Breaking Free » l.∤.

Chapter 9 - The Baked Potato Co.

Sasha's POV:

"Sasha, hurry up! The lunch rush is going to be here any minute now and those tables need to be clean!" My boss Mr. Standwell scolded me as I sprayed santizer on tables and scrubbed them clean. His name was fitting, Standwell, all he did was stand there all day telling us what to do while he read magazine. Probably a Playboy one.

I looked over at my co-worker, the only other one here, Levi who was cleaning the tables in a much more thorough way. He had this exact pattern he wiped them down with. It was kind of soothing to watch actually. "No you're doing it wrong!" Levi scolded me suddenly. Hoenstly I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing anymore. "It's a wrist motion, gosh it's like you've never cleaned before." He moved me aside and demonstrated on my table but he got carried away and ended up just cleaning the whole thing. Some might call him a clean freak. "Why don't you go back behind the counter and I'll do the cleaning." He said. I agreed and walked behind the counter.

There weren't any costumers yet, everything was cleaned up and ready, and Mr. Standwell was really into his magazine and eating an apple so I had a few spare moments. I used those moments to check my notifications on my phone.

"Harry_Styles favorited your tweet: First day working at the Baked Potato Co.!!! So excited!!! Love potatoes!!!""

"Harry_Styles has sent you a message"

I rolled my eyes and clicked on it.

"Harry_Styles: Congratulations on the job."

I really don't know what this guy wants from me. He keeps messaging me and favoriting all my tweets.

I know most people would be freaking out because it's the Harry Styles but I'm not most people. I don't think that way. He's just another guy. Yeah, he's a guy that happens to be famous, has a great voice, great personality, and great hair. So what? I know guys like that in the National Guard. I have friends like that. I'm not going to treat Harry here any differently than I would treat one of them. I don't know why but he's coming across as if he expects me to treat him more special than my other followers. I liked him better before fame got to his head.

Or maybe he wasn't really as bad as I thought he was? At this point in my life I just wasn't really interested in falling all over guys. I guess you could blame the National Guard for that. I knew exactly what guys were like now when they're not trying to impress you and it's not very pretty. Not to mention the entire time I was there I was constanly put down for being a woman. There weren't very many women there and the guys didn't think we could do the job as well as they could.

It's no wonder I haven't had any interest in guys since I got back.

Oh I should probably write him back before Mr. Standwell notices I'm just standing here.

"Me: Thanks. :)"

Just as I was about to put my phone away...

You guessed it.

"Harry_Styles: So are you at your job right now?"

Just as I read that, a costumer walked in and Mr. Standwell turned towards me, seeing me on my phone. "Sasha, there's a costumer." He said, smiling sarcastically at me.

"Me: Yes and I can't talk I have to help costumers."

I slid my phone into my pocket and smiled at the lady and her young son as they approached the counter. "Hi, welcome to the Baked Potato Company. What can I get for you?"

"Mommy, I want a pretzel. I don't want a potato." The little boy said as he tugged on his mother's blouse. The mother and boy argued about potatoes for several seconds while my phone was buzzing in my pocket like crazy. Who the hell keeps messaging me?! I wanted so badly to turn off the ringer but Mr. Standwell was staring at me, judging my performace. I couldn't risk losing this job just because of Twitter.