Paper Airplanes

by Monica Alexander

  Crap. Of course he’d heard about the shooting.

  I smiled good-naturedly, because it was a surefire way to move past this awkward conversation topic I so didn’t want to entertain and said, “I’m good. Thanks for asking. How’s life at LSU? Still playing baseball?”

  Nothing like a solid subject change.

  He grinned. “Yeah, we had good season this year. It was pretty great.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “It’s cool that you’re going to work here,” he said then. “You’ll make fat tips and the crew is pretty awesome.”

  I returned his smile. “Sounds great.”

  I wanted to groan at how forced our conversation felt, but I just wasn’t as good at talking to people as I used to be. That fact equally unnerved me and pissed me off. I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be me – the me I used to be. I knew I was going to have to work on my interpersonal skills if I wanted to avoid people at the restaurant thinking I was an awkward spaz.

  “Well, I gotta go clock-in,” Hale said then, rescuing us both from the uncomfortable silence that had descended on us. “Gotta get set up before we open. Good luck with the job. I’ll put in a good word with Rick for you.”

  “Thanks, Hale. I appreciate it.”

  He shrugged. “No prob.”

  I’d just settled back down when the door opened again and two guys walked in having a heated discussion about something.

  “No, dude, you’re so wrong,” the guy who was tall and thin with blond hair was saying. He looked vaguely familiar. “If you put in the code, it’ll get you additional lives, but if you add the star at the end, you get the invisibility shield.”

  The dark haired guy he was with rolled his bright blue eyes. “That’s not true. I tried it last night,” he said softly but firmly.

  I noticed he had ridiculously long lashes for a guy, and his cheeks were flushed from either the heat outside or the argument he was engaged in.

  “After work I’ll show you,” the blond guy insisted, his hands waving widely as he gestured. “I’ll–”

  He stopped talking and his eyes went wide when he saw me sitting there. He looked like he recognized me. Did he know me? I wasn’t sure if I knew him.

  The other guy turned his beautiful eyes on me, and it seemed like they darkened when what looked like recognition flashed across his face, but I was positive I’d never met him before.

  “Hi,” I said when neither of them said anything. No time like the present to start working on those social skills.

  They just kept staring. I hoped they didn’t recognize me from the pictures that had come out after the shooting. The same photos of me had been shown countless times as the names of the dead and the injured were reported. The last thing I wanted was to answer questions about what had happened.

  A few reporters had tried to get me to do interviews after I’d gotten home from the hospital, since they loved the story of how I’d been shot and then in a coma and had ended up coming out of it relatively unscathed, but the last thing I wanted to do was sensationalize what had happened to me. I found something profoundly wrong with that, so I’d declined their requests as politely as I could. I definitely didn’t want to offer up any details about the shooting to two guys I didn’t even know.

  In front of me the blond guy’s eyes suddenly got wide and excited. “Hi!” he responded cheerfully. Then he turned to his friend and mumbled. “Dude, she said hi to me.”

  He was acting like I was some kind of celebrity. I really, really hoped he wasn’t some weird kid that thought it was cool to meet me because I’d been shot. That was just sick. But instead of interjecting and being a bitch unnecessarily, I kept the smile plastered on my face and waited to see what his endgame was.

  The dark haired guy rolled his eyes at his friend. “She can hear you,” he said, taking in my expression. He probably figured I was amused by the situation. I was really just guarded.

  “I don’t care,” the blond guy said excitedly, grinning widely. Then he plopped himself down next to me. “Hi Cassie. How are you?”

  I leaned back a little bit. He was really close to me. “Um, you know me?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his grin never fading. “We graduated together. I’m Scott Larson.”

  I wracked my brain for any recognition of that name, but I didn’t know him. Of course I’d graduated with close to six hundred other kids, so it was plausible that I wouldn’t know him.

  “Yeah, and we had history together in tenth grade,” he continued, “and then in eleventh grade, your locker was five down from mine.”

  “Oh,” I said, not sure what to make of all that. He sure knew a lot about me.

  “And he’s your neighbor,” the other guy said just testily enough to make me think he didn’t like me for some reason.

  My eyes darted up and caught his look of annoyance. His arms were crossed in front of his chest in a somewhat defensive pose. I shot him a look of confusion, but he just continued stare at me, his mouth twisted into a distasteful sneer. Asshole.

  “You’re my neighbor?” I asked, turning back to Scott who nodded enthusiastically.

  I felt kind of bad that I didn’t recognize him. He seemed nice. Unlike his friend.

  “Yeah, I live three houses down from you,” he said. “We moved into the neighborhood at the beginning of high school.”

  Scott didn’t seem the least bit fazed that I didn’t know him, but his friend rolled his eyes at my no doubt puzzled look. I thought about if I’d ever seen Scott before, and I wasn’t sure I had. Granted, we’d had moved to the house we lived in now the summer before my senior year of high school, and I’d been really busy that year. I hadn’t spent a lot of time out in my neighborhood. And I hadn’t come home the summer before, having stayed at school to take classes. But surely I would have recognized someone who I was neighbors with. I wasn’t blind.

  Then it hit me. “Did you used to have long hair?” I asked him. His cheeks flushed, so I knew I was on the right track. “And did you used to ride a skateboard?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I was sort of a punk back in high school. I grew out of that though.”

  I smiled. “I remember you,” I told him with as friendly of a tone as I could muster when truthfully he was the kid that my high school boyfriend Dylan used to tell me to stay away from because he was so weird. He said Scott looked like someone who could go crazy and shoot up a school, and I’d sort of felt the same way.

  Now as that errant memory of Dylan saying that slammed into my brain, I fought not to physically recoil. I couldn’t believe we’d been so flippant about something like that. But back then we thought we were untouchable. And what was weird is that after having seen pictures of the gunman from Coleman, who looked like any other college student with red hair and freckles, I had no business stereotyping. The truth was, you couldn’t trust anyone.

  “I’m hard to forget,” Scott said cheerfully, shrugging slightly. Thankfully he had no idea what I was thinking. “Are you interviewing for a job here?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m waiting for Rick.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Keep waiting. That guy has no concept of time, right?” he said, turning to his friend who just shrugged.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the dark haired guy as I zeroed in on his beautiful blue eyes.

  They looked more familiar now that he was looking right at me. He narrowed his eyes at me and mumbled something unintelligible that I knew wasn’t polite, nor was it a response to my question.

  “What was that?” I clarified, turning off the charm and raising my eyebrows. If he wanted to be a jerk, I could give it right back to him.

  “It’s Jared,” he said coolly, and I knew that hadn’t been what he’d mumbled before. He seemed wary of me, and I wondered why.

  “Nice to meet you, Jared,” I told him, aiming for polite snark. Two could play that game.

  “We’ve met,” he told me.

  “Oh, well then, it’s nice to se
e you again.”

  I had no idea where I’d met this guy before. If he was Scott’s friend, we’d probably gone to school together.

  “You probably know Jared from the movie theater,” Scott chimed in. “He worked there all during high school.”

  I wracked my brain trying to remember his face, because I knew if I’d seen those blue eyes and that dark hair and those full lips three years ago, I’d have been interested.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, truly apologetic. “I don’t remember you.”

  I remembered seeing Scott from time to time with a guy who was short and scrawny with long stringy dark hair, but it wasn’t this guy. This guy was tall and built and kind of hot.

  “Figures,” Jared answered sarcastically. Then he turned to Scott. “Come on, man, we need to clock in.”

  Scott grinned at me. “Yeah, we do. The grill is my domain, and I rule it!” he said as he stood, made his skinny arms into muscles like a much smaller version of The Hulk and growled.

  I laughed. He was really funny, in a dorky sort of way, but funny nonetheless.

  “Come on, you idiot,” Jared said, grabbing him by the shirt sleeve and pulling him away, quirking a smile for the first time since I’d laid eyes on him.

  “I hope you get the job, Cassie,” Scott called back over his shoulder.

  “Thanks!” I called back to him.

  As they disappeared into the kitchen, I leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief. Scott had sat right next to me, I’d engaged him in a conversation, and I hadn’t had a panic attack. I considered it a personal victory. And I’d even managed to banter a little bit with Jared – who was a total jerk, by the way – but for some reason for the first time in months, I hadn’t felt weird talking to people who weren’t my family or Marley or Reese.

  Maybe getting back to who I was before wasn’t going to be as hard as I’d thought. Maybe I just needed to put myself out there. And I planned to do just that. So as the other employees filtered in, I smiled at them, starting to feel more comfortable. I was grateful none of them stopped to chat, but at least I was making a friendly effort.

  Five minutes before the restaurant was supposed to open, Rick finally came back out.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Things are crazy today.”

  He raked his hand back through his dark hair.

  “That’s okay,” I said, feigning understanding because I really wanted the job.

  “Listen, we’re about to open, and I don’t have time to interview you. The lunch rush is always a nightmare, and since Justin had to go to the ER, I’m going to have to pitch in. Do you want the job?”

  I was a little taken aback by his direct question, because he sounded exasperated. “Yes, I do,” I said quickly.

  “It’s yours,” he said, and I felt my eyes light up.

  “Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “You look capable, and you’re cute. No offense, but our customers like cute. And Hale said I’d be crazy not to hire you. I trust his judgment. You’ll fit in fine.”

  “That’s so great. Thank you. When can I start?”

  He scrubbed his face with his hand as if thinking. “Um, tomorrow. Be here at ten. You can train with Jared.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that Jared probably wouldn’t be thrilled with that arrangement, but then I worried that if I told Rick that, he wouldn’t give me the job. Jared would just have to suck it up and learn to play nice. I wasn’t about to tiptoe around him.

  “I’ll be here,” I told Rick confidently before he hurried off to put out another fire.

  I wondered if he was always that stressed out.

  Chapter Four

  Jared

  “Dude! This is freaking phenomenal,” Scott yelled practically in my ear as we walked into the kitchen.

  Of course he would think this was phenomenal. He’d been talking my ear off about Cassie Witter for six years. It was an unhealthy obsession he had, and I was sick of hearing about her. The girl was self-centered, pretentious, and as it had been made apparent so readily just five minutes earlier, she had no clue about what happened right in front of her.

  I’d had three classes with that girl senior year, and yet she acted like that was the first time we’d met. Bullshit. She’d just never fucking looked beyond her make-up mirror to see anyone who wasn’t in her inner circle. Not that I’d wanted to be friends with her back then, but come on. Pay just a little attention to your surroundings every now and then.

  “Shut up, Scott,” I snapped, so not in the mood for his hyper puppy dog personality.

  He was never upset. Never. In the ten years we’d been best friends, I probably saw him get angry three times, and once had been when his Playstation 3 had broken. It was like he was immune to bad moods, which was probably a good thing for me, because I definitely brooded more than I should have – especially as of late.

  “Jared, she’s so hot!”

  I gave him an annoyed look and moved my hand like a mouth talking, so Scott elbowed me in the ribs. I elbowed him back harder, and he flinched, folding over at the waist as he groaned.

  “Okay, stop clowning around back here, you guys,” Rick said as he came out of his office with the sleeves on his button-down shirt rolled up and his Cubs hat parked firmly on his head. It looked like he was working in the back today. There must have been a call out.

  “Hey Jared, how’s it going?” Hale asked, coming through the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

  “Hey man,” I responded.

  Hale was a cool guy. I hadn’t really known him in high school, but we’d worked together for the past two summers. He gotten back from LSU the week before and had picked right up where he’d left off, working as many hours as he could. I respected him, and he was nice to me which was more than I can say for most of the kids I went to school with. For years it was just Scott that I trusted.

  I’d always been on the shy side, keeping to myself, but this job had helped me come out of my shell a little more. Since I’d been working at Dawson’s I’d made friends with some of the other servers, which had been a first for me. I didn’t usually let people in.

  “Alright people, listen up,” Rick said with command in his voice, and Scott stood at attention with his hand raised in salute.

  I elbowed him again for good measure, knowing he had the innate ability to push Rick over the edge and not know he was doing it. I could tell today wasn’t the day for that.

  “Thank you, Jared,” Rick said. “Now, we’re opening in five minutes. For those of you who don’t know, Justin cut his hand open, and Alyssa took him to the ER, so Hale, Jared and Brooke will take the front of the house. I’ll be back here with Scott and Samir. Any questions?”

  As soon as he said Brooke’s name, I froze, and I knew she was standing right behind me, but I was too much of chicken-shit to turn around. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in months, and even though I knew she’d be back this summer, I’d been mentally blocking out that reality. She was the last person I wanted to face.

  “Who’s in charge out front?” she asked from where I could feel her behind me, and it literally made my stomach turn.

  Her voice was all honey and syrup, but I knew better. She was like one of those fish in the ocean that looks all pretty, and then you get too close and it eats you! That’s how she was – at least from my experience.

  “Welcome back, Brooke,” Rick said sarcastically, and I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my head. “Hale will be in charge.”

  Next to me Hale nodded. Technically I should have been in charge because although Hale had worked at Dawson’s longer, he was only a summer employee, and I was year-round, but Rick knew I hated being in charge. During the year when we weren’t as busy, and Brooke and Hale were away at school, if Rick couldn’t be in charge, he let Alyssa or Rodney do it. He only relied on me as a last resort, and I was fine with that.

  “Okay guys, we’re all set up out front, so let’s do this,” Hale said, as if leading his
baseball team to a championship game. He was just a natural leader. I was not.

  I waited a few seconds until I was sure Brooke and Hale had left the kitchen before I turned and followed them. I knew I’d have to face her eventually, but until then I’d put off the confrontation as long as I had to.

  “Jared,” Rick called out to me as soon as I turned around.

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

  “I hired a new girl today. Cassie, I think her name is. She’s starting tomorrow, and she’s training with you.”

  I felt my stomach twist, and then I sighed, letting out the aggression I suddenly felt in a long breath of air. He’d hired Cassie Witter, and he wanted me to train her. I trained everyone, so that made sense, but for some reason it bugged me that he wanted me to train her. I didn’t like her.

  “Sure. No problem,” I told Rick, because I wasn’t a confrontational person. He nodded in thanks before turning back to Samir who was prepping salads.

  “Du-ude!” Scott said, pushing up behind me when I tried to leave the kitchen. “You are so lucky! Will you ask her about me? Will you find out if she likes me? Please? Please!”

  I ignored him like I usually did when he acted the way he was because of Cassie Witter. It had been a while since he’d gone all crazy over her. He’d initially gotten excited when she’d moved home a few months earlier, but his excitement had tapered off when he never really saw her outside of her house. Once and a while we had Cassie sightings around town, and it would spark something in Scott, and he’d consider talking to her or asking her out, but then he’d see how down she looked and would change his mind. Then he’d spend the next few hours talking about how sad she’d looked and wishing he could do something to make her feel better. It was seriously annoying.

  And okay, so I guess I should have felt bad for her too. I mean, I knew what had happened to her. There had been a shooting at Coleman College where she went to school, and apparently she’d been injured. I knew all about it – unfortunately more than I ever wanted to know.

  In truth, I probably should cut her some slack. I knew exactly how she felt. I figured it wouldn’t hurt me to be nice to her. Even if I didn’t like her, no one should have had to go through what she had. Or what I had, if I was being honest. I’d been in the dining hall the day of the shooting. I’d also been shot.