"There is that," he said and I had no idea what he was talking about, feeling with a panic that he'd just read my thoughts. Oh right, quitting smoking.
"Will you?" I asked.
"One day, I suppose." He leaned back on the wall, standing not far from me. "To be honest, I like the timeout it gives me. It's a shit reason to smoke, but it's true. Gives me a moment to step back from the crap and recoup."
I bit my thumb, trying to find some way of having a different conversation with him.
"What's on your mind?" he said, turning sideways so he leaned on the wall with his shoulder, his ankles crossed casually. Did nothing ever stress him out? I wish I was like that, just took things for what they were and didn't take everything so personally. Had he always been like that or was that something that came with being around for a while?
Fuck it, I just had to pull myself together and get over it. "Do you, you know, want to catch a movie, or something, sometime?" I'm sure my voice shook while I said it, but at least I'd had the balls to do it. Did catching a movie sound totally immature?
"Are you asking me out, Miss Minnow?" he said. I could hear the amusement in his voice. He wasn't shocked. Okay, was he going to torture me like Riley did? Pummel me because I'd expressed an interest. Yes, damnit, I'm interested in you. Grow up and get over it. "I suppose we could, potentially."
I tried not to smile as broadly as I was. It was actually the first time I'd asked a guy out. In the past, I'd always waited, and now, I kind of had a 'date.’ Never really done that before either. "Cool," I said, happy to leave it there for now. It felt like a big step.
"But right now, I have to go to the warehouse."
"Oh, okay," I said. I hadn’t even known there was a warehouse.
"Make sure no one misbehaves while I'm gone." He smiled and pushed away from the wall, walking out of the back area to the parking lot. Did he just leave me in charge? Matilda was apparently out of the 'left in charge while I'm gone' responsibility. There was the fallout for her coup attempt—she was no longer his second in command. I wondered if it burned.
After finishing my smoke, quietly pleased that things had kind of progressed, I chucked the butt in the smokers' can and walked back inside, returning to my locker.
"It is almost pathetic to see you buzz around him like a fly," Riley said, appearing by the lockers. Oh, here we go. "Salivating, hoping he will drop you a crumb."
"Oh, for the love of God, fuck off, Riley."
"Hoping for a promotion?"
"Yes, all my life I've wanted to be the person manning the drive thru. This is all so I can dislodge Deseree and take over her job," I said sarcastically.
"Trampling down such a well-worn path too, where so many have gone before you."
"And why is that Riley? Is it so inconceivable that I'm interested in someone like Julian?"
"He's like fifteen years older than you."
"And he's cool. He actually likes me. He's nice. And can you imagine, hanging with someone who's actually nice to you, someone who appreciates me. What a fucking idea! Instead, what should I do, Riley, hang with someone like you? Wait around so you can belittle and degrade me? I know, why don't I subject myself to that every day, again and again. That sound like an awesome way to live my life. Why can't you be my boyfriend, Riley? That sounds like so much fun." I looked him straight in the eyes, those dark brown eyes. He really was cute. It was such a shame he was such a dick. For a moment, I remembered that we'd been quite intimate not so long ago on a drug-addled night.
"So you run around like a love sick puppy and make a complete dick of yourself," he said. His judgement sat there in his eyes, accusing me of probably all sorts of things. For once, I didn't care. "I really got to know: what exactly it is he does that turns all of your heads?"
"He's actually present," I said as plainly as I could. That was what it was. He was there, just him, looking at just you. You weren't a reflection of him like Brandon seemed to treat Ella, or Riley's punching bag, or some means to bolster some immature, shit guy's self-esteem, like my ex. "He isn't trying to tear anyone down. He actually wants what's best for you. Can you imagine, a boyfriend who actually supports you."
"Supports you?" he said disbelievingly, twisting my words around to sound like I was looking for someone to pay my bills and give me a cushy ride.
I gave him a scathing look. "You don't get it and you never will." I snapped my locker door shut with a bang. "I don't have to watch my back around him. He's got my back, and it turns out I'd go a long way for a guy like that."
"So you're going to run around here salivating after his cock without an ounce of pride?"
"Pride in what?" I chose to forgo the issue that he was being completely revolting. It wasn't like it was new. "Pride in what, Riley?"
He didn't answer, instead stared down at me.
"Yep, if that's what it takes," I said walking away. "Oh, and cock wise, sooo good." I bit my lip for effect. I didn't care if Riley was calling me a slut, or that I was indicating that my knowledge was more extensive with regards to Julian’s anatomy than it really was. I believed everything I'd just said. It was a bit of a revelation. You could actually go for the guy who liked you and treated you well. Being treated like shit wasn't a sign you were hanging out with someone worth more than you. I wished Ella would understand that. The future seemed a bit brighter if you took that on.
* * *
Chapter 27:
* * *
It had been a brilliant day. The sun had shone, the weather had been warm and I had spent it at home doing nothing much. All days should be like that. Still hadn't made any progress on what I wanted to study, to do with my future. There was the whole law thing, but the thought just made me sigh. Accounting was another stable, high paying job, but again, sigh.
But they say you didn't need to know your freshman year, you could just bumble along like the clueless idiot you were, checking off the credits you needed.
I'd also thought a lot about Julian, hanging with him. What was his life like outside of work? I couldn't wait to find out. I bet he had a good relationship with his mom. Obviously, he was excellent in the sack, judging by the word.
Eventually I had to drag myself off to work, embrace my dysfunctional Coast Burger family. I was excited about seeing Julian, and my shooting down of Riley had lifted my spirits. I'd held my own and I was taking none of his shit. I was going to continue in that vein. It was time to watch out for what I wanted and to hell with everyone else. Maybe I'd learned that from Deseree in some way. She just did what she needed to do and anyone else could stick it.
There was nothing out of the ordinary when I got there. Matilda hadn't murdered everyone in a rampage—bonus. Riley stood at his grill, barely looking at me—double bonus. Julian was in his office and everything was as it should be.
I waved to Ella and she waved back, perhaps a little half-heartedly. Oh, no, was there residual drama to ruin the perfect mood? I hoped not. It felt like everything was hitting equilibrium for once. I kept an eye on her, but she refused to look at me. The more time that went past, the more convinced I was that something was up.
When there was a pause in the flow of customers, I walked out into the restaurant. "You okay?"
"Fine," she said and closed her eyes, scratching along one of her perfectly manicure eyebrows. Was that a dissing thing, like, I'm too annoyed to talk to you? Would I make it worse by pushing her? If she had a thing, she could just come out and say it. She continued sweeping, moving the broom between the tables and seats.
It was hot out here. Julian might have to do something about the air-conditioning.
Okay, enough awkwardly standing by waiting. If she didn't want to say what was on her mind, then she didn't have to, I guessed. It was her call. I'd thought we were closer than that, but guess not. It kind of hurt, sucked actually. She was the one out of everyone here I'd thought of as a friend.
I returned to my register, smiled at the exhausted woman approaching with three ch
ildren hanging off her. Her hair hung lankily and she had a bandage on the side of her neck. Looks wise, she'd just given up. She wore no makeup and her hair hadn't seen a style in years. She certainly didn't represent an advertisement's perfect vision of motherhood. In fact, working here, and I normally saw very few mothers and children outside of here, these women were harried, exhausted and swearing at their kids. Some of them actually screamed, snapping like lunatics at the smallest things. Maybe it was just that bad mothers came here. The good mothers were at home feeding their children organic meals they'd spent hours cooking from scratch—not that I'd seen any of those mothers around growing up. My mother had never cooked me a meal wearing pearls and heels.
The woman counted out the money carefully, a kid tugging on her arm as she tried to get money out of her purse. I smiled tightly as I took the ragged bills from her. Another vision of a future from hell. I gave her an extra sundae. She'd assume it was a mistake and not mention anything. Everyone deserved a bonus every now and then.
"Fuck off," Ella yelled, standing near a group of young guys. "I'm not here for you to fucking grab at."
Obviously, we were not allowed to be rude to the customers, no matter how they behaved. We certainly weren't allowed to tell them to fuck off. With sharp strides, she marched toward the counter and kept going. I could see that she was teary, her hand to the tip of her nose, marching past kind of crouched over, without looking at any of us. Something was completely off with her. I followed as she kept going into the lunch room, where she paced around.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm tired of these assholes thinking they can just grab my ass like that's alright." She was so loud the people in the restaurant probably heard each word. "I'm tired of the bullshit. That's all it is, total, fucking bullshit."
This reaction was well beyond any tension in our relationship. She looked agitated, pacing with her arms wrapped around her.
"I'm not here for people to just use and discard. I'm a real person. I'm not just a fucking vagina."
Something must have happened, something outside of here. "What happened?"
"Nothing," she said defensively.
She was clearly imploding, but didn't want to talk about it. I had no idea what to do.
"I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of the crap and guys thinking I'm some piece of ass they can just get into." She stopped and crouched down. "I'm a person; I have real feelings."
Surprisingly, no one was gathering around, watching the show like rubberneckers at a car crash. They were staying away from this one.
"You know," she continued, "I wish I was a lesbian. Life would be so much better. Guys fucking suck. They tell me what to do, how to sit, like I'm some fucking doll. Do this, do that, don't talk.”
"Don't talk?" I said. What kind of guys was she hanging with? Then again, I'd seen Brandon drive past here, with his fifty thousand dollar car, or whatever it cost, dressed in his expensive clothes, which looked crap, incidentally.
"Shut up, spread your legs. My opinion doesn't matter. What I want doesn't matter." She slid down the wall into a sitting position. "They care nothing about what I actually think. They'd prefer it if I didn't in any way, just a robot smiling as they give me orders." She paused and bit her lips together. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not good at anything. I don't have grades worth shit. All I have is my looks. It's literally all I have, but the price is that you're treated like someone's handbag, there to make them look good, to spread your legs whenever they feel like it. And then with anything I want, it's like this huge imposition. Oh, you don't want to put out? Then what fucking good are you?" She was shaking her head bitterly. Tears started trickling down her cheeks, mascara smudging around her eyes, creating tracks along her foundation. It still kept her nose from going absolutely red which mine would. "It just sucks," she said. "At least you're smart; you're going to school. I need these fucking assholes."
"No you don't," I said. I wasn't sure whether she was talking about Brandon or some other asshole she'd been with. It didn't matter, I guessed.
"Yeah, I do. I don't have a choice. I'm always going to be the accessory. They are literally only interested in me because the way I look, the way I make them look. And I need them, you know, or else end up working here for the rest of my life. Those are my choices. Shit or shit. That's the deal."
"It doesn't have to be."
A shadow fell across us and Ella looked up, her wet eyes and cheeks contorting again. Looking up, I saw Julian, staring down at her. He sighed and twisted his head slightly. She kept looking at him and I felt the full force of their history together. Stepping over to us, he bent over and picked her up, lifting her in his arms. She melted into his chest as he carried her out the back.
And that was how a potential relationship went from potential to not. I had completely underestimated the depth of their relationship and that when she was a mess, he would come running. The worst was that I didn't think she'd done it on purpose. She'd just been in pieces and he'd come. Maybe it would be better if she had purposefully tried to tank my fledgling something with him by trying to manipulate. Then I could get angry and all war-pathy, but this was just Ella falling apart and Julian responding. She had warned me he would, and I suspected he would more so for her than for me. It sucked.
The nice little future with a boyfriend and quiet, relaxed nights staying in faded before my eyes. I'd lost this game. In the blink of an eye, it had fleeted away.
Ella did need someone who actually saw her, saw past the pristine outside. Julian did and always had, but she had been too caught up with bagging someone worthy, some player others looked up to—one of the car boys, with bling and rich daddies.
Julian was a frickin gem, and how could I deny her the fortune of having his loyalty? She was my friend and I should wish someone like Julian for her—provided she wasn't stupid enough to walk away this time. Although I'm not sure I could go after him if she did, knowing that he'd chosen her over me. That would probably always sit there, even if I couldn't exactly begrudge his choice. I deserved to be someone's first choice.
Tucking my knees up, I remained sitting against the wall. This day had taken a complete one eighty on me. Everything that had seemed so bright had just fallen apart, like sand in a strong incoming wave, just melted in a second. Maybe it served me right for wanting something, or someone, in this case—someone who was never mine to start with.
* * *
Chapter 28:
* * *
Groaning, I sat down at our dining table. I seriously didn't want to go to work today. Last night had been awful, having to hang around and work, knowing I'd effectively been passed over, relegated as second best. It was my own fault for thinking something could go right. Was I feeling sorry for myself? Hell yes. It sucked and I didn't care what anyone told me, which incidentally no one had. And in the end, I'd slinked home without saying anything to anyone, only interested in licking my wounds with ice cream and crap TV.
I could decide to not go today, or any other day, find some other job and not deal with the crap I felt, having to face Julian. I could well imagine that awkward conversation, or maybe he would just ignore the whole thing. Sighing, I ran my palm over my neck, wishing it would all just go away. I'd been on such a high yesterday, thinking of possible futures. It had all been a big self-deception. Why didn't I see these things? I’d just stumbled straight into that one.
My mom would be home soon and she would ask all sorts of questions why I was still there. Staying might be as painful as going—plus if I went, I wouldn't have to go through the soul destroying experience of begging perfect strangers for another job, potentially ending up somewhere permanently awful. Why couldn't I just go back to bed?
Picking up a pen, I twisted the cap around. It really was getting late. I needed to man up and get off my ass, plaster a smile on my face and get on with my job—take a leaf out of Matilda's book and just smile.
I forced myself off the chair and to walk to the door,
picking up my keys and bag, just do it before I started thinking too much. The cicadas were chirping outside, relishing the cooler late afternoon temperature.
Abruptly, I stopped short, seeing Riley at the edge of the road, leaning on the passenger side door of his car with his arms crossed. For a moment I thought I was seeing things, but he really was here. Why? "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to see how big a pussy you were."
I fought color flaring up my face because it had been a struggle to get myself out of the house today.
"One, screw you; two, how'd you know where I live anyway?" I was kind of creeped that he knew where I lived.
"Julian's not huge on security," he said, watching me without moving as I walked past, heading to my car, glaring at him resentfully. I had no idea what he wanted and I didn't want to know. What kind of person comes around and waits outside your house?
Getting in, I started the ignition, throwing him a last filthy look as the car shuddered to life. Came to see how big a pussy I was—like it was any of his business. And for his information, this didn't impact me in the least. That was a complete lie, but I had walked out the door, so he could just stick it.
Without looking at him further, as he was infuriatingly still standing, leaning on the passenger door, I pulled away and started driving to work. He caught up with me at the next stop light. What was it to him anyway? Was he just looking for something else to rub in my face? Screw him, I thought bitterly.
Riley chasing me got me over the discomfort of walking into the building, quickly shoving my bag in the locker and pulling my uniform out. I shut myself away in the bathroom to change.
Done Burger Page 14
