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Ialways vow to never drink again when I wake the next morning, never knowing if I’m hungry, or sick with a hangover. One thing I do know is that I need painkillers to stop my head from feeling like it’s splitting open, and lots of water, seeing as my mouth is as dry as the desert.
I vaguely remember being brought home by Tal, the biker, because Zara hooked up with one of the guys at the club and I lost my ride. If I’m pushing through the hangover fog and remembering right, Tal offered for me to stay in his room, but I wasn’t going to sleep with one of them on the first meeting. It took more bravery than I had just to venture into the club in the first place.
Though he’s hot, and I could totally imagine myself slipping under the sheets with him, I stayed resolute and kept my legs closed.
“How nice of you to join us.”
My father, Edward Tucker, is seated at the kitchen table, and I curse myself for forgetting it’s Saturday. Smelling the soup simmering on the stove, my stomach rolls. My mom, Janine, is buttering slices of crusty bread, and wordlessly reaches for a third bowl.
Pouring myself a glass of water, I take small sips and sit opposite of my dad, who’s not always a jerk. As long as I fall in line with what he wants, he’s pretty cool. However, I tend to stray from that line quite often, and he isn’t afraid to voice his disapproval.
“Do you plan to drink the entire summer away?” he huffs, setting down his newspaper.
“It’s calledfun, Dad. This is what everyone does when they’re home from college.”
Studying for my business degree, I do the work and put in the effort. I work hard, and I plan to have fun when and where I can. I have one year left of school, and then I’ll be heading into the big wide world, slogging my guts out for a job I’ll probably hate just to please him.
“I worked two jobs when I was your age. I didn’t have parents who paid for my college tuition, and I still gave them the respect they deserved. Life isn’t all about having a good time, Holly. You should know that by now.”
I’ve heard this speech every summer since I was sixteen:“You can’t keep your grades up if you don’t study every chance you get. You won’t get into college if you don’t put in the extra effort.”
My headache doesn’t seem so bad now. At least it drowns out his disappointment and too high expectations for me.
Pushing up from the table, I take my water and head for the stairs. I can’t face eating, and I need more sleep.
The hope is that when I wake up, he’ll be out, and I can slip away without being interrogated as to where I’m going, who I’ll be with, and when I’ll be home. I’m twenty-one, and still have to answer to him like I’m fifteen. I have respect for him as my father. I appreciate him paying for college, and giving me a chance to make something of myself. But, for once, I’d just like to make my own decisions without him forcing his expectations onto me.
“Hank’s hiring. You’re not spending the summer living off of your mother and I again. You go talk to him or you’re out. He’s expecting you.”
Freezing in the doorway, I turn to see him looking deadly serious, while Mom concentrates real hard on the soup.No surprise there. I sigh, knowing where she stands on the matter. Nevertheless, I should’ve seen this coming. I can only push him so far, and by the sounds of his threat, I’ve pushed him far enough.
* * *
I’ve been coming to Hank’s diner all my life. When I was little, my parents would bring me here for breakfast every Saturday morning, and for ice cream after every gymnastics meet. Walking inside, I head for the counter where Hank himself is flipping through a wad of cash, tucking various bills into the register.
Plastering on my brightest smile, I introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Holly Tucker. My father, Edward Tucker, said you were expecting me?”
I can’t afford to be kicked out, so I keep my voice chirpy. I need this job, something I didn’t think I’d be needing when I woke up today.
“I know who you are, Holly. I need a new waitress. Your dad said you’ll be more than capable of handling the job.”
I frown. “What does it entail exactly?”
“It’s a waitressing job,” he snorts, like I’m stupid. But I bite my tongue to keep from replying with some snarky comment. Like I said, I need this job. “You’ll have to take orders, and sometimes deal with grouchy customers without losing your cool. Oh, and there’ll be cleaning. You’ll be on your feet most of the day, and it’s tiring.”
I’m sure I can handle it. I have the incentive of wanting to keep a roof over my head.
“Can you handle it?”
“Sure. When do I start?” I ask with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.
“Now. You can shadow me today and find your way while it’s not too busy.”
The bell over the door rings, and I look over my shoulder to see a group of Lost Souls walk in, taking up the large table in the middle of the diner.
“They look dangerous, but they never cause trouble here. Don’t be afraid of them.”
I nearly burst out laughing. I was around them last night, and not once did I feel afraid of them. Actually, I quite enjoyed myself.
