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"Here you go," I announced, sliding their respective plates in front of them and placing the syrup between them. "Two orders of Colette's famous pancakes, plus one side of incinerated bacon." I turned to Simon. "This'll ruin all other pancakes for you."
See, I thought to myself. I can be friendly. We can be friends.
Simon grinned. "I hope you're right."
"What are you guys up to tonight?" Grant asked, pouring syrup over his pancakes and bacon. "Wanna come over and barbecue? We can grill up some hamburgers and Simon is going to make his seven-layer chili dip."
Grant believed in barbecuing year round. He would bundle up and happily grill outside in frigid temperatures. Fortunately, the eating was done inside.
"I'll check with Jenny and Sarah," I said, knowing that our plans only included sitting around watching TV. "I might not be able to make it but they probably can."
"Why not?" asked Simon, pausing in the act of cutting into his pancakes and looking up at me. "You're already spending Sunday on your homework so it's not that."
"Um," I paused, trying to think of an excuse. I wasn't used to being questioned about why I couldn't make things. Even though I liked my social life, I still needed time to be alone. Most people seemed to just accept my polite refusal. Except for Sarah and Jenny. And now Simon. While I was determined to be friends with Simon because I didn't want to start avoiding the group because of him, I also didn't know if I could handle a second straight night of him.
"I need to organize my room?" It came out as more of a question than a statement, and I mentally slapped myself on the forehead. Not only for the lame excuse but the way it came out.
Simon smirked. "You have to organize your room," he repeated with a disbelieving look.
"Yes," I replied, grabbing onto my excuse, as pathetic as it was. "I've been slacking and my room is totally disorganized. And...I promised myself that I would clean tonight. And if I don't, I'll keep on procrastinating. So...it's, um...really imperative that I do it tonight," I finished in a rush.
"I can come help you organize," Simon said, with a mischievous smile. "I'm a genius when it comes to organizing. Right, Grant?" He looked over at Grant for his support.
Grant had been watching our exchange with an amused look. "Yup. He's like the Einstein of organizin
g."
I gulped, not sure how to refuse Simon's weird offer of help without seeming churlish, but also knowing there was no way in hell I was spending any time with him in my bedroom. Never mind the fact that the minute he stepped into my room, it would become pretty apparent that no organizing was needed. I kept my room spic and span, a habit from my father's OCD tendencies.
"On the other hand, it probably won't take too long," I said with a forced laugh, knowing this conversation was ridiculous. Friends, I thought to myself. I can do this. "What time do you want us over? I can probably make it."
"How about six?" Grant asked.
I ignored Grant's faint amusement at my sudden change of heart and said, "Sure, sure. I'll let the girls know. I've gotta get back to my other tables."
I rushed off without looking at Simon, not wanting to feel any more idiotic than I already did. I mentally berated myself as I checked on my tables and greeted two new groups of customers. Organizing my room? I groaned internally. Really? That's the best I could come up with?
I watched Grant and Simon's table from the corner of my eye, refilling their coffee cups when needed but rushing off before they could say more than thanks. When I saw them finishing up, I stopped by again and dropped their check off. "Here you go."
Grant and Simon both grabbed the bill, each pulling in their respective direction. Grant finally was able to finagle the bill from Simon. "You paid for the beers yesterday, man."
"I'll go get your change," I told Grant, as he fumbled in his wallet and laid some bills on top of the table. "You don't have to take it to the register since Colette's not here this morning."
Colette usually manned the register at the counter, and also sometimes seated customers when the servers were too busy, but she was absent this morning due to a doctor's appointment.
"Nah, I'm good. I gotta give my waitress a big tip," Grant said, smiling.
I laughed. "I'm sure she appreciates it." I glanced at Simon and then quickly looked back at Grant. "I'll see you guys later. I'll try and whip up some dessert for tonight." I worked until two in the afternoon so that gave me plenty of time before the barbecue.
"Garbage cookies?" Simon asked, smiling. His face was too damn gorgeous when he smiled.
"No," I said, with a light laugh. "I don't have all the ingredients for it." Which was a lie, because the point of garbage cookies was to put in anything you had. For some reason, the insistence of the garbage cookies felt a little too personal, like Simon already had inside jokes with me. "I'll think of something."
Fortunately, a customer at another table raised her hand to get my attention and I nodded at the customer, letting her know I'd be right over. "Well, see you later."
With that, I rushed off to see what the customer needed, not looking in Simon's direction.
As I put the order in for extra toast that the customer requested, I saw Grant and Simon leave with a wave and I waved back. I noticed that they stood outside the cafe after they left, since the front was all windows and they seemed to be discussing something. Grant laughed and patted Simon on the back, and Simon glanced inside, looking at me with an intensity that made my insides tighten. I waved again weakly, not knowing what else to do and then turned away, grabbing a coffee pot like it was a lifesaver.
