
Jaylin had only seen him leave the kitchen a couple of times, but Carlos had pointed him out once, chattering on about how their abuela was planning on leaving the restaurant to him when she retires at one hundred thirty-seven but no sooner than that.
Basically, when Abuela wasn’t there, Miguel was in charge.
Okay, Jaylin thought resolutely. No one liked cold food.
He’d seen enough servers to know that–ah, okay, he located the little folding table things that big trays got set on, stacked on up one side of the kitchen. He grabbed one and hooked it over his elbow, then very carefully picked up one of the large trays of food.
Right. Okay.
He didn't know the table numbers all that well, but several of the big table groups had balloons.
Jaylin had trouble differentiating his 2s and 5s , but he did know the general shape of them.
They looked different from 5 and 0 which were what the balloons on the other big table grouping across the room said.
Mindful of the heavy tray, he picked his way towards tables seven through nine, all clustered together so that the group was as close as they could be.
When he got there, he tried to manage a smile to hide his nerves as he gingerly unfolded the table and set the tray on it.
“Uh, hi–happy anniversary. Sorry, I’m filling in for a sec, so I didn’t take your orders.
” He glanced down at the tray and thanked El Guanaco’s incredibly visual menu, because at least he mostly recognized the dishes.
Fake it til you make it. He’d figure this out through the process of elimination. “Who ordered the chimichanga?”
The dishes were miraculously distributed without issue, and Jaylin assured the table that he’d be right back with the rest of the food. As he rushed to the kitchen, someone from another table flagged him down to ask for drink refills.
“Yeah, I, uh, sorry,” Jaylin said. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”
He got to the kitchen, grabbed the second tray of food, went back to the anniversary table to distribute it, swung by the other table to get drinks orders, then headed back to the kitchen again. He didn't bother trying to write anything down, because all the drinks were easy enough to memorize.
He also didn't bother asking where the drinks were once he got to the kitchen, because he spied the soda machine on the right side and beelined to it, plucking up a tray on the way.
One sprite, one diet coke, two strawberry lemonades– then he added a pitcher of ice water and went back out.
Camille was just seating a table of four when Jaylin finished with the drinks, and she gave him a truly bewildered look as he passed her with the water pitcher.
He shrugged, unable to convey how completely he didn't understand what was going on either, but he did fill four glasses with water and brought them to the new table, taking further drink orders before noticing that the two people at the table behind the giant anniversary party didn’t look like they were eating anymore.
Just sitting and talking, with mostly-empty plates.
They were interested in dessert when he asked, so he just went with it, scribbling down his best guess at spelling their orders before heading back to the kitchen to give the order to Miguel.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when someone grabbed his arm just as he was heading to the kitchen again. Jaylin jumped and whirled around—to see Carlos staring at him in horror.
“What?” Jaylin asked uneasily. Did he get someone’s order wrong?
“What do you mean what? ” Carlos burst out. “We said twenty minutes!”
“Okay…?” Jaylin honestly didn't know how long it had been.
“I thought you ate and left!” Carlos said, jabbing a finger in Jaylin’s direction.