Pancake House

Chapter Three

I stood behind Justin as he opened the passenger's door and held it open for me. I smiled weakly at him. "Sorry to be a burden," I uttered softly.

He touched my shoulder, "You're not, don't worry about it." He looked at his hand and instantly retracted it. He played it off with a smirk and nodded his head, urging me to take a seat in the car.

I did and buckled my seat belt. As Justin made his way to the driver's side of the car, I looked around the car. The seats were dark gray with dark red accents lining certain parts of the car.

I carefully traced the red outlining when I heard the car door open and saw Justin's burly body sit in the seat next to me. He turned to face the front and turned on the engine, his eyes focusing on the wheel and road.

Justin's hand slowly made its way to the radio, keeping his eyes carefully on the road. I felt a sense of the calming atmosphere when the radio did turn on.

It was the jazz station.

I broke through the music with an amused voice, "Nice taste of music, huh?"

He glanced at me for half a second before turning his eyes back on the road, "My father listened to jazz so I kind of got it in my system."

I didn't know what he meant by the past tense of listen, but I didn't let it bother me. A couple seconds past in the silence as we neared the pancake house.

I heard low humming in rhythm with the music and my head spun around to Justin's direction. His humming was perfectly in tune and was greatly in sync with the music from the radio. As I stayed silent, I heard more of his humming and soon a light sound came from my own mouth.

He stopped at the stop sign at the entrance to the parking lot for employees and turned to me, with a small smile on his face.

I hummed to the music in the quietest voice, almost being entirely absorbed by his beckoning humming

-

I sighed in exasperation as I untied my apron, with the final minutes of work counting down on the clock. I started to clean the counters with a wipe and put the left-over dishes in the sink. Justin was taking out the garbage and sending the kitchen workers out since they work too hard for their own good.

I closed my eyes for a couple seconds as I went to grab an empty milkshake glass. I heard one of our kitchen staff's voice saying, "Hold on, I forgot my bag." The door behind me was shoved open, causing me to fall forward.

The milkshake glass slipped from my hand falling onto the floor, with me right behind it.

I winced as I felt a sharp pain in the palm of my hand and upper cheek. I opened my eyes to see small shards of glass everywhere, including in my hand.

Ella, the kitchen staff who was 9 years older than me gasped, "Ariela! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" I slightly nodded her a yes, as she helped me up. "It's fine, Ella. Don't worry about me, I'm okay."

Though my statement, tears started to prick my eyes and blur my vision. Ella started to panic at the sight of my teary eyes, though my efforts to calm her.

"Oh no, no, no. Hold on, I'll get Justin," Ella exclaimed. She opened the door with lightning speed and ran out the door.

Not knowing what to do with myself, I just sat on the counter holding the hand with the cut. A few moments later I heard deafening footsteps getting louder as they neared the restaurant. A panting Justin came through the door and when he met my eyes, he sighed in relief.