Bite Me 8

Although you may be reading this a little after spooky season, I hope you appreciate the ride!

XOXO SkylerLuv

*-*-*

On rainy days like today, I like to stare out the window and imagine myself far away from here.

The drops are muffled against the restaurant's windows, causing a ribbon of them to fall at a leisurely pace. The gray clouds slowly move across the sky, covering any signs of the sun. The front parking lot is mostly vacant, with a whopping two cars on a Tuesday afternoon. It's only a matter of time before the evening rush starts, but for now, I'll enjoy the view.

Usually, I imagine myself buying a one-way ticket to a sunny place. Walking on the beach, getting a tan, having some fun. Somewhere that never has cloudy skies or unrelenting rain. Where the winters don't get cold and the evenings go on forever. Where my dumbass of an ex can't find me and hound me down for an explanation. As if him sending pictures of his penis to random girls on social media isn't reason enough.

Ugh.

An old singer croons through the speakers faintly in the background. My pen glides along an old notepad, twirling and swirling random doodles. A star here, a heart there, a daisy in the corner. Berry drops some water on the grill, creating a cloud of vapor and sizzle. Cleaning who knows what since the only two people in this joint are having coffee. Looking out the window again, I notice the sky won't clear up anytime soon, maybe just a few more daydreams...

The front door swings open, making the bell ring back and forth to alert us.

With a heavy sigh, the pen goes into the pocket of my apron and the notepad follows. Although I want to greet this customer with a smile, I simply can't. What is there to smile about nowadays? I move out of the kitchen and into the main dining room.

A petite girl sits at the end of the counter, shaking the drops of rain from her long, black hair. All she's wearing is a thin, dark hoodie with tight jeans and worn-out boots. She grabs some napkins to dab her face, poor thing. She shifts around until the red plastic covering on the chair starts to squeak.

"What can I get ya?" I pull out my notepad, just for show. I can almost always remember orders for a table of four and under without writing anything down.

What with the same menu for the last 75 years, it is rare that I'm truly challenged.

"Coffee, black." She throws some quarters on the table, still trying to dry her face off.

"A please would be nice," I mumble under my breath but turn back to the coffee maker.

"And service with a smile would be better." She snips back.

I bite my bottom lip to stop whatever retort I plan on dishing out. I don't get paid enough to care what she actually thinks. And based on the money she threw on the table, I'm not expecting a big tip. My mind is on autopilot as I grab the coffee cup, saucer, and sugar. I place it in front of her and then return with the coffee pot.

"Here you are," My lips curve into a sarcastic smile but the next part of my sentence dies on my lips as she looks up at me.

Her eyes are a startling dark gray that complements the dark skies behind her. Her look alone is enough to silence all of my thoughts at once and I have no idea why. Her face is small and pointy. Her button nose is red, probably from the cold. Her cheeks are rosy but her bottom lip is quivering a little. That's when I notice a cut on her upper lip.

"What?" She snaps me back to reality.

"Sorry," I try not to show how flustered I feel by pouring her coffee as swiftly as possible. "Here." I hand her some thicker napkins.

In all honesty, I want to keep staring at her. Just sit right across from her and gaze into her peculiar eyes. I've never seen anything like them around here. They look misplaced on her face. Too light and too dark at the same time. It's very hard to describe and even more unnerving than I initially thought.

I've seen all walks of life come into this diner. Those that have nothing but a generous heart, those that are helplessly in love with others that don't even know their names, and then those that have enough wealth to spare but can only think about themselves. Of course, there are more in between but I'm trying to figure out where this girl fits.

One of the other patrons comes up to the counter and I help him close out his bill.

"See you next week, Avery." Dan waves with his hat.

"See you." I wave.

"Can I get some more coffee?" The girl holds up the empty cup.

Normally, I would remind the person ordering that there are no complimentary refills in this cheap-ass diner but I want another chance to look at her. I can consider that my tip. Plus, Berry is still cleaning in the back, so it's not like he'll know.

With the hot pot in hand, I avoid meeting her eyes as I pour her another cup. Once I do finish, I allow myself a small glimpse and watch as she brings the rim of the cup to her lips. With great reluctance, I turn away to put the coffee back.

I want to talk to her. Ask her why she's here. She's the most interesting person that has walked in since that rich guy came with a whole entourage of people last month. That was the highest bill I've seen since working here. Even then, I wasn't as engulfed in serving him as I am with her.

"What?" She asks again, this time less patient.

I realize I'm staring again and the blood rushes to my face.

Geez, I'm so out of it.

I walk over to her end of the bar until I'm standing in front of her. It's a hard thing to achieve when I know that she's watching my every move. I almost fear I'll forget to know how to walk in her presence. It's even harder not to feel self-conscious about the littlest things when I know she's not even blinking. I can't stop wondering how my pony tail has probably deflated and I look haggard after working half my shift.

"Can I get you anything else?" I clear my throat when I realize how faint I sound.

She shakes her head but continues to stare.

My eyes shift away from her gaze, afraid of the unknown power it seems to hold over me. Her cut looks like it has barely had enough time to heal, it's still bleeding a little. My hand comes down on one of the napkins on the counter. I take it within my fingers and I reach over, in what I assume, an attempt to wipe the blood away from her lip. I'm still not fully sure why.

Her hand wraps around my wrist at lightning speed and she gives me a bewildered look. We both seem surprised by each other's reaction.

"Can I help you?" Her gray eyes bore into the back of my skull.

"You're," I lick my lips and try to sound sure of my ridiculous action. "Bleeding."

Her brows furrow and she doesn't let go until she knows I will keep my hands to myself.

"Avery, you gonna get that?" Berry yells from the kitchen.

That's when I notice the phone ringing. My cheeks are bright red by the time I reach the other side of the counter to answer the phone.

What in the world was that?

It's Kinsley, she's going to be a few hours late to her shift because of something that happened with her babysitter. Not surprising coming from her, just unfortunate that she had to call when I wanted to be talking to someone else. It's honestly hard to keep up when half my brain isn't even functioning at the moment. We're on the call for much longer than needed but when I finally hang up, my eyes go back to the now empty spot on the counter. The mug is empty and there is a pile of napkins right next to it. I count the quarters and keep the dollar tip in my back pocket.

*-*-*

"I can't stay to cover anymore, Kinsley." I turn to my fellow coworker, two weeks later.

She fluffs her blond hair and kisses the reflection in the mirror. For a 40-something-year-old, she can absolutely still get it. Her boobs are huge and her ass is nice and round but for some reason, she only has eyes for some real losers. Any man willing to pay her attention for more than a few seconds and is willing to pay for a beer, is good enough to get a date with her. I've talked about setting her bars much higher but she claims to be the one who likes to have multiple options available at once.

"Aww, don't be a party pooper, Avery." Her glossy pink lips always manage to get more tips in one shift than I can pull in two days but that is okay with me. I wouldn't do half the stuff she does to get the male clientele more than ready to spend over their initial budget.

"I'm starting my night classes next week and I have to be out of here by five if I want to have enough time to eat." I'm pulling out my bag from the locker in the back while she continues to mess with her outfit.

"That's great, sweetheart!" She claps and watches how many times her boobs bounce in her reflection.

She will most definitely get more tips than I will this week.

I chuckle and shake my head.

"Don't worry about me! I'll make sure to get here on time and not bug you as much." Her smile is genuine but we both know it is only a matter of time before she calls in late again. If her tips weren't so good and she didn't have so many regulars, I'm sure Millie would have given her the boot a while ago. That and the fact that she has a son to take care of.

"I'm serious, Kin. I can't stay even if I wanted to." My tone is serious.

"Okay, okay." She pops gum into her mouth and gives me a hug goodbye. "Good luck with your classes."

"That's next week." I hug her back.

"Right. Okay then." She pats me on the back and that is my cue to leave.

*-*-*

My mind is elsewhere when I open the door to the diner a few weeks later.

I know it is elsewhere because when I push the front door open, I shove a little harder than intended and almost fall through as someone opens the door from the other side. A small, firm hand wraps around my arm and forces me up so I avoid stumbling forward.

"Oof-" I stand back and rub my arm as the person pulls their hand away. That hurt a little.

"Sorry, didn't want you to fall." Gray eyes stare at me in concern. "Avery," She nods in my direction and walks out the door before I can get my life together.

For a moment we were face to face. Is she a little shorter than me? I didn't have enough time to gauge her true height.

And just like that she's gone again.

My body twists to see her walk away without a second glance. I stand there, staring like an idiot at the closed door. I can't see where she's going because there is a promotional flyer on the only window on the door.

"Avery, you coming in?" Kinsley hits the bell on the counter to get my attention.

"Who was that?" I walk backwards toward a chair. I missed her. She was here. It's been almost a month. If it wasn't for the one quarter I kept from her tip, I would have thought she was a figment of my imagination.

"No clue," Kinsley wipes down the counter, where Gray Eyes probably sat. "Just grabbed a coffee and left."

And I totally missed her.

That really sucks! I've been waiting for weeks to see if she would ever return. But maybe that means she'll probably be back again. If she was just passing by to a further destination she wouldn't come back here, would she? She would be on her way to wherever she was going. Damn, were her eyes as breathtaking as last time? My memory didn't do her justice. She is by far a 10 out of 10 when it comes to attractiveness.

There is also something more to her. Something beyond being the quiet, mysterious girl. It's like her thoughts are all jumbled around her and I want so desperately to understand. Or maybe it is my thoughts that are glaringly fractured. Had I had more time, I would have stared into her eyes and tried to figure it out. Oh lord, I'm a fool with a crush.

"Did you see the bruise on her cheek?" Kinsley whispers to add suspense to her gossip. "That girl is trouble."

I frown and think back. Was it a bruise? I thought it was a shadow. I barely had enough time to look at her before she rushed out. Why couldn't I be smooth and say something other than...What did I even say?

Trouble may be the best word to describe my current situation.

*-*-*

The professor turns on the lights in the room and removes the projector, ending the class for the night.

My eyes are burning from the lack of sleep. For the first time since I started school, I start to regret enrolling into night classes in the first place. What is an associate's degree good for now anyways? It's not like I'm going to open my own business. All these sleepless weeks of studying, and working doubles at the diner to pay for these classes, are starting to take a toll on me. I'm constantly questioning choices and fearing that I'm not on the right path.

The class isn't as full as it would be during the day and that's one of the reasons I chose it. Having a smaller lecture room where the professor is not distracted by the number of faces in his class should be a bonus. But he doesn't seem to care to know us by first name, let alone anything personal. This is probably just another paycheck to him. He doesn't even make the classes enjoyable. It is all by the book, no interpretations, and absolutely no creativity.

Everyone walks out, one by one. The halls are clear too. Not a lot of nightlife after the street lights come on.

Even if this is a community college and it is a commuter school, I have to admit that the classes are hard. I thought three classes would be manageable but I had to drop one after the first week and now I'm down to two. Maybe I should drop one more. It would give me more time to focus only on one and study without burning the midnight oil to grasp foreign concepts.

"Are you okay?" A girl from my last class comes to stand next to me at the bus stop.

"Hi," I shake her outstretched hand. "I'm Avery. Just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment." Being honest is all I have left at this point. I'm officially burnt out.

"Yeah, I noticed you didn't get on your usual bus." She points to the back of the bus I was supposed to get on.

"Great." My heart drops at the thought of spending another thirty minutes waiting for the next one. It's already so late out. My mom would have a heart attack if she knew the hours I was on public transportation. "Wait, how did you know that was my bus?"

"You stick to a pretty strict routine. Come into class ten minutes early, take a break in the library, and catch the 425 to wherever you go. No staying after, no joining any study groups, and definitely not making any friends." She smirks. "I'm Jacky, by the way."

Jacky is cute, probably on the younger side of our class age spectrum, but harmless. Her brown hair and light brown eyes look darker at night. Her smile is warm and friendly though. She must have been class president or something in high school. She gives off that extrovert vibe.

"Should I be concerned that you're stalking me?" My hands instinctively tug on my backpack straps.

"Not stalking, just being perceptive." She pulls out her car keys. "Would you like a ride home?"

"So that you can stalk me home after class now?"

"Or, wait for the bus. Whatever you want." She points at the parking garage across the street. "That's my blue Toyota if you change your mind." She walks away. So, maybe not class president. She much cooler.

I rub my hands together to ward off some of the cold but my eyes don't stray from Jacky.

Ugh, fine. My cold finger tips win.

I'm rapping on her passenger door in a matter of seconds. She unlocks the door and moves her bag to the back seat.

"Please don't turn out to be a serial killer." I put my bag on my lap and turn to put my seatbelt on.

"I promise." She crosses her heart.

The drive to my place is more pleasant than expected. Jacky is laid back and chill when we talk. I thought she would ramble more but she seems fine when she's not talking and we sit in silence. The music plays in the background. I can tell she is just one of those people that can fit into any friend group. Talking just enough or knowing when to be silent until the right moment comes. It is a knack that I've lacked in the past so I usually stay silent.

"So, what had you so worried at the bus stop earlier?" She pulls into the front of my apartment complex after I give her directions.

Even if she knows where I live, she doesn't know the exact apartment number. That is somewhat safe, I tell myself.

"I don't know how old you are but taking classes at my age and working full time is not as easy as it sounds." I'm getting tired. The heat from her car vents is a nice feeling after being out in the cold. "I don't feel that same energy I did in my early twenties.

"That doesn't sound easy at all." She turns to look at me.

"I should have known I couldn't do it." My shoulders sag. "I do this thing where I run with an idea and don't fret too much about the details." Hence, renting a one-bedroom apartment to get out of my parent's place, only to be left working at a shitty diner with enough left-over income for ramen. It is one of my many faults.

It's not like my parents were rushing me out the door after high school but eventually I turned 26 and living with them was starting to run its course. I needed out and needed it fast. And yet, I would kill for one of my mom's home cooked meals tonight. Having my freedom hasn't seemed worth it in a long time. I keep thinking that maybe I should go back. But that would just mean that I failed at the game of life.

How pathetic is that?

"Hey," Jacky reaches over to pat my hand. "You can do it. You just need some help." She digs into her front pocket and pulls out her phone. "We have a study group every Tuesday before class to go over concepts from the week before. I didn't think it would make a difference at first but I was wrong." She gives me her phone to input my number. "I know you take your lunch break at that time but a lot of us eat too and we still manage to make the most out of it."

Studying before class sounds like a less fun way to spend my time but at this point, I'm willing to take all the help I can get. It is as if the universe is throwing me a bone for the past few weeks I've had to endure.

"Thank you, Jacky. For everything." I open the car door and turn back to look at her. "This is exactly what I needed to hear tonight."

*-*-*

I'm wiping down a table when the little bell over the front door goes off.

"Be right with you!" The person goes to the counter and I put the five-dollar tip in my back pocket. This will make for a nice 7/11 meal tonight. I do a small dance in my head for the little win.

I skid to a stop when I see Gray Eyes at the counter. I've stopped expecting her to come in. It's been three weeks and there has been no sign of her. Not that there would be anyone even remotely as aware of her as I am. Except maybe Kinsley but only because I asked if she'd seen her more than twice now, which is rare. She pretends not to think anything of it but her eyes narrow on me whenever I inquire about Gray Eyes. She knows what it means to be on the lookout for a customer.

I walk behind her seat and make my way to the other side of the counter.

She has her head in her hands and I notice some cuts on her knuckles. She's breathing silently but her eyes are closed. I don't take the opportunity for granted and stare at her for as long as I can. She's wearing a gray tracksuit and her hair is falling in waves around her shoulders. I wish I could see her eyes.

"Black coffee." She pulls out few dollars this time and throws them on the counter.

I jump at the sound of her voice but rush to fulfill her order. As long as she keeps her eyes closed, I can continue staring at her.

With as much stealth as I can muster in her presence, I place the saucer and mug in front of her. My hands are slightly shaking as I pour the coffee in her cup. I know it's from the nerves of being so close to her. She's actually here. And I'm getting my fill of stares, no rudeness to deal with.