Night Prowler Part One

by Samantha Steele

  “You… want her?” he asked, more curious than angry. I nodded. “You’re really interested in her?”

  “I don’t know her, but yeah. I am,” I said, relieved Zac wasn’t angry. Zac stared at me sternly.

  “Can I trust you?” he asked, his tone firm.

  “Yes,” I said. “You can trust me, Zac.”

  Zac took a deep breath and nodded.

  So there it was. I had permission.

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  Zachary Bell

  I stared at Mitch. I’d just given him permission to date the only girl I’d ever liked. But he was right. I had to quit pitying myself and simply let her go. I didn’t have the confidence to ask her out, not after all this time, so why should I keep Mitch from liking her?

  I knew why. Mitch always got what I wanted. It didn’t seem fair for him to be so damn lucky. Of course, I guess on his side Sam must be incredibly enticing. She’s the only girl I’ve ever known who didn’t seem openly interested in Mitchell Mantel.

  “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I said, starting to eat again. Mitch laughed.

  “Okay, I’ll make note of that. Only ask her for her phone number.”

  “Okay, never mind,” I said. “You’re not Evan. I trust you.”

  “I hope you wouldn’t let Evan after her, not that he would bother asking you,” Mitch said seriously.

  “He wouldn’t listen if I told him not to. But you know Evan. He was screwing college girls back in the eighth grade,” I said. Mitch shook his head in disgust.

  “I’m Zac, I’ll be your waiter for tonight,” I said. I was waiting on a really ugly guy and a tiny girl with what looked like a deflated Mohawk. She wore very little make-up and a silky green dress. I recognized her as one of Sam’s close friends.

  “Oh, hi!” the girl said. “I’m Sam’s friend Cami.”

  “Hi,” I replied with a weak smile. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Sure,” she said happily. “I’ll have a coke.” After giving her date a strange look (he was viciously glaring at me) she said,

  “and he’ll have one, too.”

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  I nodded and walked behind the counter to the soda machine, in the front left corner of the restaurant. Cami’s table was very close, but their backs were to me. Since it was after the lunch rush but before the dinner surge, there were few people in the restaurant and it was quiet. If I strained my ears, I could hear their conversation.

  “We might as well leave,” the guy was saying.

  “Oh my God, just shut up,” Cami said, anger brimming in her tone. “It’s not like we’re double dating with them, okay? Zac is actually very nice, and Mitch just asked Sam out, remember?

  She asked Mitch if Zac was okay with that, and he said Zac ‘gave him permission,’ so Zac’s probably hurting a little!”

  I was slightly angered by the fact that Cami felt like she could claim what my emotional state was, but I was more frustrated at the fact that she was right.

  “I don’t want to be around anyone she likes,” the guy droned.

  “She likes me, asshole,” Cami snapped. I decided it was time to bring their drinks. When I came over, Cami shot her date a warning glare and thanked me.

  “Are you ready to order?” I asked. Cami nodded.

  “I’ll have a Caesar salad and the fettuccini Alfredo with chicken,” she said. I wrote that down.

  “And you, sir?” I asked, feeling a little weird calling a guy younger than me “sir.” The guy looked at me for a second, then a disturbing expression crossed his face and he started rattling off his dinner order faster than I could comprehend it.

  “I’ll have the house salad, but with cashews instead of almonds, and balsamic vinegar and olive oil instead of your house sauce, and I want spinach instead of lettuce. And I want the onion soup, but I don’t want pieces of onion in it, and I want cheese bread on the side instead of crackers. I want the French dip, but I don’t want the dip and I want Swiss cheese on one side only. I want stir-fried onions and peppers on it, too, and I want a mix of honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise in a small dish on the side.

  Actually, I want that heated up and in the onion soup so I can dip

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  my sandwich in it. And I want mashed potatoes instead of fries, but I want the skins in the potatoes and I want ranch and cheddar cheese mixed in. That’s all.”

  I stared at the guy, my mouth slightly agape. Then I let a smug smile slide across my face.

  “So, in other words,” I said rudely, “you want the cashew salad and an American dip with honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise?” The boy stared at me, shocked. “The cashew salad is the house salad with a different dressing, cashews, and spinach.

  Our American dip is a hot roast beef sandwich with stir-fried onions and peppers on toasted Swiss cheese bread. You dip it in onion broth. It comes with mashed potatoes, which we make with the skins in it and cheddar cheese. The only thing you added was the honey mustard and garlic mayonnaise.”

  “Um, yeah,” the boy choked, clearing his throat.

  “I’ll have that right up,” I said. I walked back to the kitchen and slapped the order onto the order wheel. “First bastard of the day,” I called to Rufus, the chef. “Leave the Caesar salad and the fettuccini alone, though.” Cami was polite.

  “You got it, Zac,” Rufus said, his tone thrilled. Mitch walked up and slapped his order next to mine.

  “You always get stuck with the assholes,” he said. We looked at each other.

  “Don’t fuck with people who handle your food!” we quoted. Waiting is our favorite movie, since it’s so true. Roaring with laughter, Mitch and I both went back to finish waiting our tables.

  Ten minutes later, I was still chuckling from my little joke with Mitch. I’d already delivered Cami and her date their salads (her date’s with a little extra “dressing”), which was good because the dinner surge was finally starting, and Mitch’s section was filling up. Mine was still fairly slow, so I started helping close up some tables in Mitch and Allie’s sections. Allie is one of our waitresses, and she usually keeps the same hours Mitch and I do because she’s a senior.

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  I was taking someone’s credit card to the register, which is by the soda machine, when I decided to listen in on Cami and her date again. I caught them in the middle of a heated discussion.

  “I hope he spits in your food!” Cami growled. “You had no right to speak to him that way, and you have no right to speak about Sam that way, either!”

  “Oh, will you just drop it? She’s not here, and he’s not going to spit in my food.” I laughed to myself. Yeah, I’m not going to spit in your food, but I can’t speak for Rufus.

  “Look, I don’t care what you think about her but she’s my best friend and I refuse to listen to you talk shit about her.”

  “She’s trying to close you off from me!” the boy cried, causing a few people to stare. He lowered his voice so I had to strain even harder to hear. “She wanted to double with Mitch tonight.”

  “Uh, yeah, because it was his idea and they’re both nervous. Duh,” Cami scoffed. “How is asking for a double date trying to keep us ‘closed off’ from each other? And you should be ashamed of yourself! They broke off having a date at all because of you. Look, Mitch is working tonight.”

  “She doesn’t want us alone! She always has to be supervising.”

  “Oh my God, that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said. She just didn’t want to be alone with Mitch yet, she barely knows him! I wish we had doubled! Then maybe Mitch could’ve beaten some sense into you when you were being a jackass.”

  Realizing I was taking too long with the credit card, I brought it back to the table and went to wait on a new set of customers. I was glad Sam had good friends who would stand up for her behind her back. On the other hand, I wondered what the hell Cami w
as doing with that loser, and why hadn’t Mitch told me he’d asked Sam out already?

  “Here ya go,” Rufus said, proudly presenting me with a plate of steaming fettuccini and a cold sandwich.

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  “Rufus, the American dips are supposed to be hot,” I said.

  Rufus looked at me, concerned.

  “I thought you said I could have my way with it?” I sighed. He was right, I had said that. “I already screwed with the salad, so I just left this cold,” he said. Rufus knew I didn’t really enjoy messing with peoples’ food unless they really ticked me off.

  When I dropped off the food, I asked if there was anything else they needed.

  “Damn straight there’s something else I need,” the guy said. “I thought this was a hot sandwich, and I need a refill.” I took his cup and refilled it, but with root beer.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “Uh, hello, I thought this was a hot sandwich?” the guy asked. I looked at him with a confused expression.

  “I can’t change your memory,” I said. “But that’s the sandwich you ordered. Is there something you want me to do?

  Perhaps I could eat it for you and tell you how good it tastes?”

  The guy glared at me. I could tell Cami was suppressing the urge to laugh. She seemed to be enjoying her food.

  “I want you to heat it up,” her date growled. “And there’s not enough soup to dip it in. I want more. And if you spit in it, I’ll know!”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” I said politely, taking the plate from him. And it was true. I never spit in the dishes. That’s Rufus’s job.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Rufus snapped as I handed the plate back to him.

  “He says it’s supposed to be a hot sandwich, and he says there’s not enough soup,” I said. Rufus stuck his finger in the soup.

  “The soup is hot! See, there’s steam! Why does he care if the sandwich is cold? And not enough soup for dipping? I’ll give him soup for dipping,” Rufus muttered. I turned my back until Rufus had finished his dirty deed, whatever it was, and returned the sandwich to Cami’s date. Rufus had given me an entire bowl

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  of onion soup for dipping. The bread of the sandwich was now extremely soggy, and I assumed the juices had run out of the meat when it was reheated.

  The guy looked at his meal with unappeased eyes.

  “Is that better?” I asked. He looked at me and nodded glumly. “Enjoy your meal,” I said, starting to walk away. But then I stopped and turned back to him. “And, just to let you know, you would have gotten far better service on a double date. Everyone respects Mitch.”

  Cami turned bright red, realizing I’d overheard at least part of their conversation. I smiled and walked away, knowing she’d leave me a decent tip.

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  Samantha Steele

  “It was so funny,” Cami cried, getting a soda out of my fridge. “If I didn’t like Zac before, I totally love him now. Jake really needed that mental beating.”

  “Cami, please, why do you choose to like Zac now? After we’re done? Mitch is a waiter, too!”

  “Oh, yes, we saw him. He waved at me, but he was really busy,” Cami said, sitting down at the table next to me. “I’m sorry.

  I just meant that you have really great taste in guys, and I totally don’t.”

  “Cami, that’s not true,” I said, suddenly feeling sorry for her myself. “You just got roped into Jacob somehow… Kris was great, and, well, Devin was bad but I’ve had my fair share of psychos, too.”

  Cami sighed. “You’re right. I just need to get rid of him.

  If he kills himself, it’s not my fault. Maybe I’ll tell his parents what he said. Then at least I’ll know I tried.” I looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “You seriously think he’d kill himself if you dumped him?” I asked. She nodded, then looked down at her hands.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well… it’s just something he said at dinner Friday night… something about you. It just irked me a little.”

  “What did he say?” I asked, my voice strained with nervousness.

  “It’s probably nothing. He just said he wished you were dead. So you wouldn’t be in the way. Normally I would just brush it off… but he said it with this relishing seriousness, not the joking tone he usually uses. Like he actually meant it.” Cami shuddered and cuddled my poodle to her chest.

  “Hey, Sam,” Mitch said.

  It was 7:00 in the morning, and he was opening his car door to take me to school. We’d been on enough dates to hurdle

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  the initial awkwardness, and I supposed we were finally an official couple, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Mitchell,” I said, standing on my tip toes to kiss him. He closed the door behind me and got in the driver seat. On our way to South, I told him about Cami and Jacob’s date, only I left out the fact that Jacob wanted me dead. Mitch thought it was funny that Zac was their waiter. He said the chef probably messed with Jacob’s food.

  When we got to school, Mitch opened the door for me again and led me inside. Austin was sitting at a table with a few other guys and two girls, one I recognized as Macy Hawskins. I rolled my eyes as she bit her lower lip and crossed her arms tightly in front of her, pushing her minimal cleavage into view. I disguised a laugh as a cough when I realized my boobs were a lot bigger than hers.

  “Hi, Mitch,” she said in what I assumed was her best seductive voice. Mitch ignored her, and I smiled.

  “Did you finish your astronomy project?” Mitch asked Austin. I got out my notebook and began doodling absentmindedly, knowing that I had no place at the upperclassmen table. Besides, I didn’t know anyone, and I always felt uncomfortable among Mitch’s friends.

  Luckily for me, Annika suddenly came running up to the table. She slid into the seat next to me, bumping me into Mitch, who took one look at my best friend and continued his conversation with Austin. I rolled my eyes at his lack of hello.

  “Dude!” Annika squealed. “Joan Jett is playing at the prom!”

  My heart stopped. Annika was jumping in her seat and staring at me with a giant grin, waiting for my reply. I tried to choke out an answer, but I couldn’t make any sound. The whole table quieted down, and Mitch put his hand on my shoulder in concern.

  “Sam? Are you okay?” he asked. I made a small choking noise.

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  “Did you hear me?” Annika said excitedly. “Joan Jett, the Queen of Noise, is playing at OUR prom! This little hole-in-the-mountain of a high school is going to house the biggest female rock legend of all time!”

  I finally found my voice. Annika and I both jumped up in unison and hugged each other, screaming and jumping up and down.

  “Joan Jett is playing at the prom!” I shouted.

  “I know!” Annika screamed. “I saw the sign just now when I walked in! ‘Tickets on sale! JOAN JETT IS PLAYING

  THE PROM!’”

  My heart swelling, I whirled around to see Mitch standing up. He put a hand on my back and kissed the top of my head.

  “I’m on it,” he said. “Try not to burst a lung while I’m gone.”

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  Macy Hawskins

  I watched jealously as Mitch left to go buy prom tickets for his slutty girlfriend. He should be buying them for me. Sam and her ugly blonde friend were staring at each other with huge grins on their faces. I looked at her friend’s totally unfashionable outfit: black jeans, shoes with duct-taped holes in them, and a disgusting guy’s t-shirt with a dead rabbit on it.

  Sam looked a little better, with a fitted Paramore tee, a black True Blood hoodie, dark blue jeans, and a pair of brand-new looking chocolate-colored Coach tennis shoes. But none of that mattered because Sam is fat, so her butt looked humungous, and her hair was flat and boring.
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  My hair was curled and teased into a beautiful bump on the top. I was wearing a low-cut pink tank top with a silver shrug that brought out my deep brown eyes. I had on a short, silky skirt and hot pink pointed-toe heels. I looked, well, absolutely fabulous.

  “You know,” I said loud enough for the girls to hear me,

  “only Sam can go to the prom. Nobody asked her friend there.” I feigned sympathy as I let the news sink in.

  The blonde girl’s face fell so fast it nearly hit the floor.

  Sam glared at me and then put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

  “We’ll get someone to ask you, Anni,” Sam said. “Mitch has a lot of friends. You don’t even care about a real date, right?”

  Anni shook her head. “Exactly. You WILL go, and so will Cami!”

  Anni seemed to brighten a bit, but she still looked pretty down. I smiled to myself. I’d done my bad deed for the day.

  “Would you go to prom with me?”

  I opened my mouth so wide my gum fell out. My eyes darted from the speaker to Anni, taking in all the incompatibility.

  “Um, sure!” Anni said brightly. “Do… do you know anyone that would take Cami?”

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  “Sure. I know some people.”

  “What the hell!” I cried. “Evan!”

  Evan looked at me with is usual glare.

  “Yes, Macy?”

  “What… why?” I breathed, too shocked to yell anymore.

  Evan shrugged and looked at Anni again.

  “Shall I go buy our tickets?” he asked.

  “Uh, sure, but I’ll pay you back! This isn’t really a date.

  You shouldn’t have to pay for me,” Anni said quickly. Evan shook his head.

  “It’s no problem,” he said. “What’s your full name? I have to tell them.”

  “Annika Dixon. Wow, um, thanks!”

  Evan patted her shoulder when he walked by, following Mitch. I was still staring with my mouth agape. What was he playing at? I know we’re not officially dating or anything, but I always assumed Evan would take me to prom, unless I was going with Mitch.

  I came home and threw my book bag angrily onto my bed, then slid into my computer chair and signed onto Facebook.

  I changed my status to some rude comment about girls who like Joan Jett, then went to Mitch’s page to sift through his photos.