Chapter Eight

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[A/N]: *** The diner that Carson works at will be introduced in this chapter. Again, this setting is completely fictional.

 

                                                       Chapter Eight

 

"It's taking every ounce of my willpower to not pour this newly brewed coffee down those bitches hair," I complained to Wanda Wates, my co-worker at the Harley's Diner.

Wanda gave me a confused look before turning her head slightly to her right. Across the room sat a group of five girls who literally looked like they came fresh from the strip club. Their thin hairs were teased to make it seem as though they had thick hair, their faces were covered with tacky makeup, and of course, they all wore booty shorts during the middle of March. Yeah, only a bimbo would dress up like them in a country like Canada.

Wanda then let out a small laughed as she patted my shoulder. "Honey, I feel your pain," she teased. "But I'll tell you what,  I can take over your shift if you want. Besides, you need to get home and start doing your homework, you know?" She put her hands on her hips as she gave me a meaningful look.

I snorted as I smoothed out my baby blue uniform and white apron. "No, no," I insisted. "I can handle them."

"You sure?" Wanda raised an eyebrow at me.

 "Yes!" I laughed. "They're not going to hurt me."

"Honey, please," Wanda said. "I'm not worried about you getting hurt. I'm worried about the restraining order you're going to get after you throw a punch at one of them."

I nearly choked on the air I was breathing. "Don't kill me, Wanda!" I cried.

Wanda chuckled as she grabbed the tray of food out of my hands. "Let me deal with those girls," she persisted. "Just go home. Do your homework. Get some rest. It's your senior year, Carson. You shouldn't be working all the time."

I smiled at Wanda. She was a small forty-year-old lady who looked nothing her age. She had a smooth dark complexion that showed no signs of aging whatsoever. For the past four years, she's literally been like a second-mother to me. I could go to her for almost anything and I have to admit, the only reason why I continued to work at this small diner is because of her. I enjoyed working with Wanda and I actually look forward to the end of the day when I got to have my girl talk with her.

"You sure?" I asked as I looked around the diner that was packed with students. "I don't want you to suffer alone."

"I can handle it, dear," Wanda said stroking my hair. "Now go. Me and Luca can handle the people. Is that right, sweetheart?" She turned her attention to Luca who was fumbling with the cash register.

Luca looked up and grinned. "Yeah, sure!" He said cheerfully. "But, er, Carson?"

I smiled. "Yes?"

"C-could you help me over here?" Sweat trickled down his dark skin.

With a small laugh, I walked over to the cash register and helped Luca with another customer. When the cash register had refused to open, I looked over to Luca and said, "This peice of shit is old. Just give it a good smack on the head." I then banged my fist onto it as Luca stared at me like I was some sadistic killer.

"Here you go, sir," I said giving the old man his change. "Have a great day!'

Luca snorted. "Thanks, Carson," he said.

"No problem, kiddo," I replied patting him on the shoulder. "Anyways, I gotta go. Give me a hug?" I held out my arms for him.

Luca smiled as he pulled me into a tight bear-hug. He was only fifteen-years-old and yet, he was still taller than me. How was that even possible?

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