The Summer Job

Chapter 5- What do you Want?

I wake up the next day with a throbbing headache. It isn't long before the memories of last night come flooding back to me. I cringe as I relive the moment of me throwing up on Tyler's shoes in my head. I hear snoring coming from the floor. I look down on the ground to see that Vicki is sleeping on the floor of my room. I throw a pillow at her to get her to wake up. She suddenly pops her head up and yawns.

"Oh hey Lana." She says.

"Thanks for taking me back to my house. You're a lifesaver." I say to her.

"Yeah no problem. You weren't lying when you said you got sick off of vodka.." She says.

"How bad was it?" I ask.

"Do you want an honest answer?" She asks me with doubtful eyes.

"Yes, just tell me." I sigh.

"Well after you threw up on Tyler's shoes, everyone started laughing. And then I followed you out and found you asleep on the lawn." I throw my head into my pillow, embarrassed.

"Oh my god." I groan. This was my opportunity to make a first impression on the people that I'll be seeing at school for the next year and I screw it up. I fucking throw up on some popular guy's shoes. God, I am so stupid.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, my friends really liked you."

"Aww." I reply, trying to sound happy. I am, it's just that I can't stop thinking about last night.

"See, they all just texted me asking if you were okay." Vicki says, showing me her phone.

"Tell them I have passed away from embarrassment."

"Oh c'mon, it really wasn't that bad." I look at her with a blank expression.

"Okay well maybe it was, but who cares. Most of the people at that party were drunk anyways so I'm sure most people forgot."

"Let's hope."

"Okay well i'm going to head out." Vicki says, getting up.

"Bye and thanks again."

"No problem girl."

Once she leaves, I get out of bed as well I go downstairs and grab an advil for my headache and then I decide on taking a shower.

—------------------

I just get out of the shower when I get a call from Drew. I wrap a towel around me and answer.

"Hey." He says through the phone.

"Hi."

"You didn't answer my text last night." He says.

"Oh sorry I forgot. I was at a party so I wasn't really looking at my phone." I explain. His face darkens a bit and I can tell he is mad.

"You went to a party?"

"Yeah, what is the big deal."

"I just thought you maybe would've told me if something like that happens." He says.

"Well don't worry because I will not be attending another anytime soon." I reassure him. He still doesn't respond.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I mean why is it so fucking hard to tell me that you are going to a party. Don't you think that is something I would like to know?" He asks, his tone getting angrier. Why is he making such a big deal about this?

"Look, I'm sorry. Texting you isn't always my first priority." I snap back. The second the words leave my mouth, I regret it. Maybe too harsh...

"I won't bother making an effort then. I thought you liked that I did that."

"I do it's just-" I begin but he cuts me off.

"You make zero effort so someone has to carry the relationship. Why does it always have to be me?" He asks. I can tell he is hurt and now I feel bad.

"I know babe. It's just that I have been busy these past couple days, adjusting to everything. But you're right, I should make more of an effort. I'm sorry." I say.

"It's okay. Well I have to go now for soccer practice, bye."

"Bye." I hang up the phone, feeling perplexed. I really like Drew, it's just that sometimes he can be somewhat suffocating.

"Hey." I say to Chris once I arrive at work.

"Someone had quite the time at the party the other day.." Chris says.

"I am not talking about this. I am already embarrassed enough as it is."

"Okay. I'm going to go clean up table 3's dishes." Chris says, walking away.

"Umm excuse me, throw up girl, I would like to be served." I hear someone say. I then see it was Tyler and his friends.

"Throw up girl? How creative."

"You owe me some new shoes you know. Those were my favorite ones." Tyler whines.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying my best to ignore him.

"My usual." He says simply.

"And what is your usual?" I ask. He looks surprised as though I should know his order by heart.

"Wow I got to say, I am offended you don't remember my Shirley temple order. I might be writing a complaint soon." He replies, laughing. I turn around and make his drink. As usual, he doesn't say anything in response, just takes his drink and walks away. Typical..