“Come on, hurry.” I whisper to myself.
I’m tapping my fingers on the steering wheel when a knock on my passenger side window scares the ever loving shit out of me. Rhett’s standing on the other side of the glass, signaling for me to roll my window down. I fumble with the button, hitting my side before his.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a stupid cute grin on his face.
Dressed in his football gear, he’s holding his helmet in one hand, and his shoulder pads in the other. All that’s covering his chest is a thin cut-off T-shirt. I thought he was hot in his regular clothes, but he’s even better in his uniform.
He clears his throat, and right away I realize he caught me checking him out. I look away as fast as I can, but he just laughs. “Like what you see?”
“Eh, it’s okay.”
“Wait, I want you to have the full experience. Maybe that’ll change your mind.”
Before I can tell him I was only kidding, he spins in a circle on his toes like the most ungraceful ballerina I’ve ever seen. He looks absolutely ridiculous, and I can’t stop laughing at him. “Rhett, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“There, that’s better,” he says, as he bends down to rest his arms on the edge of the opened window. “You’re even prettier when you smile. But your car doesn’t sound so good.”
“It’s going in the shop tonight.” My Ford Focus isn’t a total piece of shit, but it’s been anything but reliable lately. I guess that’s what happens when you have friends fix it for you who don’t really know what they’re doing. They fix one problem and create a new one.
“Do you need a ride to school tomorrow?”
“Becca’s picking me up.”
“What about a ride home from school? I can take you. Tomorrow’s game day, so I usually go home for an hour or two after school. Clear my head before the game.”
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.