The Butterfly Effect | grayson dolan

Chapter 2

Friday Afternoon ...

After Jackie and I got home from school, I quickly went upstairs to try and get my makeup bag together, along with my leftover alcohol, and a cute, but comfy outfit for the party. I decided on leggings, with a crop top, a flannel and some converse. I internally prayed that this party isn't that type of party where people say it's "chill" and then everyone wears their most boujee apparel, otherwise I'd look like an idiot. I moseyed around the house until it was four o'clock, and it was time for me to get ready for work. I went downstairs to make sure my mom was awake, which she was; she was sitting on the couch, reading a book with the TV on.

"Hey, mom, can you drive me to work today? I'm gonna hang out with Lindsey later and she's gonna pick me up after my shift," I called. My mom gave me thumbs up, and pointed to my work shirt which she had ironed for me. Thank God for that woman, seriously. I grabbed the shirt and ran upstairs to grab my outfit, makeup, and alcohol and put it all in a big bag. I tied my hair in a loose ponytail, walked down the stairs and out the door, following my mom to the car.

I waved bye to my mom as she dropped me off outside of the restaurant, the scent of pizza, and garlic wafting through the air. I walked towards the back door to clock in, when the door, which swung both ways suddenly smacked me in the face.

"Ow! What the hell?" I muttered as I felt an egg growing on my forehead.

"I'm so sor-wait, Jen?" It was Grayson. The person who clocked me in the head before I'd even entered the building was Grayson; go figure.

"Okay, just so you know for future reference, customers enter through the front door," I snapped, propping a hand on my hip.

"I'm not a customer," Grayson said sheepishly, "I work here." I shut my eyes for a few seconds, partly in pain, and partly in annoyance. Like I said, I can't freaking shake this kid.

"Wonderful," I deadpanned, walking past him to slide in my timecard and moved towards the front. I placed my bag down on a shelf where it would be safe and tied my apron around my waist, preparing for the battle of the Friday night rush.

The restaurant I worked at was Lucando's; an Italian place about fifteen minutes from my house. I waited tables there, while also answering phones and managing take-out orders, and weekend nights, like any other restaurant were mayhem. I got my check book ready, complete with my envelope to hold my money, a pen and a notepad, and started answering phones. After I answered a few phone calls, I looked at the time, it was 5:30 PM, wow, that went by kind of quick, I thought to myself.

A few people walked in and the hostess, Anna, seated them, my ears perking up; people meant tables, and tables meant tips. When suddenly, my manager walked up to me, with Grayson behind him.

"Hi Jen, how are you?" My manager, Jerry, greeted me as he approached the counter.

"I'm good, Jerry, and you?" I replied, while also keeping watch out of the corner of my eye for the Anna who was writing down whose table it was. She started to walk over to me.

"I'm fine—oh, perfect timing, Anna! So, Jen is going to train Grayson here tonight on phones. He's going to be a delivery driver, but he has to learn how to take a phone call, work the computer, and know the menu first obviously, so all the tables in the front section tonight are going to go to Kelly and Charlotte. Sound good?" Anna nodded her head in understanding, and turned around to tell Charlotte that my table was now hers. I sighed ... my rage for Grayson did not seem to be turning around.

"So, Jen, as I just said, this is Grayson—" Jerry continued.

"Oh, I know," I said flatly, staring at Grayson.