Melting the Ice

11; insouciant

"insouciant"

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 (ɪnˈsu si ənt, adjective) A French word with French origins, insouciant is defined as the complete freedom from worry, concern or anxiety. One is completely carefree and nonchalant to the world around them. 

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I can read the shock on Zach's face. I know this wasn't something he expected me to say. Hell, even I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. It just came to me. 

I was toying with the thought of asking Zach. Because Zach has money. A lot of it. And I believe he could easily lend some to me. I would, of course, pay him back every cent. But I need money. And I'm getting so desperate I'm even willing to ask someone like Zach for help. 

If he didn't know I wasn't the one he should actually hang out with and be seen with before, I think it's pretty clear to him now.

Zach leans forward, getting closer to me, resting his elbows on the table and intertwining his hands under his chin. He looks so serious. I hear my heart pounding in my ears. I realise I've already completely torn the napkin apart, but I'm still tearing the small pieces apart, as much as I can, while staring straight at Zach.

"You need me to lend you $200,000?" Zach asks to make sure.

I swallow before I nod shortly. It looks like the voice left my body and I'm unable to form a response.

"That's a lot of money," Zach notes, dropping his voice down. Even though there aren't many people here that could hear us. "Why would you need that kind of money, Analeigh?"

I have to break our gaze because his is so intense that I want to take the vase that's on the table, take the flowers out and pour the water all over my face. "Uhm," I mumble. I can feel how sweaty I'm getting. "I can't tell you that."

Zach lifts his eyebrow. "Usually, when you lend someone money, it's essential to know why they need it for ..." 

I look down at the table. "I just ... I really need it, okay? I wouldn't be asking if I had any choice. I'll pay you back every cent, I promise. You can even make a contract and I'll sign anything I -"

"Analeigh," Zach calls my name softly and puts his big hand over mine on the table. "You're shaking," he notices.

I open my mouth and then look at him. Nothing comes out of my mouth because I realise he's right. I really am shaking - terribly and noticeably. "Analeigh! What do you think you're doing? Do you think you're paid to sit with the customers? Go back to work!"

I jump up on the chair, the guilt rising inside of me. I stand up abruptly, almost overturning the chair. I pull my uniform down. "I'm sorry," I say and hang my head. I go away from Zach without another glance at him.

Embarrassment hits me when I get fully away from him, out of his sight, and start to clean the tables. What was I thinking, coming to him with that suggestion? People don't just give you the money nowadays. And Zach doesn't know me well enough to just freely give me 200,000 dollars. 

Plus, that'll make him ask questions. Questions I can't answer. 

When I finish with the tables, I pray Zach already left. I know that if he's still here, I can't avoid him because he's sitting at the table which I have to go past if I want to go to the back.