Another Love Story (Book 2.5 of selection fanfics)

Chapter 1

One Week Before Another Selected

A strand of hair brushed my eyelid as I hoisted a silver tray laden with food over my shoulder. I hated when someone ordered the seven layer nacho dip. Not only was it extremely disgusting--I knew for a fact that the cheese was most definitely not cheese--but it also weighed about forty pounds. Mom insisted that the the dip be put in large, ceramic bowls that weighed twenty pounds on their own. All in all, it led to me sprinting over to the table, pausing to gasp for breath, and then rushing back to the kitchen to grab another. Why is it that people always order the most disgusting food on the menu?

"Excuse me? My drink needs to be refilled," a man shook his half-full glass towards me.

"Of course. Just give me one minute," I feigned a smile as I heaved the gigantic bowl over to a table filled with people. Nobody thanked me and I sighed as I returned to grab the man's drink.

I wanted to give him the wrong drink; this was the fifth time in a half hour that he'd asked me to refill it. But I couldn't risk another complaint. One more, and my parents would dock my already measly pay.

Daniella, my older sister, tossed me a glare as she ruffled her hair and sauntered over to a table filled with middle-aged men. I noticed that she'd taken her wedding ring off again--married for a month and she already missed the attention she'd gotten as a bachelorette. And the tips.

It wasn't that she didn't love Jarrod, though they were a supremely odd couple. He was around five years older than her and held a stable but frankly boring job at the bank, that paid for his fairly boring life. Daniella was my flashy, 23 year old sister with expensive taste and no money to support it. The first time we'd met Jarrod, I'd assumed she was with him for the money and stability. Only at their wedding did I realize she might actually love him.

Suddenly, the door jangled as one of the other waiters walked in to start his shift. Eagerly, I began to scurry towards the kitchens, ready to toss aside my apron and go home. Miraculously, I managed to avoid any customers who wanted something, and was able to burst through the double doors that meant my freedom.

I could hear Mom screaming at the cooks and the waiter who'd just arrived. Discreetly, I clocked out, hung up my apron, and snuck out the back door without her noticing. The last thing I needed was her demanding I stay another three hours.

A cool breeze tickled my neck as I walked outside and untied my ponytail. Dad had made it a requirement that all waitresses tie their hair up; somehow, that didn't apply to Daniella, who managed to get away with her thick, bouncy hair that curled to her chest.

A car whizzed past me as I waited to cross the sidewalk that would take me to my Aunt Callida's house. Auntie Callida was my father's sister and more of a mother to me than my own. She lived on the smaller side of town, with her boyfriend and my Grandmama. Her street was filled with small, colorful houses. Each had a tiny green lawn and the remains of concrete driveways. Very few of the houses had cars; most had bikes locked or tossed in a pile at the side of the house.

Callida lived in a pale blue house in the middle of the street. I could hear music streaming out of the open kitchen window, followed by some of the most wonderful smells. I grinned, already deciding that I'd stay for dinner rather than go home to leftovers.

"Auntie Callida? It's Liana!" I called out as I opened the unlocked door.

"Come here, sweetie! I need you to taste this!" Her sing-song voice rang out from the kitchen.

I kicked off my shoes and bounded into the kitchen. Grandmama sat at the table, her graying brown hair falling to her ears. She was knitting yet another baby blanket.