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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 . . . 𝘈 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ❝ I just like the movies that when someone asks 'What's this about?' you can't explain it. ❞
CHARLIE GILMORE DID, in fact, have to work the morning shift. She usually preferred mid-to-late afternoon shifts, as to avoid Taylor demanding breakfast or Patty and Babette's gossip over coffee, but today this was impossible.
Not to mention that, even after some hours in the diner, she had a killer headache, feeling as though someone was stabbing her brain.
"Jeez, kid, I didn't think you were serious about the kegs."
Charlie gave her mother a very unamused look, sliding an empty coffee mug across the counter and beginning to fill it up.
"Em and I pulled an all-nighter," Charlie began her excuse ritual, "And Luke called me in because he likes to see me suffer."
"Yes, it's better than watching the game," Luke said dryly, sliding Lorelai a piece of cherry pie on a porcelain plate.
"Wow, do I come here this much?" Lorelai questioned, staring at the food she'd not asked for.
"Yup," Charlie sighed, looking to Luke, "Can I work tomorrow after school?"
"Sure," Luke nodded, "Bring your homework."
Charlie repeated his words in a high-pitched voice, starting her route around the diner again. She chose to tune out her mother and Luke's conversation of the trip-- of Harvard. Sure she suggested it, but she didn't want to hear every little detail about the bricks Rory found interesting.
"C'mon, Hon," Lorelai said, turning on the stool so she was facing Charlie, "We're getting food then going home."
