Chapter 70

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"Jackson, I got a one fifteen. Can I get some help?" Carmela called behind her, adjusting her black cap.

A fuming man stood in front of her behind the cashier counter, his fists around a box. There was a bitten burger inside, and clearly this man was ungrateful for his food. Or maybe he was just having a bad day.

"Kay, I'm a coming!" Jackson called from behind. He dropped his spatula by the frying station and rushed over to the counter. "And I'm here. Is there a problem, sir?" Jackson smiled at the man.

"He's yelling at me over his egg. Says its uncooked--" Carmela started.

"Excuse me, girl, but last time I checked you weren't a 'sir'." The short chubby man snapped.

"Maybe you didn't check right--" Carmela growled.

"Okay, okay! Bro, if you're not cool with your burger, I'd be happy to get you a new one." Jackson offered. The man nodded smugly, glaring at Carmela who rolled her eyes and turned away.

She approached a tired eyed teenaged girl, shovelling fries into its paper cup.

"Linda, let's switch." Carmela ordered.

"Do I have to?" Linda grumbled.

"You do if you want that ID." Carmela replied, grabbing the scoop from the girl's hands.

"Ugh..." Linda stalked to the front counter. Now it was her turn to put on a bright smile and turn into a literal blinding ray of sunshine.

Carmela scooped a handful of fries from the hot steaming tray in front of her and shoved them into a cardboard cup. She set them aside neatly on a rack, ready for the servers.

"Well that was wonderful." Jackson came up beside her, sighing.

"I bet it was. I really hate this shit hole sometimes. People like him make it worse." Carmela glanced around, glaring at the fuming man in line. She shoved fries into the cup.

"Of course you hate it. A city girl like you shouldn't be in a stuck up lil town like this. I didn't expect you to actually move here. Guess you really liked AJ when you first came here, like years ago." Jackson chuckled, scratching his ginger stubble.

"Got a problem with me moving here? I could leave if you want." Carmela smirked back at him.

"Nah, I ain't got a problem. Just surprised, is all. I mean, who moves from Chicago to Rooston? I didn't expect it." Jackson flipped a patty as he spoke.

"Me too..." Carmela muttered. She forcefully scooped the fries up and a bit of hot oil splashed onto her arm.

"Ah!" She jumped back, dropping the scoop. Jackson rushed near.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine." She walked away, holding her arm tight in her fingers. This day wasn't as bad as the others though. At least it kept her busy enough to not think about other things. The things she had left behind. Years ago.

Carmela stomped into the back room, grabbing the first aid kit. She opened it up, sticking a burn patch onto her hurting skin.

"Carmela, what happened?" A young bald-headed man appeared at the door, annoyed. The manager.

"Uh, hey, Valerio. It's nothi--"

"Hurt? Again?" He sighed, rubbing his temple. "What is with you? Why can't you do your job like the rest of the folks out there? It's not fucking rocket science!"

"I-I know... I'm sorry. The oil, it just sprayed up at me--" She explained.

"I don't care, Carmela. I honestly don't care. Just get out there and serve those people. Make yourself useful for once." He turned away from the door. "And you owe Jackson big time. I woulda thrown you out a long time ago if it weren't for him." He walked away from the door.

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