Chapter 8: IV. Persistence-3

Oh, there went that plan. "Your first customer. Grab the pot and go and take the order," Sally encouraged, directing me towards the tables. When I registered who had walked in and taken a seat at one of the empty tables, I frowned. What was Zoey doing here? Cece gave me the impression that they were all going to the beach after school. Nonetheless, I walked over with the coffee pot, turned over one of the cups on her table, and filled it. Zoey was very intimidatingly beautiful. She gave off the impression that she knew she was attractive, as well. Her blonde hair was perfectly highlighted, makeup was effortlessly applied to her well-proportioned face, and she had changed into clothes that looked designer. "Can I get you anything?" I asked politely. Zoey looked at me grimly, as though she was in pain. It was … weird. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch," she apologised forcefully. "You're welcome to come to my party on Friday night." She didn't sound sincere at all. I dropped down into the seat opposite her. "Did Shea put you up to this, Zoey?" I asked quietly. Her blue eyes narrowed. "You don't get it, do you?" she snapped. "You've won. Claim your prize. He's yours for the taking!" she exclaimed. No, I didn't get it. Zoey did not seem like the person to just do as she was told. So why would she do what Shea told her to do? And why would she put up with Shea treating her like crap? I needed to open my mouth. "Why do you let Shea treat you like this, Zoey? Don't you think you deserve better?" Zoey laughed. "Don't pass judgement over something you clearly know nothing about," she retorted. "Shea and I were never serious, that doesn't mean I don't get to be pissed when he finds his –" She stopped herself and rethought her sentence. "Finds his what?" I pressed. Zoey glared at me. "Come to the party or don't, I don't care. But you're stupid if you deny your feelings for Shea. Everyone knows already." She hurriedly pulled some cash out of her wallet and left it on the table next to her untouched coffee. As soon as Zoey had left the diner, Sally flitted over and collected the bill she had left behind. "Eighty per cent tip. Well done, Sara," she commented cheerfully. "Nice girl, that Zoey. Good family." Well, I wouldn't exactly label Zoey nice, but she had certainly given me food for thought. Had I misunderstood the situation? I mean, it was 2019, after all. Girls could enjoy casual relationships, too. Maybe I had been a bit quick to judge. Maybe the only issue was Zoey was jealous of me. Maybe, in his own weirdly worded way, Shea was only trying to do the right thing. I found my thoughts drifting to Shea throughout my shift. There were still so many question marks there. I really didn't know him that well, after all. But I couldn't dismiss him altogether based on my own ill-informed presumptions. He deserved a chance. The girly, giddy, pathetic part of me was suddenly ecstatic that I had given in. When I took a quick bathroom break, I took my phone in with me. I put the seat down on the toilet and sat on top of it, opening my Facebook app and clicking on my conversation with Shea from the previous night. I finish at 7, I typed. Will you meet me at the diner then? Almost instantly his reply popped up on my screen. I rolled my eyes. It's a date ;) I was a mixture of nerves and excitement as the minutes of my shift ticked away. The work wasn't hard, and it was nice getting to know my customers. Almost all of them recognised me as Amanda Bryant's daughter. I didn't ask anyone again if they knew my dad. I realised that my mom was bound to come into the diner and meet these people around town and I didn't want it getting back to her that I was asking questions about him. Sally paid me for my shift at seven and then gave me my share of tips. "Now, I did tell you I wouldn't have many hours," she started seriously. For a moment I thought she was firing me. "But you seem very popular with my customers. They haven't tipped this well in a long time!" she remarked. "How about we start with six hours a week, two after school shifts? Six seventy-five an hour plus your tips?" she proposed. Hours were hours. "Yes, thanks so much, Sally. I'm so grateful for you giving me a chance." I accepted my pay and left the diner, telling Sally that I would see her after school on Thursday. No sooner had I crossed the threshold, I noticed Shea leaning against my Jeep. I nearly coughed up my tongue. He had changed after school. Perhaps a better word to use would be undressed after school. He stood there only in a pair of board shorts. His large, toned arms were folded across his taut chest, giving me full view of his sculpted, tanned abs. He didn't look real. Only men on the covers of my mom's romance novels looked like him. I felt my cheeks blushing, much to my humiliation. And to make things worse, he seemed to be enjoying my reaction. When I regained a little composure I managed to snipe, "You know, steroids are bad for your health. The make things … small." Why did I say that? It only made me feel more embarrassed. Shea burst out laughing. "Well, lucky for me hard work and a good metabolism keeps me in shape. As to the other issue, well, you can check to see if everything's alright, if you want."