I don’t know his name, but I’m glad he’s trying to hurry this torture session along. The faster I am done with this waste of space group, the better it is for my sanity.
“Owen, man, just chill. The girls wanted to come grab a bite,” Wes retorts back. Their eyes connect, communicating something to each other without words.
Owen, so that’s his name. I take him in, waiting for the rest of the table to make up their minds, so I can take their orders. I think they must put something in the water in this town because all the men here look like they model. Owen appears to be half a head taller than Wes, and while I can’t take in his entire appearance, I can tell he has some of the most gorgeous soft brown eyes. Their lightness is made more prominent by the contrast of his wavy dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin, both of which give him a fresh from the beach look.
I shake my head, refocusing on taking their order and hurrying away from this damn table. These guys set my hormones on fire, and these girls set my anger on DEFCON 2, neither of which I can afford. So, I repeat my question. “Are you all ready to order?”
“Let me get the Mahi tuna salad with no dressing and a side of truffle fries,” the blonde says.
Sam looks at her like she has sprouted a third eye.
“Seriously, Summer, are you trying to lose weight or get fat? You already have that lard ass and far too big tits to worry about. You know cheerleading started, and our uniforms are unforgiving this year.”
Summer looks well chastised and begins to turn about eight shades of red, making the freckles that line her nose more pronounced. I roll my eyes. Summer is far from anything called fat, and even if she was, so the fuck what?
I hate these types of girls. They are worse than diet culture, creating body image issues and eating disorders. I’m getting ready to say something, but I remember I have no dog in this fight.
Summer mumbles, “You’re right,” and looks at me. “Um, nix the fries and instead of the Mahi tuna, let me just get wild mixed greens with no dressing, cheese, or avocado.”
Sam smiles triumphantly as she and the rest of her group order the exact thing.
Thank fuck, I don’t care about shit like this.Thick thighs save lives.There’s watching what you eat to ensure your meals are balanced, and then there’s whatever the fuck these idiots are doing. I jot down the rest of their orders and get as far away from them as I can possibly get.
“Oh, I see you got the Elites’ table,” Lola says when I walk into the kitchen to pick up their order.
I sigh. “Yup.”
Biting the corner of her lip as she scrunches her nose, making her eyes squint, she warns, “Well, just make sure you don’t fuck anything up. The guys aren’t too bad, but those girls are like hell on earth if you mess their orders up. The girl who used to have your position messed up the one with the black hair’s order–”
I interrupt her, “Sam?”
She nods before continuing, “Yup, her. She pitched a fit because her burger came on a bun. She got Ana fired, and her whole family was blacklisted from being able to work here or in all surrounding towns. The poor girl’s family had to move across the country.”
Of course she did because that bitch is vindictive. I needed another word for her because I think she far surpasses bitch behavior.
“Seriously? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I had my own run-in with them today, and it seems pretty on par with their attitudes.”
Lola looks like she wants to ask me more about it, but she gets called away.
While waiting for their food to finish, I check on my other tables, but my eyes keep tracking back to their table.
Wes is quiet but brooding as Sam feels him up like she’s trying to become his second skin, rubbing her body against his and petting him like he’s a dog. Lev, Wy, and Owen look like they want to be anywhere but at the table with these girls.
If I cared enough, I might make a mental note. Instead, I hand the check to one of my last tables for the night and then head to the back to pick up ‘The Elites’’food.
I’m almost to the kitchen when Mary stops me. “I’ve made changes to your schedule. I don’t want you working this late during the school year.” The corners of her soft, tawny-brown eyes crinkle in concern as she assesses me. She doesn’t know the full extent of my living situation, but she knows I’m always working and have my siblings when I’m not.
I nod, appreciating her willingness to accommodate me, and glad I didn’t have to ask, because I wouldn’t. I need this job too much to complain.
Reaching for my hand and squeezing, she adds, “Don’t forget to take some of the pie home for the kids. You know how much those boys love my apple crumble pie.”
“Thank you, Mary,” I reply, smiling, so grateful for her kindness, before walking to the kitchen to pick food for the Elites.
I mumble over and over under my breath, “Let me not stab anyone in the eye or smack a bitch with my tray,” as I make my way out to the dining room.
As I approach, I slap my customer-service smile back on, and place their orders in front of them. After, I say, “Is there anything else I can get you all?” I pray they'll take their food and shut up, so I can be on my way. Of course, that would be too much to ask, though, especially from Sam, who I am convinced hates me for the sake of hating me.
“Yes, you can scurry your ass back to the trash from where you came. Your presence lowers the value of our foo,” she snipes, and titters with her flunkies following suit.
