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Chapter Ten
TRISTAN
Was I thrilled to show up on my first day at Shelton’s looking like I got jumped on the way in? Not particularly, but so far no one has made a big deal about the red mark around my eye. I’ve gotten a few looks, but it’s impossible to tell if they’re because of new bruises or old crimes. At least the worst of my injuries aren’t visible beneath my uniform shirt.
It’s strange to think this is my first real job, but I have a feeling I’m about to encounter a lot offirststhat will come later for me than most people. In high school, sports and clubs took up all my time, so as long as I fulfilled my duty as star athlete (and passable student), my parents covered my expenses. Technically, I worked while I was at SCI Burlington, but this feels completely different. So yes, for all intents and purposes, Stacie is my first boss and Shelton’s is my first place of employment not owned by the state.
“Good evening. I’m Mandie, and this is Tristan. He’s shadowing me today. Have you decided on drinks or an appetizer?”
The young couple smiles and places their order, just like all the other tables before them. Two hours in, and no drama yet. That has to count as a win, right?
I follow Mandie to the ordering station where she enters the request for a dumpling sampler into the touchscreen like it’s some nuclear secret.
“You have to be careful because the ‘one’ button sticks and you don’t want to end up with eleven. Or a hundred and eleven,” she adds with a laugh.
I smile back. “Got it. So the juice will come from the kitchen, but the beer will come from—”
“Oh my gosh. Tristan?”
My stomach drops at the familiar voice, and I glance behind me to find… Candace?
The guy beside her isn’t Trey, though, so I guess that fairytale romance didn’t work out.
“Hey, Candace. How are you? Hi, I’m Tristan,” I say to the dude across from her.
He extends his hand. “Joe.”
I shake it and focus back on my ex.
“When did you get out?” she asks.
I swallow my nerves, cringing inwardly at the recurring question. Maybe I should start wearing a sign with all the pertinent data. A newsletter?
Even though I know it’s in my head, it feels like the entire restaurant has frozen in anticipation of my response. Embarrassment washes over me as I shove my hands in my back pockets.
“Um, just a few days ago, actually.”
“You must be glad to be home.”
She looks sincere about her also-common response, so I try to return some semblance of “gladness” for her benefit.
“Yeah. You have a kid now?” I ask, motioning toward the toddler in the highchair beside her.
She grins. “Elise. She’ll be two in May.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
“We need to get going,” Mandie whispers behind me.
I give Candace an apologetic look. “Sorry. I should get back to work.”
“Of course. Good luck with everything!”
I nod back and turn to follow Mandie.
“My ex,” Candace says in a low voice. “He killed someone. Crazy, right?”
“Damn,” the man says.
