Chapter 5
Though the Pitt was busier than usual, even for a Saturday night, I kept one eye glued to Cherry.
I was overreacting. I knew that by now. After our three-hour nap, followed by a plate of hangover food, as Cherry called it, she seemed almost back to normal.
Still, I couldn’t help myself. I worried she wouldn’t be able to handle the fast-paced environment that came with waitressing here.
The Pitt was split between a bar and a family-friendly restaurant.
TVs were mounted in every corner, surrounded by every kind of sports memorabilia imaginable.
No one was looking at the memorabilia tonight, though.
Whatever basketball game was playing had clearly captured everyone’s attention, which meant The Pitt was packed with the most annoying type of customer there was. Men.
Men, boys, guys. That particular game had drawn them all into the wood-paneled, mismatched restaurant.
I plastered on a smile for my current table, a group of four men who looked to be in their early thirties.
I ignored the way they eyed me, like I was prey and they’d come here to hunt.
It didn’t help that Greg insisted our uniforms be two sizes too small.
The red shirts left very little to the imagination, and the black shorts weren’t much better.
“I’ll put your order in right away,” I said in my waitress voice, pitched two octaves higher than normal.
I hated the performance, but I’d worked here long enough to know that if I didn’t play along, my tips would be cut in half.
And I needed those tips. With my parents paying for yet another rehab stay for Holden, money was tight.
I kept the smile in place as I turned away from the table and threaded through the crowded restaurant.
It stayed there until I pushed through the double doors into the kitchen, where it fell from my face almost instantly.
“You know what they say,” Cherry’s voice followed me a second later. She must have caught the look on my face. “Smiling girls get paid more. You know, since we live in this misogynistic hellhole. How many times have you been hit on tonight?”
I laughed, shaking my head as she effortlessly pulled me out of my mood. “I’ve lost count.”
“Do you think they realize we’re young enough to be their daughters?
” she asked, walking past me. She snatched the ticket from my hand and passed it to the cooks without a word before turning back.
“I just had a fifty-year-old man ask for my number. And get this. When I told him my age, he said, legal is legal. Like turning eighteen magically means I’d fuck him. ”
“Tell the cooks to burn his food,” I said, grimacing as disgust crawled over my skin.
“I should,” Cherry muttered, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We only have twenty minutes left. Then we can get the hell out of here.”
“Finally,” I sighed, my feet aching from the hours I’d spent on them. I took a breath, tugging the tiny shirt over my body before turning back. “I’ll see you in twenty. Are you—”
“Sure I’m feeling fine?” Cherry cut in, mocking me. “Yes, Mother. I’m sure.”
I tilted my head, trying to decide if she was lying. “I love you. Sue me for asking.”
Cherry laughed, pulling my head down so she could peck my cheek. She rolled her eyes one last time before heading back into the chaos of the dining floor, and I followed shortly after.
I have a theory that the last minutes of any shift are the longest. Like time actually slows down, seconds stretching until minutes feel like hours.
That was exactly how it felt tonight. By the time those twenty minutes were finally up, my muscles were screaming for me to find somewhere to lie down.
With a final wave to the other waitresses, I headed into the back room.
Knowing Cherry would meet me at the cheap, flimsy lockers the owners provided for employees, I opened mine and peeled the name tag off my shirt, wishing I hadn’t worn my uniform to work.
“Blair!” Cherry’s voice hit me, equal parts excitement and panic.
“You’ll never guess who’s here.” I let out a small sigh, already knowing that whatever she was about to say meant I wasn’t getting anywhere near my bed for at least another hour.
“Lucas and Killian,” she rushed out before I could respond.
“And I didn’t go over yet because, honestly, I have no idea what happened last night, and I don’t know what to say when Lucas asks. ”
I bit my lip, remembering that Lucas had been with Cherry when the drugs started kicking in. “You were with him for a bit, Cherry.”
“See?” she breathed. “I need you to come with me. And Killian’s there too, so it’s perfect.” She smiled, opening her locker and leaning toward the mirror on the inside of the door. She ran her fingers through her hair, then pinched her cheeks to give them some color.
“But—” I started.
“What’s it going to take?” She raised her brows at me in the mirror, her expression turning serious. “I’ll do all your laundry.”
“My mom does my laundry,” I crossed my arms.
“I’ll take your Friday shift next week,” she tried, smiling like she already had me. I stayed quiet. “I’ll take your Friday shifts for the whole month.” She watched me closely. When I still didn’t respond, she straightened and turned toward me. “I’ll take your Friday shifts for the entire summer.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the sheer panic on her face. “I would’ve done it for the laundry.”
“You’re a bitch,” she said fondly, shoving my shoulder. “I hate you.”
“You shouldn’t lie so much,” I laughed as we shut our lockers and headed back toward the dining floor. “You’ll get bad karma.”
“Well, since you’re so good, you must have infinite good karma,” she shot back. “So I’ll be fine if I stick with you.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” I said as we approached the table.
They hadn’t noticed us yet, so I took a second to observe them.
They were the kind of strangers who weren’t really strangers.
I’d known them for years, at least by sight.
I knew they played basketball. I knew they were the type of boys Cherry got along with effortlessly.
Lucas was tall, his blond hair cropped short.
Killian was just as tall, with messy black hair that fell in loose waves.
“Lucas,” Cherry said, drawing both their attention. Surprise flickered across their faces before matching grins spread as they looked us over.
“Hey, Cherry,” Lucas greeted her, then nodded at me. “Blair. I didn’t know you two were working tonight.”
“We were,” Cherry answered for both of us. “Off the clock now.”
“Nice,” Killian said, speaking up for the first time. “You guys want to join us?”
“We’d love to,” Cherry said instantly, flashing me a look that was equal parts triumph and arrogance. She ran her hand along the wooden table before sliding into the booth beside Lucas. I moved to do the same, but the sudden realization that I didn’t have my phone in my hand hit me all at once.
“Oh, I’ll be right back,” I said, glancing at Cherry. Her eyes widened immediately, her expression clearly saying what the fuck.
“I forgot my phone in my car,” I shrugged, rolling my eyes. “I’ll be right back. I’m parked out front.” I turned to leave, but Killian’s voice stopped me.
“I’ll come with you,” he said quickly, already standing before I could protest. “I mean, it’s dark, and we’re not exactly in the best part of the city.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cherry’s amused smile and the knowing look she shared with Lucas.
“Sure,” I mumbled, because I wasn’t really sure what else I was supposed to say.
Killian didn’t speak as we walked toward the entrance, and neither did I. I barely knew him. Cherry’s words from before the party last night echoed in my head. Killian said he’ll only go if you go.
“My car’s right there,” I said once we stepped outside, pointing toward it as the warm summer air wrapped around us. He nodded, the confident smirk he’d worn inside gone, replaced with something quieter. Shyer.
I unlocked the door and leaned into the center console, grabbing my phone. The screen was empty when I pulled it out, which didn’t surprise me.
“Got it,” I said awkwardly as I shut the door. Killian nodded again, still silent. Alright. Guess I’m doing all the talking. Or so I thought.
“Blair, I, uh… you know…” he started as we headed back toward the restaurant. His voice trailed off. I turned to look at him and found him scratching the back of his neck, his eyes bouncing between the pavement and my face. “Sorry,” he laughed nervously. “I’m not usually this bad at this.”
“It’s fine,” I said, mostly because I had no idea what was happening.
“I was just, uh… wondering if you’d want to hang out sometime this week?” he asked. He looked so nervous that, for the first time since I’d seen him tonight, I noticed how cute he actually was.
I opened my mouth to answer, but instead, a yelp escaped me. For the second time in two weeks, I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going. I collided with someone head-on, stumbling backward, already bracing myself to hit the pavement.
Except I didn’t. Strong hands wrapped around my waist, steadying me before I could fall. And this time, they weren’t unfamiliar. I was pulled upright, barely catching a glimpse of his face before his mouth was suddenly at my ear.
“How’s this for colliding, Yellow?”
I only looked at Austin for a second. Long enough to register the familiarity of the moment before it tried to become something else.
His eyes met mine easily, like he wasn’t surprised to see me standing there, like this was a continuation instead of a coincidence.
I was aware of his hands at my waist in a detached way.
Not flustered. Not overwhelmed. Just aware.
Like noticing the placement of punctuation in a sentence you’ve already read once.