by Dela
With a quick glance at the clock, I pressed foot to metal in my teal 1994 Acura Legend. It was the last Friday of summer before college and my last shift as a waitress at Lucky Pin, a high-end, state-of-the-art bowling lounge. I had to cross into Nevada and then drive another ten minutes north through the mountains up I-50 to get there, but it was worth it. Even better, I got to work with my best friend, Bri.
I arrived at 5:57 p.m., a few minutes before my shift. I walked past the silvery foyer where the hostess stood into a large rectangular room with purple carpet. It was split into three parts: the bar to my right, the dining area in the center, and the exclusive lounge on my left. The high-glossed lanes were half a level higher in a secluded, dimmed area, each lane complete with couches arranged in rectangles and a two-tiered chandelier hanging above. It cost twice as much to bowl in Lucky Pin’s lounge than in any good old-fashioned bowling alley, but it was almost never slow. The place tipped well, and my ambitions for an expensive college kept me working hard for it.
Bri was in the back, filling up sodas. She’d taught me that my brown eyes and chicken legs were a good thing, and that there were actual hair products to tame my seemingly untamable frizz. Basically, in her words, I was “a walking beauty”—if I treated my hair right and wore tight pants to show off my skinny legs, which I did, because a little effort never hurt my tips.
I tossed my purse under the counter and pinned on my nametag. “Hey, Bri. Which tables do you want me to cover?”
Bri was wearing her brown hair in curls today, pulled to the side with a yellow bow. The coils swayed when she moved her head. “You’re never going to believe this.”
Her excitement surprised me. “What?”
“Well, it’s sort of strange since we’ve never seen them before, but . . .”
“Bri, what is it?”
“There is a family in the lane”—she turned to face the upper floor and began counting from the end, her pointed finger bobbing—“fourth from the right. Do you see them?”
I stretched my eyesight as far as the low lighting would permit and began counting from the right. After many lounge couches and suburban teenagers, I found a family of six, all with dark hair except for one younger blond man. Half of them had their backs to me as they leaned in, listening to a woman with short hair. Just as I glanced at the woman, she stopped talking. Then she aligned her eyes with mine, and her mouth parted, aghast. Our eyes locked for a full second before she looked away and spoke again. Strangely, everyone stiffened and ever so slightly straightened up—except the younger boy. He jolted up and turned slowly toward me. Once his startling blue eyes locked on mine, shock painted his face as well. The woman kept talking. Then chins started turning in my direction. I panicked and spun around. Is she talking about me?
“Who are they?” I asked Bri, the hairs on my neck rising.
“Don’t know. But they’ve been here since four o’clock asking for you.”
“Have they even finished one game yet?”
“No. In fact, they reserved the table for the entire night, and they were extremely adamant about you being their server. They look like they tip well . . .” Bri said. She looked disappointed.
“Coming from the girl whose parents will be paying her college tuition. All right.” I breathed deeply. “I’m going in.”
The strange situation tempted me to decline their request, but the promise of a good tip to add to my college fund urged me forward.
The group stared at me awkwardly as I approached. Their skin was the color of old honey; a natural glow shone around them like a guttering candle flame. It was uncomfortable the way they were still, silent—the way I grew lightheaded from the scents of coconut and ginger reaching my nose. I breathed in deeply again. It smelled amazing.
Two couples sat on the couch to my left. One young woman wore a multitude of turquoise bracelets mingled with metal and dark leather rings that decorated her forearm nearly up to her elbow. A large tattoo covered a good portion of the right side of her chest and continued underneath her shirt. As she crossed her hands over her knees, I saw a large, pear-shaped solitaire on her wedding finger. It was turquoise-colored and rimmed with white diamonds. It looked expensive. Nobody my age would be able to afford that. The blond boy next to her had his arm draped over her shoulder, his bulky muscles shadowing in what little light there was. I looked at his grungy Mohawk . . . they seemed young to be married. It didn’t surprise me to see a tattoo on his calf.
The man sitting on the girl’s other side had his fingers laced together around his knee, his fingernails painted black. He looked old enough to be my father, but had a large tattoo stemming from the inside of his wrist, a feather headdress at its center over a rush of triangles, zigzags, and dots that climbed up to his elbow. The woman beside him bore a smaller but similar geometric tattoo on her petite wrist. A jade necklace lined with thick gold ringed her neck. She leaned back against the couch and tucked one foot in front of her, then crossed her knuckles lightly over her raised knee and pulled it close to her chest. In her relaxed state, she wasn’t studying me like the others did. In fact, though she and the man next to her stared as blatantly as the younger pair next to them, their scrutiny seemed less intrusive.
Suddenly, I became aware of another stare coming from my right.
I didn’t know why, but my heart pounded when I turned. My eyes collided with the piercing blue stare of the boy I’d first seen from across the room. He looked close to my age and was a bit smaller than the blond boy, but I still had to look up to meet his eyes. As his slender face stared down at me, his bushy eyebrows rose high with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe I was standing right here in front of him. I grew weary of his stare, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him. He had neat sideburns and a head full of dark hair with waves that swept upward despite its natural unruliness. His nose was perfectly symmetrical—the kind people have surgery to get. There was a groove between it and his top lip. As I stared at its definition, how it perfected his face and set off sparks inside me, his lips parted and a dimple appeared in his cheek as he formed a clumsy smile.
I was momentarily frozen by the electricity of his gaze. I had never seen a boy this beautiful before. I breathed in and looked down, noticing a tattoo underneath his short sleeve. Mazy shapes surrounded a seven-pointed star inside a circle, and a tree coiled deep roots inside the star. The ink wrapped well above his elbow, and I had to make myself look away from his toned bicep to the floor. Blue-laced sneakers covered his sockless feet. I liked them, but I forced myself to look away when I realized I even wanted to stare at his ankles.
“Hi, I’m Zara. May I get you all started with something to drink?” I said.
A low chuckle, soft like a hum, escaped the blond boy’s mouth. I ignored it.
“Thank you. That would be more than appreciated,” said the man who appeared to be the father. Something made him seem older than the others, though his face was smooth, and he didn’t have a single gray hair that I could see. He turned his head and looked past me to the beautiful boy at my right. “Lucas?”
The man started speaking to Lucas in Spanish, but Lucas’s eyes didn’t move from mine. I couldn’t recall if he had even blinked. I felt self-conscious, like a nude model in the wrong classroom. I rubbed the side of my arm uncomfortably while I waited for someone—anyone—to order a stupid drink.
“Honey, I’ll take a Coke, no ice,” the woman next to the father figure kindly interrupted. She had a beautiful accent and piercing brown eyes. Her jet-black hair, parted down the middle, looked as though she’d poured a bottle of shine serum on it. I scribbled her order on my notepad for a distraction from her immaculate beauty.
“And I will have a Bloody Mary,” shot the mermaid-looking girl next to her.
“Gabriella, por favor,” the woman said to the younger one. She must have been the girl’s mother with that reprimanding tone.
&nb
sp; “Sorry, I can’t serve to minors,” I replied apologetically.
An amused burst of laughter came from the blond boy sitting next to her. She shot him an incredulous look and then turned to me slyly. “I am not a minor,” she said.
I had no idea if she was telling the truth, but I felt threatened for some reason. Note to self: mermaid girl is at least twenty-one.
“No, I mean I can’t serve to minors. I’m not twenty-one yet,” I said.
With her eyes narrowed, she pressed her lips together and pouted. “All right, give me a Coke, no ice.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yes, I will take a Coke as well, with ice.” Lucas smiled. His blue eyes sent gratifying pulses down my body. I looked away.
“What do you got, blondie?” the blond boy said.
“Por favor, amor.” Gabriella rolled her rs dramatically as she rolled her eyes. She seemed more on edge than the rest. I wondered who’d poisoned her water.
“I have all Coke products, lemonade, iced tea, or coffee,” I offered.
He let out a prolonged sigh and smiled. “I’ll take an iced tea; I’m feeling quite refreshed tonight.” He chuckled, looking oddly animated compared to the rest, who all seemed depressed.
“You’re such a show-off, Dylan. I’ll have a coffee with extra cream,” said a voice behind me.
It was the short-haired woman who’d seemed to be talking about me earlier. She sat alone on her couch, smiling warmly at me as if we were old friends. It gave me a funny feeling, as did the tattoo over her neck. This tattoo thing was beginning to seem bizarre.
I looked down at my notes, wishing to get away. “So I have two Cokes with no ice, one with ice, one iced tea, and one coffee with extra cream. Anything for you, sir?”
I looked back up into the father’s eyes. Though not as striking as the mother’s, they were the same shade of blue as his son’s, and he was nearly as good looking. He gave me a puzzled look, scratching casually at the black scruff on his chin. Finally, the leg folded over his lap dropped to the floor and he scooted to the edge of the couch. “Nothing for me, but I have a couple questions for you.”
“Yes?” I said.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“So you are in high school?”
“No, sir. I’ll be starting college in a couple of weeks.”
He fell silent, and his head nodded as he seemed to ponder what I last said. “Which school will you be attending?”
“Sierra Nevada College,” I answered, suddenly wondering why I was telling the truth.
“Do you plan to live at home while attending?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
As I tried to pretend these questions didn’t bother me, his expression became disapproving. That bothered me too. He looked tired all of a sudden and shifted in his chair. “You know what? I’m feeling quite parched. Would you be so kind as to add another Coke to the order?”
“Ice?”
He laughed lightly. “Claro que no. No, darling.”
I walked away, stiff as a board, trying to make sense of them. Bri was waiting in the kitchen by the coffee burners.
“What happened?” she asked eagerly. “You were there for a long time.”
“Well, all I got out of them were drinks. They all seem upset about something. It’s weird.” She looked confused. I walked to the soda fountain and begun filling up the cups.
“Wait, ice! You forgot the ice,” Bri sputtered.
“No, I didn’t. They specifically requested no ice.”
She squinted at the cups. “Gross.”
I poured a cup of coffee while the warm sodas filled. “Were you watching me the whole time?”
“Maybe. Hey, don’t forget, I need to catch a ride home with you tonight. Tommy dropped me off.”
“Right, no problem.” I peeked around the corner again at the family. They seemed to be in conference. “Did this family say anything about how they knew me?”
“No. They walked in here all godlike, looked around, then asked where you were. I told them you wouldn’t be in until six. They said that was fine, reserved the table for the rest of the night, and requested that only you serve them.” She sounded bored now. “What did you think about the dark-haired boy? Hot, right?”
I stole another glance at the family. Lucas was sitting now, facing me.
“Are you sure you don’t know them?” she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder and leaning forward as she stared with me.
I squinted harder in their direction. “Bri, I think I would recognize them if I knew them.”
All eyes were on Lucas. As he spoke, he jerked his hands with frustration. Then he swiped a hand through his hair and shook his head, looking exhausted. Suddenly, he snapped his head up again, and our eyes met. Bri and I flew back behind the wall, stumbling into the stacked glasses.
“Why is he so hot?” Bri said, eyes wide with bewilderment.
“I better bring them their drinks. Wish me luck,” I said nervously, placing all the cups on the tray.
I crossed the small dining room, headed up the stairs, and went directly to their table. It still smelled like a tropical oasis. I inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with the sweet scent as I set each drink down before its owner. They didn’t notice, or didn’t acknowledge them as they watched me silently, observing my every move with steady eyes as if I was the most interesting thing they’d seen in a long time.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked in a rush as I set the last drink down.
“That will be it for now, thank you,” Lucas said.
He was leaning closer to me. I got nervous briefly, thinking that maybe we had met before. I couldn’t imagine I’d forget a face like his. “Do I know you?”
“No.” He shook his head modestly.
I looked to everyone. They all had smirks on their faces.
“The other waitress said you asked for me to be your server. I just assumed we knew each other,” I said.
“We don’t. We heard you were a great waitress,” the mother said with a nod.
She seemed sincere, but I had to force a smile past the bad feeling worming into my stomach. “Oh. Well, again, my name is Zara. I will be back later to check on you.”
I felt their eyes on my back as I walked away. I stayed on the upper level, serving tables for people who did decide to bowl, but I couldn’t help peeking at them throughout the night. The exotic strangers laughed and talked, argued most of the time, but never bowled, all while pretending they weren’t watching me. Eventually their inconspicuous glances stopped—except for those from the boy, Lucas. His blue eyes found mine wherever I was. I began to stare back, frustrated, hoping he would get the hint he was staring too much, but it didn’t matter. My stare couldn’t break his focus.
He was the last to leave at closing. When I went to their area to clean up, there was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill in the center of the table. My heart stopped. I snatched up the bill and ran out the door to thank them, but only my car and another employee’s car were there. I tucked the bill carefully into my pocket and went back inside to clean up.
Bri and I finished putting the bowling balls away, tidied up the dining area, and were free to leave in thirty minutes. It was almost one in the morning when we hopped into my car.
“Since when are you and Tommy together?” I asked as Bri slid into the passenger seat.
“Since two weeks ago. Anyways, what’s happening with Jett?”
“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Night in the dark mountains was still and cool. I had just pulled onto I-50 when a deep beat began pulsing somewhere inside me. It wasn’t my heart, but something entirely different, like a deep thumping of bass inside my chest. It hurt.
“Do you hear that?” I interrupted Bri midsentence. I could hear
myself panting over my rising heartbeat.
“Hear what?”
It swelled inside my chest and pounded again. It felt like a heart attack. When I reached for my chest, my hand slipped off the wheel and the car swerved.
“Zara! What are you doing?” Bri yelled, grabbing the wheel. I slammed on the brakes, and we swerved into the ditch. She looked at me, confused, as I pressed my head tightly against the headrest, my body frozen by pain.
“Are you okay?” Bri asked.
There was pressure under the bridge of my nose, and my chest heaved up and down—then the pain vanished. “I think so.”
I stared at the portion of road illuminated by my headlights and took long, slow breaths. Finally I grabbed the wheel shakily and pulled back onto the highway.
Bri watched me, unsure. “You’re scaring me.”
“No, really. I’m fine,” I assured her, tightening my hands on the wheel.
When I looked back at her, blackness began surrounding me, rushing my body into a state of cold oblivion.
I woke on my back on rocky ground, grass poking up between loose stones. My skin burned as the rush of blood returned to my limbs. The air around me was moist, making my skin stick to whatever pressed against it.
It was midday. The sky was orange, and black figures flew in a line overhead like puffs of smoke. Suddenly the sound of a baritone horn filled the air, and the figures turned and headed toward it. I tried sitting up to see where they were going, but my body began shaking hard.
I woke again to a dark street in front of me. “Zara!” Bri cried. She was nearly on top of me as she held the wheel. My vision was hazy, my head pounding as I tried to regain my bearings. “You blacked out! Pull over, now!”
