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3
Raven
After another long day of job hunting, the bell sings above my head and I find myself in the same booth at the diner, nestled against smudged windows with a view of Main Street. One of the waitresses moves a mop around the checkered tile floor. The other patrons sit on stools at the wrap-around counter nursing coffee and reading newspapers.
My attention should have been on the waitress approaching me but instead the big trucks rumbling outside in the parking lot with their radios belting out music flooded my senses. This place holds so many memories of mine: my first date, my first kiss, and my first break-up. Funny enough, all with the same boy.
“Come back down to earth, darlin’,” the waitress says, snapping her fingers and batting her eyelashes. “You okay?”
I shake my head. “Where is everybody? This place used to be packed before I left.” The smacking of her gum makes my skin crawl.
“It’ll pick up soon. Most aren’t off work yet. So, what can I getcha?”
My eyes wander over the menu like I haven’t already seen it a million times. “Just a coffee and a slice of apple pie.”
The red and white help wanted sign catches my attention. Did I want to work at a diner? I can’t afford to be picky. No such luck finding anyone interested today either. All the time I spent with Tim is coming back to haunt me. I still love him though, stupid right? After ten years of being together, it is hard to just turn it off.
The server brings me a cup of coffee and I stir in the sugar. The future is so uncertain, so bleak, and yet here in the diner's warmth, with the smell of freshly baked pie wafting in from the kitchen, I can find a bit of peace. For a moment, I believe everything is going to be okay. Things will work out, but I must be patient. Things don’t get fixed overnight.
Just as I am about to take a sip of the hot coffee, a familiar voice calls out entering the diner, making me tip it just enough to where it spills on me. “Ow, fuck!”
His eyes drink me in causing blush on my cheeks. They meet briefly, a slight smirk on his part, before I whip my attention back to my own table. Why did I keep doing embarrassing things when this guy is around?
His friend laughs at me, and he swats at him, as they take the booth next to mine. They can sit anywhere else. Why right next to me? Ugh! I dart my eyes around, trying hard not to look in his direction. I take another sip of my coffee, not spilling it this time, and focus on everything going on outside. The parking lot becomes busy, trucks pulling in, and the bell rings over and over until almost all the booths are full.
The waitress brings my apple pie, and I thank her, getting the fork ready for my first bite. I tend to savor it, because let’s face it, the people in Dallas didn’t know how to make a real apple pie. The diner must have some special recipe to make it decadent, because theirs is still the best I’ve ever had.
They begin talking again, this time not as loud as the last, but still loud enough for me to hear sitting so close. So, his name is Adonis. Unique. My eyes focus back on my pie as the waitress walks over to their table.
"What can I get you guys?" the waitress asks, and when he says apple pie, she looks over at me. "We’re out."
My body slumps, not wanting to bring any extra attention to myself right now.
“I guess we’ll take the cherry,” Adonis says, some gruff in his voice.
This can’t be the first time they have run out of apple pie. Why is it such a big deal? They have plenty of flavors.
His friend points out the pie on my plate. “Looks like the girl got the last slice, my friend.”
Did he seriously have to call me out? The flush in my cheeks become evident and the surprise on his face beckons me. Well, no more hiding. He is going to know who I am now.
"You ate the last slice of apple pie?" he exclaims, pointing at the nearly empty plate in front of me.
He’s not going to scorn me for ordering it. If he wanted it, he should have gotten here earlier. Plain and simple. "First come, first serve. I was here first."
Adonis bites his lip and our eyes are dead locked. "I come here three times a week for their apple pie and you have been in town for what, at most a week? Can't you find somewhere else to eat?"
I drop the fork onto the plate, the tink sound echoing across the diner. Adonis didn’t know me, because if he did, he wouldn’t have crossed that line. My bitchy side is about to make an appearance. "Excuse me? Who made you the fucking warden? I'm pretty sure my money is just as good as yours here."
In Dallas, there are plenty of assholes and even then I didn’t back down. It looks like Adonis needs to be put in his place and I am happy to be the one to do it.
"I'm guessing you’re the town's pretentious prick, huh? Go around talking to people like you own the damn town. Bring your ego down a bit. Fuck."
He isn’t going to talk to me like that. Not now. Not ever.
4
Adonis
