THALIA

54. Golden boy

• THALIA •

It's been 8 days since the morning I woke up in that creeps. 8 days since I got kicked out of a bar because I didn't want to buy anything. 8 days since I had to take shelter underneath a little bus stop because the rain was absolutely hammering it down.

Luckily, when the bus driver pulled up and I got on the bus with no money, he looked at my current state and decided to have a little pity. So he let me on. But only for an hour, then I had to scram.

When I got off the bus I ended up walking into some cafe. It was run by an elderly woman and she kindly gave me a job. Said she and her husband needed all the help they could get.

I told her I'd lock up every night, that I could work for hours upon hours. She said okay. What I failed to mention is the fact I'm bunking in one of the cluttered storage rooms. What she doesn't know won't hurt her .

So skip forward 8 days.

I'm currently on my 7th hour of my shift and I've been here since 8am. Well, currently I never left but we'll just leave that part out, eh?

I'm desperately trying to keep my eyes open but my eyelids are feeling rather heavy.

The bell above the door chimes, I'm too tired for this.

I look up to see a group of boys laughing about something. They look around the age that would be in sixth form or college.

Before they came in the coffee shop was near enough silent so now that they've raised the volume by quite a bit, I can't help but listen in.

I mean, what do teenage boys even talk about?

After trying to discreetly listen in for a few minutes, I gathered that they were talking about pretty stupid stuff. Girls, football, parties, girls again.

One of the boys stand up from his chair and starts heading towards me.

I take a few deep breaths, dreading what's to come. I don't do well with conversations. I don't do well with people my age. Put two and two together... I'm going to struggle.

"Hey..." he starts, shoving his hands into his Jean pockets.

I attempt a smile but god knows what my failed attempt looked like. "Hi, what can I get ya?"

A small smirk tugs on the guys lips, "well, every time me and my mates come here it doesn't take 15 minutes to get served. Normally the staff aren't ogling us."

I forgot.

I forgot that I was meant to go over there. Ahhhh, shoot shoot shoot.

"I am sorry for that, I was just..."

The boy scoffs, "cool, well if you could..." he gestures to the table he was just sat at with his mates.

I grab my notebook and pen out of my apron and
follow him to the table, "right. Of course."

Approaching the table, I try not to give myself much space for any worries about what's about to happen.

I take a few deep breaths, what's the worst that can happen...

"What can I get you?" I ask the group of guys quickly and quietly.

My eyes decide to scan over all their faces without my consent.

All these boys look like rich pricks

Just my type

Screw me for reading too much about fictional men who have set the bar way too high.

Me eyes stop on one of the guys. He's got the biggest smile spread across his golden skin. And it's directed at me.

We hold eye contact for longer than I would have liked. Long enough to make me feel things I'd rather not.

He's got an Abercrombie blue and white striped shirt on, a gold chain leaking out from the few buttons that are undone.

The tips of his light brown hair are lighter, near enough blond. If he were a colour, he'd be gold. Argue with the wall.

His eyes are a sandy brown and his lifts are a soft pink, and they're very very full.

"Did you heart that, sweetheart?" Someone laughs.

I break the eye contact and direct my attention to whoever just called me sweetheart. "Huh?"

The boys snicker to themselves, "I said... did you hear me, sweetheart?"

"No."

"I asked for the salmon."

I scribble his order down and redirect my attention to the next big along. He gives me his order. Then I ask the next boy, and so on, and so on.

Until the second to last guy I ask shattered all dreams of me doing this without any trouble. "Are you on the menu?"

Golden boy slaps his buddy on the chest, too hard that it's not in a playful manner. "Bro,"

His mate shrugs it off and looks to the others for clarification that what he did was funny. They give him what he wants.

"What, man? Just messing."

Golden boys sits back in his seat, an arm across the back of the chair. He looks pretty out of the conversation.

I skip over the guy and go to golden boy. "And you?" I try to stay composed but the looks he's giving me is really not helping right now.

"Just a lemonade, please."

"Sprite alright? Or 7 up."

"Just a sprite, please." He tilts his head the slightest bit, so small that it's nearly unrecognisable. He's got s glint in his eyes, a mischievous one that makes me want to run for the hills. This guys trouble.

"Great." I stuff my pen and notepad back into my apron pocket, turn on my heel and get the fuck out of there.