Authors: Katrina Penaflor
I can hear her place the waters onto the table. “Alright then, so
boys, what will it be?”
Adam answers her first, “I’ll take a cheeseburger, no onions or
tomatoes.”
“French fries,”
Mason says to her, and leaves
it at that. I’m surprised he didn’t throw in a line or something to get her
attention to stay on him. But then again Mason has always had a different
approach with women.
“
Uhh
, is that guy okay?”
I hear the waitress say. Is she talking to Mason? Is it because
he’s trying to give her sex eyes or something? No ma’am, I should tell her,
that guy is definitely not okay. Believe me, I’ve lived with him the last three
years.
“Yeah, yeah he’s fine. Just completely wasted, you know the usual.
Some food will do him some good.”
I hear him respond.
Wait was she talking about me? I’m the guy that’s questionably
okay? I should respond to her, let her know that even though my eyes are closed
and my head’s on the table I’m “okay”
and really want some
food.
Still resting on the table and facing the direction of Mason, I
try and let her know I want a hamburger, but I think I tell the table that
instead of her.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
She asks me.
“I’ll take a hamburger.”
I say again.
“One more time, a little louder please.”
What, does she want me to shout it from the top of my lungs? Can’t
she see that I’m drunk and in desperate need of food? I turn to face her,
smiling a bit at the thought of seeing what this girl that Adam and Mason are
fighting over looks like. I tell her, “I’ll take a hamburger.”
“Hamburger, got it.”
She writes it down on her
notepad. “I’ll be right back with your guy
s’ food.
”
Before she walks away I take a longer look at her. Attractive,
definitely yes—full lips and dark brown eyes. I can agree with Adam and Mason
on that one, but something about her seems familiar. Like I’ve met her before
or something. I seem to be having a remembrance problem tonight. My head is too
clouded for me to figure out how I know her.
I sit up and reach for one of the waters she left, trying to bring
myself back to life a bit.
“What did she say her name was?”
I ask Adam.
“Emilie,”
he tells me before turning to Mason. “And
no, she was definitely not giving you sex eyes.”
Mason holds up his hands in feigned innocence. “
You weren
’t paying
enough attention.”
“I was paying plenty enough attention. I don’t think she’s really
hit on any of us, and I don’t notice any of the signs you’re telling me about.”
“Then how are we supposed to settle this?”
Mason asks Adam.
“See who she actually talks to when she comes back.”
I tell them.
They both look at me like I’m crazy.
“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!”
Mason tells me.
“
You can
’t be serious.”
I say. “Just see who this girl
talks to. How hard is that? She probably isn’t interested in either of you
anyway. She’s just being nice so she can get tips.”
Adam scratches the back of his neck while he contemplates what I said.
“Alright. Neither of us gets to say anything to her when she brings our food
back. Got it Mase?”
“Fine. Deal.”
Mason reaches his hand out to
Adam and they shake on it.
When the waitress, Emilie, approaches our table again Adam and
Mason keep their mouths shut. But I can’t help but stare at her again. I know
this girl somehow, but I have no idea how I do. Her name isn’t familiar—I
haven’t known an Emilie since high school. But something about her sticks with
me.
She gives us all our food and says nothing to the guys. Just
places their dishes right in front of them. It makes me laugh a bit. But God,
how do I know this girl?
“
You look
familiar.
”
I decide to say to her.
“Maybe I’ve been your waitress before.”
Have I eaten here before? “
Perhaps,
”
I tell her.
“I’m also a student at the college.”
She looks a
little shy when she says it. Shit maybe she’s more interested in me than the
other guys?
I’m not sure what else to say to her, besides ask her how we know
each other, so I just nod my head up and down at her.
Apparently out of things to say as well, she walks away from our
table.
“Looks like she didn’t talk to either of you.”
I tell Mason and Adam.
“Because she was too busy talking to you. I thought we weren’t
supposed to say anything, just see who she talked to first.”
Mason complains.
“No,
you
guys both agreed to not say anything. I didn’t
agree to keep quiet.”
I tell them.
“And how do you know her anyway?”
Adam asks me.
“Honestly, I have no idea. She just looks so familiar to me.”
“Familiar how? Have you slept with her or something?”
I haven’t slept with her. I can figure that much out. “No, that’s
not it. I have no idea. I probably have never even met her before. I’m drunk,
everything’s confusing to me right now.”
“Let’s just forget about the waitress then and eat. This is what
we came here for anyway. Not to fight over a woman.”
Adam says.
The idea sounds good to me. I grab a bottle of ketchup and smother
my burger in it. And leave a good pile to dip my fries in.
We all continue to eat our food and when Emilie comes back I don’t
bother with asking anymore questions. If I do know her, maybe I’ll remember how
w
hen I’m sober. Until then I’ll just give it
a rest. Mason orders more fries for the table and the greasy food is slowly
bringing back my soberness.
“Alright,”
Adam says as he throws his napkin onto his
empty plate. “If I eat one more fry I’m going to pass out. You guys ready to
head out of here?”
“Yeah, when does this place close anyway?”
Asks Mason.
“I think the sign on the door said two.”
He replies.
It’s after one in the morning now. “Well, no use waiting around
until then. I’m ready to leave now too,”
I say. “I’m exhausted,
and still drunk. But it sucks people have to stay around here until that late.”
“Yeah, but people got to make money somehow. A job’s a job. We
don’t all get to slide by on taking pictures like you do, Ren.”
Adam says to me.
“Yes, because photography is the easiest thing in the world to
do.”
I reply. Sure I get paid to take pictures, but it isn’t easy work.
I love that I can afford my apartment, pay for part of my schooling, and all my
other expenses off of taking pictures of people, but it’s definitely no walk in
the park. Good pictures take work.
“You know I’m just messing with you. Now where’s Emilie? We need
our check so we can get out of here.”
Just as Adam finishes talking, a curvy brunette woman walks over
to our table. Her hair and makeup are a bit extreme for a waitress in a diner
and her perfume is already giving me a headache.
“Hi,”
she says before smacking her gum. “I’m
Farrah. Emilie’s on break so I’m covering your table now.”
“Can we get the check please and one more water?”
Mason asks her.
“Sure, whatever,”
she tells us before walking
away.
“She’s all yours boys.”
Mason tells Adam and me.
We both shake our heads, no. “She’s no Emilie, that’s for sure,”
Adam says.
Farrah comes back. “Here,”
she says as she tosses
our check on the table and gives Mason his water. “Have a good night, boys.”
Nobody replies to her. Mason gulps down his water and our table
splits up the bill. We leave a heavy tip for Emilie, and head out to Adam’
s car.
I am spending the entire ride home trying to figure out how
exactly I know Emilie, but I quickly become distracted by the radio and decide
to give it a rest. My drunk mind can only process so much.
“Are you guys still planning on coming over tomorrow after my
game?”
Adam asks us as he pulls up to mine and Mason’s house.
Adam plays on an intramural soccer team at our college’s gym.
Since the school year just started up again, they have a few weeks before real
games start. But his team still plays against people for fun to practice.
Everyone always heads to Adam’s house after for beers.
I told him I was going last week, but I completely forgot I work
that day.
“Yeah I plan on it.”
Mason tells him.
“I can’t,”
I say apologetically. “I have to take a
girl’s senior pictures tomorrow. She already paid the deposit, I can’t cancel.”
“That’s alright.”
“If I get done early I’ll head over, what time is your game?”
“We should be done about four. But don’t worry if you can’t make
it, we do this every week.”
“I’ll let you know, and thanks again for driving tonight. I don’t think
I would’ve been able to make it back from the bar earlier without you.”
I say.
“You know it’s no problem, I got to get home though.”
He says then turns to Mason, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and Ren, I
almost forgot, here’s your phone.”
He passes it to me.
“Wait, why did you have this? I was looking for it earlier.”
“You handed it to me at the bar, said you didn’t want to lose it.”
“I completely forgot. Thanks, I thought I lost this thing.”
“Don’t worry about it. See you guys later.”
Mason and I say goodbye. We get out of Adam’s car and walk up to
our house. It’s a small duplex, about a fifteen minute walk off campus. I’ve
lived here the last three years with Mason and although we’ve constantly
thought about moving out because it
’
s so small, we could
never pass up the cheap rent.
“Do you have your keys?”
Mason asks me. “I forgot
mine.”
“Yeah.”
I go to reach into my sweatshirt’s pocket
only to realize I’m not wearing my sweatshirt. “Shit.”
“What?”
“
I don
’t have my sweatshirt. Was I wearing it in Adam’
s car?
”
He’s already driven off, but I could call him and have him come
back.
“
No, I don
’t think you were. You probably left it at the restaurant.”
“Fuck, how are we supposed to get into the house?”
“The way I see it, we have no other option but to break in,”
he reaches for a rock on the ground.
“No!”
I shout to stop him. “We can’t break a
window to get into our house. Why don’t we try to find one that’s unlocked and
get in that way. You know, like sane people.”
“Since when am I sane?”
Mason says while
laughing. “But since I don’t want to clean up all the glass, or have to deal
with cold coming into our house, we can do your plan.”
Seriously, how do I live with this person? He’s wanting to break
windows to get into our own house.
Luckily we only have a one floor place, so we don’t have to climb
up anything. We go to the front window first and try to push it open—locked.
“Try the side window, Mase.”
“Locked.”
“
Shit, we
’ll have to hop the fence and try the ones to our rooms.”
“On it.”
Mason runs over to the fence and pulls
himself over. “Mine’
s
open.
”
He shouts to me.
“Good. Get into the house and let me in through the front door.”
When Mason opens the front door he looks
pissed.
“What’s wrong?”
“
Ren, we
’re fucking idiots.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t need to come around to open this, and we didn’t need to
break in.”
I wasn’t sure I was following him. “What do you mean?”
“We
never locked the door in the first place.”
Chapter Three
Emilie
“Hi.”
I turn to help the customer I hear at the counter, but am
surprised when I see it’s the guy from the other night. The one who was passed
out on the table, Mr. Green Eyes.
“Hi,”
I
respond. I don
’t know what else to say to him.
“You were here the other night. You waited my table.”
“You can remember me?”
“Ha,”
he puts his hands in his front pockets and
raises his shoulders. “Yeah, I was a bit drunk.”
“A bit? You looked dead.”
“But look at me now; I’m alive and
kickin
’.”
He’s definitely looking better. He’s all cleaned up and sober. His dark, wavy,
hair is still a little messy, but I like it. And he’s taller looking than I
expected, easily over six feet.
“That’s true. So what can I do for you? You want to order
something?”
“No, actually. I came to see if I left my sweatshirt here. I went
home and couldn’t find it, and my friend Mason said I probably left it here.”
“I think I remember picking it up. Grey, right?”
He nods. “Let me check the lost and found in the back.”
I leave Green Eyes and walk into the back room. Usually things
that end up in our lost and found get tossed. People who forget stuff in this
tiny diner usually don’t care enough to come back for them.
Surprisingly there are multiple sweatshirts in the box, but I find
the only grey one and bring it back to the guy.
“Here you go.”
“
Thanks...
”
“Emilie,”
I say.
“Emilie,”
right. “How could I forget from the other
night?”
I give him a look that says “you were wasted, that’s how.”
He puts the sweatshirt back on. He reaches into the pocket and pulls
out a set of keys before putting them back in. He also doesn’t leave. “I know
you from somewhere.”
“Yeah, I waited on you the
oth
—”
“No,”
he stops me. “Not that. I couldn’t figure
it out the other night either.”
I remember him saying this when he was last here. “Well to be
honest
,
I’ve never seen you before.”
“Ren.”
“Huh?”
I ask.
“Ren, my name is Ren. You were saying you haven’t seen me before,
and I wanted to make sure you knew my name. ‘You haven’t seen me before,’
Ren.”
“Ren, okay. Well
,
like I was saying, you’ve got me confused for someone else. We
haven’t met before the other night
,
or I
would’ve remembered.”
Smiling as he rests his forearms onto the counter Ren says, “Oh,
you would’ve remembered me, huh?”
I can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles,
adding to his charm.
Damnit.
“
We haven
’t met before, that’s the end of that. Unless you would like to
order something, the hanging around the counter and staring at me needs to come
to an end.”
“I’ll take a coffee.”
He says, while taking a
seat on one of the barstools.
He’s not leaving. I should’ve figured. I basically just handed him
a reason to stay and ogle me.
“Fine. One coffee coming right up.”
I serve him
up a cup in one of the diner’s white mugs.
Ren takes a sip. “This coffee tastes like shit.”
I can’t help myself. “I spit in it.”
Ren coughs from what I said and beads of coffee drip down his
chin, which he quickly wipes off.
“Are you serious?”
He asks with a look of horror
to his face.
I laugh at him. The kid is so gullible. “
Relax, I
’m kidding.
But yeah the coffee here is really no good. I think Farrah, one of our other
waitresses, made it this morning.”
“She needs a new job.”
“God, finally someone else who agrees with me on that.”
Ren smiles. “So what else do you do, besides serve shitty coffee?”
“I’m a student. That’s about it.”
“That’s it? So you’re a waitress, a student, and boring.”
“Hit the nail on the head. What do you do? Besides binge drink,
and lose your clothes?”
“I am a master at losing my clothes,”
he winks. “But I’m a student here too. And I’m a photographer.”
That’s actually pretty cool, and not something I would’ve expected
him to say. “What kind of photography do you do?”
“Most of the time just high school senior photos, which is nice
because I make a lot of money doing it. But it’s kind of boring. What I really
like is photographing people. Shots that look simple at first glance, but are
actually pretty complex. Not just ‘look at this person’
but ‘look at what this person has to say without saying anything
at all.’”
“You don’t strike me as the artsy type.”
“People can surprise you.”
“Yeah,”
I tell him. “They definitely can.”
I notice a family of four walk into the diner and take a seat by
the front windows. “I’ll be back,”
I tell Ren.
“I have to go wait on the
people who just walked in.”
He nods and takes another sip of his coffee, and by the look on
his face he regrets it.
I head over to the family who walks in and take their drink
orders. Thankfully
,
they already know what they wanted, and I take down their food
orders too. After giving the ticket to the cook, and giving them their drinks,
I’m back to standing at the counter in front of Ren.
“So, Emilie, I’ve concluded that since you are a very boring
person, you probably have a lot of time on your hands.”
“Actually I don’t.”
He raises up his hand. “Let me finish. You
obviously
have a
lot of time on your hands and I’m going to solve that. Tonight we’re going on a
date. I’ll wine and dine you.”
“Oh, really? I’m not the ‘wine and dine’
type. I’m in no way fancy.”
“Three dollar wine. Five dollar pizza. Believe me, I
ain
’
t gettin
’
fancy with it.”
I want to say no, but I look at his stupid green eyes with the
crinkles on the edges and part of me wants to say yes.
For a reason I can’t explain I tell him “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He looks shocked. “I didn’t actually think
you were going to say yes.”
Oh shit. He was joking. The one time I agree to go on a date, and
I wasn’t even asked for real. “So you don’t want to go on a date?”
“No, no. I do. Definitely. I was just surprised. I thought you
would say no, reject me right off the bat.”
“Well, I said yes. So where are we going?”
“It’
s a
surprise.
”
I don
’t like
surprises. “Tell me anyway.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“
I don
’t know where we’re going yet. You said yes two minutes ago, you
think I’ve had time to plan a date in that period of time?”
He has a point. “Fine, give me your phone number. I’ll text you
later and we’ll figure this out.”
“You’re a lot more demanding than I thought you would be.”
“I’m just straightforward.”
“How about I take
your
phone number
and then
I
will be the one to contact you tonight.”
I nod my head to agree and I enter my number into Ren’s phone. He
pays for his “shitty coffee”
and leaves the diner with a
promise to text me tonight.
We’ll
see.