Eighty Days of Heartache

the first day; [1]

THE FIRST DAY
» PART [1]

THE NEXT DAY, I sit in Apple Jack's American style diner and struggle over my psychology notes. None of the words make sense, and for once I find myself struggling to write. This never happens whenever I write for psychology. The words don't blur together, and everything flows with sense.

Today it's a traffic jam of thoughts and a collision of words, with casualties resulting in messy notes and even messier explicits that fly from my lips with exasperation. I'm sure the family of five behind me have complained about my outbursts twice.

"You look stumped right now, hon," I look up over my work dismally to see the waitress Pink, her name stitched in red on her crisp white shirt where a name badge would usually be. The whole diner was painted red, and stitched with silver, so her uniform was nothing short of the colours. "What's wrong?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I watch as she tucks a strand of bubble—gum soft pink hair behind her ear. She chuckles slightly, placing my wild boar and apple burger on the table in front of me, as well as my cheesy chips.

"Just school work," I answer honestly as I offer her a few of my chips. She takes some, thanking me quickly before glancing over her shoulder. She seems a little on edge, as she begins fidgeting with her electric pink fingertips.

Pink was usually bubbly and bright, much like her candy—floss pink hair. Seeing her glance over her shoulder and blink several times with evident anxiousness, has me concerned.

"You okay, Pink?" I mutter lowly, watching as she turns back to me before sighing.

Leaning over the table slightly she says, "there's a boy... he's at the front of the restaurant asking to sit with you, but I know Blake will rip him a new one for even asking if he can sit with you."

"Wait— what?" I can't process her words as I shake my head, rattling my brain and trying to get it to function right now. "Who's asking?"

Pink sighs. "His name he says is Nero, and he looks like a decent person —" my sudden coughing and spluttering has Pink's eyes widening as she glances down at me with worry. "Doe? Shit, are you dying?"

I think I am, because Nero's here, and he's asking to sit it with me. My mind drifts back to the end of our conversation, my throat drying as I realise he had said "I'll see you tomorrow, babe."

Today was tomorrow... he couldn't have meant that he was going to gatecrash my quality me time.

Sighing with annoyance, I shake my head and hang it low enough so my hair falls over my eyes. I don't want him to look at me, yet alone sit across from me and do whatever he has plans to do.

"Just let him over," Pink looks at me as if I've grown an extra eye, because both of us know if Blake catches the slightest glimpse or word of a boy sitting opposite me, I'm as dead as the wild boar that sits on my plate.

With pleading eyes I look up at her and say, "just do whatever you can do to make sure Blake doesn't find out?" When she cocks a perfectly painted black eyebrow in my direction, I give her a wide grin. "I'll give you a good tip."

She smirks, giving me a happy wink before spinning on her heel as she says, "done deal." I watch her walk away, the pen stuck in her hair bobbing up and down as she walks to the front of the restaurant where I finally see Nero.