In Pieces

by Gia Riley

  Becca would take me home if I needed her to, especially since we only live a couple minutes apart, but she told me to give him a chance. This seems like the perfect opportunity. “Sure, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Yeah?” he questions with a smile on his face. The truck behind me honks its horn, and I realize the crossing guard isn’t holding traffic anymore. Rhett pulls his head out of my car and yells, “Go around! I’m trying to have a conversation.”

  I glance in the rearview mirror and notice it’s one of Rhett’s friends giving him a hard time. He listens to what Rhett says, as most usually do when he speaks, but not before yelling a few obscenities out the window. Rhett flips him off, but is laughing when he sticks his head back in the car. “Sorry about that. Jake’s an idiot.”

  “It’s my fault, I’m in the way.”

  “No, he doesn’t really care. He’s just pissed about running at practice that’s why he’s moving his truck closer to the locker room. Lazy ass. ”

  “Makes sense, I think.”

  “I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Kinsley.”

  I nod my head. “Thanks again. Bye, Rhett.”

  THE DINNER RUSH is just settling down when a group of punks from the freshman class stroll into my section and plop down in the corner booth. Of course my biggest table is given to bad tippers. Still, I saunter over to them like I’m thrilled to see my new customers. “My name’s Kinsley, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get you boys to drink?”

  “She’s taking care of us tonight guys, you hear that?” The kid closest to me says, as he jabs his friend in the ribs. They all high five each other like they’re about to get laid for the first time.

  “What’s your specialty?” Another asks, bringing on a second round of childish cackles.

  There’s so much I could say—so much I want to say, but I remain ever the professional while they ogle me like I’m on the menu. I’ve dealt with kids like them more times than I can count. It used to bother me, but now, I’ve learned to either ignore it or dish it back. It’s not like they’re going to spare any of their allowance for my tip, anyway.

  “Do you know what you want to drink?” I ask, one more time, but still, there’s no sense of urgency from them.

  “What’s your rush, little lady? You have all night to take care of us. This place is open twenty-four hours.”

  I point to the name tag pinned to my shirt. “My name is Kinsley. Please use it. And nobody has that kind of time. Besides, I wouldn’t want your mothers coming in here after you. Now last chance for drinks. I have other customers.”

  After a collective round of, “I’ll take a coke,” I walk away, satisfied that I won that round.

  I take my time filling their glasses, wishing I could dump a little something extra in them, but that’s not how I operate. I may get treated poorly, but I never seek revenge.

  After I set their glasses in front of them, they reach for their straws, shooting the wrappers in my face. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

  “I’ll take a side of you,” the one in the corner says, not learning from the first time I put them in their place.

  “Sorry, I don’t hook up with little boys.”

  “None of us are little,” he retorts with a smug grin on his face. They’re the type to sit around measuring their manhood, too. It’s how I know they definitely are little. You don’t need to measure something that speaks for itself.

  “You’re freshmen, so cut the crap and order.”

  “Does your boss know you talk to customers like that? We can tell on you, ya know.”

  “Does your mother know you talk to older girls like that?”

  They all roll their eyes, and before long they finally tell me what they actually want to eat. I’m typing the order into the computer for the kitchen staff when Betty, the owner who is more like a grandma than boss, reaches in the basket next to me for another handful of rolled silverware. “I sat another one in your section, honey. You’re full, but the handsome devil requested you, so I couldn’t very well put him in another section.”

  “That’s okay. I need the money. My car’s in the shop again. Brian took it home with him when his shift ended.”

  “You work so hard for a girl your age. I hate that you got dealt a bad hand, Kinsley. Most kids in this town don’t care about jobs or money, and here you are, working your hind end off for me without having to be told twice.”

  “Betty, we’ve been over this. I have no other choice. I need to save as much money as I can, which hasn’t been easy because my car won’t stop breaking down.”

  Next thing I know, she’s opening the register, pulling money out and shoving it in my pocket. “What are you doing?”

  “What I should have done long ago. Take it, and don’t say another word about it. You’ve never missed a shift in the two years you’ve worked here. You take on extra ones when I ask, even when I don’t. And you skip your free meal more times than you eat it. I owe you, Kinsley. Let me do this for you.”

  “But, Betty.” I’ve never accepted a handout in my life. I’ve always paid my own way no matter how tight I had to pinch my pennies.

  “Not another word. My daughter didn’t stick around after graduation, and you remind me so much of her. She had big dreams, too. Just like you. Now she lives clear across the world with a family of her own. We don’t get to see each other more than once a year, so my staff is my family now. You’re my family, Kinsley.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” I whisper, as I finger the wad of bills inside my pocket. It feels wrong to accept such a generous gift which is why I’ve already decided to pay her back once I have the money. I’m in such a tight spot, I have to accept her generosity.

  She pats the top of my hand with her wrinkled one. With rings on every finger, and enough costume jewelry wrapped around her wrists and neck to open a boutique, she’s the closest thing to a grandmother I have. “Breathe, honey. You’ll get through this. You always do.”

  “Thank you, Betty. I mean it. Thank you.”

  She smiles and hands me a basket of bread for my new table. “Not another word about it. Now, go wait on that handsome devil.”

  He must be good looking to get her excited. She usually can’t stand most of the teenagers that come in here, but those she does like, she treats well.

  I grab a plate of butter for the bread, and walk to my table. I almost toss the entire basket on the floor when I realize my next customer is none other than Rhett.

  He looks up from his menu, just as I stop next to his table. “Hi.” I skip the rest of my normal introduction, setting the bread down before I drop it. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Kinsley,” he says with a shy smile. “You don’t have to wait on me. I feel bad making you work.”

  Even though I’m curious as to why he came here, tonight of all nights, I tell him, “I’m here to work. I don’t mind.”

  He stares at his menu, but hands it back to me. “I’m so lame. I already ate dinner at home.” He ducks his head as he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. And then he pierces me with his gorgeous green eyes. “I was looking for an excuse to see you tonight.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, pathetic. Huh?”

  I shake my head, but before I can tell him I’ve been thinking about him too, a spitball sails from a straw, pelting me on the side of my face. “Seriously?” I grumble. “Those little punks are on my last nerve.”

  Rhett pushes his chair back, but before he can stand up, I hold out my arm to stop him. “I’ll handle it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He scoots his chair back under the table, but gives the freshmen a look so menacing, they cower in the corner of the booth.

  “They’re mad at me. I guess spitballs are the only form of revenge their pea-sized brains can come up with.”

  “Why are they mad?”

  “For not swooning when they tried to hit on
me with their pimply charm.”

  He laughs and reaches into the basket for a roll. “So, I shouldn’t take any notes from them?”

  “None, but I’ll stop rambling about them. Are you sure you don’t want anything? A drink, at least?”

  “I’m in no rush. How about a root beer.”

  “You got it.”

  “Oh wait, apple pie, too. Betty’s is the best.”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  I’m almost certain he stares at my butt the entire way to the kitchen where I hand his order to the cook. I load my tray with the hooligans’ food along with Rhett’s drink and pie, and as I was expecting, they’re all laughing when I get back to their table. They think they’re clever changing seats to try to mess me up. Thankfully, unlike them, I have a brain between my ears. “Do you boys need anything else?”

  “I’m still waiting for my side of you,” one mumbles. “You’re smokin’.” He takes a quick sip of his drink before setting the glass back down over the ring of condensation left on the placemat. He sucks on a piece of ice, but as he tries to do some ridiculous trick with his tongue to impress me, it shoots back his throat.

  He claws at his neck, almost throwing up on the table right in front of me. His face is bright red from coughing so violently. “Jesus, don’t hurt yourself.” I wait a few seconds to make sure he’s not going to die on my watch, and when I see his color return to normal, and he’s able to catch his breath, I walk away.

  Rhett watches the entire exchange, and he doesn’t look happy about it. He motions for me to come over, and I do. “Do you always get treated like shit?”

  “Not every day, but most. We get a lot of traffic from the high school.”

  “That’s bullshit. Does your manager know what goes on in her restaurant?”

  “Rhett, really. I’m used to it. If she kicked out every kid who gave me a hard time, she’d be out of business in a week.” I look down at my hand, not even realizing it’s on Rhett’s arm, as I’m pleading with him to let their behavior slide. “Sorry.”

  Before I can snatch it away from him, he stops me. His warm skin against my cold hand takes the chill away, instantly. “Don’t be, sorry.” He lets me have my hand back, but not before his eyes roam across my face, settle on my lips for the briefest of seconds, and then find their way back to my eyes.

  “Your car wasn’t in the parking lot. I wasn’t sure you were even here.”

  “Brian took my car.” My voice cracks, and my mouth is suddenly so dry, it hurts to swallow. Rhett hands his cup to me, offering me a sip. “I’ll get in trouble. I’m okay.”

  “Kinsley, take a drink.”

  I hold his cup up to my lips, and swallow a little bit of his root beer. I drink it all the time, but sharing it with him, it tastes better than it usually does. “Thank you.”

  “Who’s Brian?”

  “He’s a new cook here, but he’s also a mechanic, so he offered to help with my car.” Rhett nods his head, and I can tell he has more questions. “What is it?”

  “I didn’t think you had a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t. Brian’s thirty-five and very married.” The relief in his eyes can’t be mistaken, and it gives me a little boost of confidence.

  “How are you getting home tonight without your car?”

  “I’ll catch a ride with someone.”

  Rhett stares at the placemat in front of him, picking at the soggy corner from the dripping condensation on his glass. “I hate it, Kinsley.”

  “What do you hate?” I wait for him to look at me, and it takes a few seconds, but he does.

  His eyes are intense yet sincere as he says, “That you’re all alone. Your brother was a pain in the ass when it came to you, warning us all to stay away, but at least I knew you were in good hands when he was around.”

  Now it all makes sense. I’m a pity date. “Is that why you’re here? You feel sorry for me? Because if it is, I manage just fine.” I turn to walk away, but he grabs onto my apron string, pulling me back to his table.

  “That’s not why I’m here. I’ve wanted to ask you out for two years.”

  “Two years?” He’s not making any sense. If he’s wanted to, why hasn’t he?

  “Yes, for two long ass years I waited for your brother to go to college. Like I said, he warned us you were off limits. I knew I couldn’t fight him on it—he would have kicked my ass and ruined any chance for us. So, I’ve been biding my time, waiting until the right moment before I approached you.”

  “Yet you’ve gone out with other girls, Rhett. You’ve been to dances, on dates, to parties. I may not have been there, but I hear all the gossip at school.”

  “I know, and I shouldn’t have done that. I was too worried what everyone else thought of me. If I could go back and do it all over again, I would have taken a chance and stood up to your brother. I wouldn’t have gone out with the other girls.”

  I shake my head. “You went out with a couple of them more than once. How do you explain that?”

  He takes a sip of his drink before continuing. I watch his lips the entire time they’re wrapped around the rim of the glass. “None of my relationships ever worked out, Kinsley. There was a reason for that.”

  “This is high school, Rhett. They’re not supposed to last forever.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me, I guess. We’re eighteen, and forever is a lifetime away. How could I possibly know what I’ll want when I’m fifty? Sometimes, I struggle with deciding what I want for lunch.”

  He listens, but with confidence he says, “They didn’t work out because they weren’t you, Kinsley. Every time I was with one of them, I thought about what it would be like to be with you instead. Before long, I realized it was better being with you in my head, as a dream, than it was being with any of them in reality.”

  I never realized Rhett was so poetic or that he was a romantic. Then again, I wouldn’t have known considering we’ve spoken more today than the last eleven years of our lives combined. “That’s intense.” I reach in front of him to take his empty plate, but he stops me with his hand on mine.

  “Don’t.”

  “Aren’t you finished?”

  “I am. I mean don’t pretend like it’s weird for me to care about you.”

  “But it is. Rhett, I’ve gone to school with you all my life, and now we’re almost finished. Isn’t it a little late for all this?”

  “I don’t think so—that’s not what I’m saying.”

  Before Rhett can say anything else, Betty interrupts. “Kinsley, you’re needed in the kitchen.”

  “Coming.” I take his plate, and grab his empty glass. “I’ll get your check. Actually, it’s on me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I’d rather he just leave. I’m overwhelmed.

  Betty’s waiting for me at the register, just outside the kitchen door. “Brian called, he figured out what’s wrong with the car, but he’s not going to be able to come for you.”

  “He did, that’s a relief.”

  “Honey, you know I’d take you home if I still drove, but these old eyes aren’t good at night.”

  I’m about to tell her I’ll call Carson when Rhett chimes in. “I’ll take her home. She did buy my pie. It’s the least I can do.”

  Betty claps her hands with delight, oblivious to the conversation I just had with Rhett a few minutes ago. “That would be wonderful. I knew this young man was a good one as soon as I saw him. Thank you, dear.”

  I appreciate his offer, but I don’t want to become a charity care, either. “He’s already taking me home from school tomorrow. I don’t want to inconvenience him.”

  “Kinsley, I’m offering. Let me take you home. I want to,” he adds.

  I don’t want to argue with him. In fact, fighting with him is the last thing I want to do. I want to get to know him better—even if I still think he might be living in a dream world. “Okay. Thanks. My sister’s at work, I’ll let her know it’s covered.”

  Rhett waits while I type out a text, a
nd then says, “Let me see your phone.”

  I hand it to him and he glances at the message I sent Kate.

  “Just a friend?” he says, with an unexpected hint of disappointment.

  I try to grab the phone out of his hand, but he holds it higher than I can reach. “Rhett!”

  “Hold on.” He punches his number into my contacts. “There. Now you have no excuse. If you need me, you call me. And if you don’t, text me anyway.”

  I laugh as he hands my phone back to me. “Clever.” When I glance at the screen, I snort. Instead of listing his name in my contact list, like a normal person would, he listed himself as “NOT a friend.”

  “You know that’s going to come up on the screen—if you ever call me.”

  “When I call you,” he stresses. “That was the point.”

  “Okay, when you call.”

  Rhett leans closer to my screen, checking to see if Kate responded. “She okay with it?”

  I tap out one more message to my sister. “Yeah, she’s fine with it.”

  “Are you going to tell her my name if she asks? Or are you going to make something up?”

  I’m not sure I’m ready to tell Kate about Rhett. Not that there’s much to tell. “I might tell her. I have to see what kind of mood she’s in. She’s weird about guys, sometimes.”

  “Good. She should be.”

  I laugh at how firm his response is. “Are you warning me of your asshole ways?”

  “Kinsley, I’m one of the good ones, I promise you that. Your sister is, too, if she’s looking out for you.”

  “She’s a great sister.” I shouldn’t, but I get a little defensive for the simple fact that Kate’s the closest thing to a parent I have. She’s judged by everyone in town for getting stuck with her little sister and brother—even if she’s never once complained about it.

  Rhett tugs on my apron again, pulling me close enough that he can slide his arm around my waist. “That’s why I want her to know about me. If she means so much to you, then I want to know her. In fact, I’m not taking you home until you agree to tell her who I am.”

  “Why didn’t that approach work with my brother?”

  Rhett winces when I call him out. “Kinsley, that’s different, and you know it. Plus, I have a bad feeling Wyatt will still try to kick my ass if he finds out.”