emotions, jack gilinsky

6

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amara rahman

"who's the main character? trisha? kris?"

"it's tris, derek." i sigh, coloring in the title on our poster.

"short for beatrice." nate corrects with a snarky wink, causing derek to roll his eyes at him.

"jack? you done reading the summary?"

we all caught jack in the act as he looks up from his phone, "uh..kind of."

i sigh, muttering something under my breath only i can hear.

"alright. well, i'm done with my part." nate says, standing up. "fuck, i'm so sore."

"wait but—" i start.

"me too." derek says. "gotta go to work."

"we still have to do the skit." i manage to tell them before someone can interrupt me again.

"tomorrow." nate waves off, "i'm about to drop dead. we'll meet here tomorrow at 6."

i sigh as nate limps away, followed by derek.

i look over at jack and look back at the poster, filling in the letters.

i let awkward silence slip in between us before my curiosity gets the best of me. "how's your brother?"

i watch from the corner of my eye as he freezes. a couple seconds later, he replies. "fine."

"okay." i wanted to leave it at that, but i tugged it on further. "how are you?"

"why do you care?" he mumbles, closing his computer and turning to our planning sheet.

"i don't know.." i trail off. "i care."

"you care too much. mind your business, yeah?"

this took me back and i felt my cheeks heat. i stand from my seat, rolling up the poster and grabbing my backpack. "i'm gonna go."

+

"here's your bagel." i say, setting the plate down in front of the man. "and for you." i turn to the man sitting across from him, setting down his croissant. "enjoy."

"thank you." they smile politely at me and i smile back, turning to go to the back. "derek?"

he looks up from his phone, "hm?"

"can you seat the people waiting in line?"

he grunts in response, putting his phone down. "gotta leave in 15 for football."

i grit my teeth. even javi does more around here than him. and he's not even here half of the time.

i walk back out, cj catching me by surprise as he opens the door, his bright red letterman jacket practically lighting up the whole room.

i make minimal eye contact with him before quickly looking away, migrating away from the front of the counter.

i begin to brew a coffee for one of the customers, every once and a while looking at cj with curiosity.

he'd been sitting at a table, taking his binder out of his backpack. i narrow my eyes at him, out of all of the places to go and do your homework, you choose here.

i watch as derek walks over to him, greeting him and engaging in conversation.

at one point, derek turns to me. my eyes widen and i look back. shit.

"amara." i hear derek call.

i hesitantly turn towards him, "hm?"

"there's someone waiting at table four." he informs.

i plaster a smile on my face, "sorry. i've got football practice in 15."

he squints at me before crossing his arms. "wow. okay."

"amara." i hear my dad call as he comes out of the back. "table four needs assistance."

derek smirks at me and i mumble a few curses under my breath, "watch the coffee, then."

"but i've got—"

"i don't wanna hear it."

i walk towards cj's table, approaching slowly. "ready to order?"

he looks up at me from his textbook and i felt myself mesmerized by his eyes, instantly looking away.

"uh, yeah. i'd like to order my job back."

i got cj fired this summer by making up some bullshit story about him. and since as far as my dad remembers about how tight our friendship was, he took it pretty seriously and immediately fired him.

if only he knew the real reason.

"i'm sorry." i apologize blankly. "i'm not in control over that. do you want actual food?"

"mar," he murmurs softly, "i need the money. please."

i unconsciously gulp at his nickname for me and my palms began to sweat. "a-are you gonna order?"

his eyes move away from mine and to behind me. i slowly look back at my dad who had been staring us down.

"i guess not." he sighs.

i awkwardly stand there, "..i'm sorry, cj."

"me too."

i wipe my palms on my apron, letting out a shaky breath before turning on my heels and heading to the back.

"dad." i call, "i need to go home."

"what's wrong, amara?"

"i'm fine." i lie, "i have homework, though."

he gives me a look before looking behind me, at the line beginning to form at the register. "we're low on staff.." he trails off, "but, i'll handle it. go home, rest."

it felt as if a huge weight lifted off of my chest. i took no time to gather my things and immediately leave the diner.

****

i'm tempted to publish another chapter after this lmao