The Waitress Is Waiting

Chapter Four ~ Record Store

When Heather woke up Marisol was staring down at her. She nearly screamed but Marisol covered her mouth.

"My God Heather it's just me. No need to freak out." she rolled her eye's, lifting her hand off her mouth.

"Oh it's okay. I just have this fear of people watching me sleep."

"Well you'll count me as an exception. Your boss called and you have the day off."

Heather shot up from the couch. "Wait a second...YOU talked to MY boss?"

"Don't worry about it. I told her you were asleep and really hard to wake up. She told me she noticed that you've had a really long week and she wanted you to have the day off."

"Wow. That's super nice and all but I really need the money..."

"Yeah I know. But let's forget about it today. Wanna go to the record store?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

~

Marisol got Heather a record player for her birthday that year and since then she'd been stuck on it. Her parents must have known too because they sent her their box of one's they'd had as kids. It was a bunch of classic rock and 80's pop. She loved every one of the one's she had. She knew she wouldn't be able to buy any today, (obviously), but it was always fun to see what they had. She'd probably just convince Marisol to get her one. She was the one that got her hung up on them anyway.

"You ran out of pizza." she said scavenging through her mini fridge.

"I know. You ate it all."

"Sorry. Not really. I need to order some more. All you have in here is salad dressing and plastic boxes filled old leftovers." She pulled one out, opened the lid and sniffed it. "Augh this smells awful! Do you even know what it is?"

"That's barbecue from a few days ago. You're really picky. Is pizza the only thing that tastes good to you?" She asked digging through her tiny closet.

"No. I just know what's good and what isn't. We're going to Waffle House. There's no way I'm eating anything in this fridge."

"Well thanks I guess. I wasn't really looking forward to leftovers."

She pulled out an old Van Halen concert sweatshirt she stole from her Dad before she moved. It was probably thirty years old by now. Marisol made a face when she saw her pull it on.

"That shirt is foul, Heather. You need new clothes too."

"Sorry 'bout it." She threw on some ripped up jeans.

Marisol walked over to her closet. "You really don't have anything nice looking in there do you."

"I have a few dresses. Like the one I wore last night."

"I don't even know where to start with that horrible dress. Oh my God."

"It's just a black formal..."

"It's your homecoming dress from your sophomore year of high school Heather. That's all I need to say. It's terrible. Why did you keep it in the first place?"

Heather shrugged. "I needed to wear a nice dress

She pulled out a dark blue sweater. "Wha-This is mine! I've been looking for this all over the place!"

"You're the one who said I needed new clothes."

"That didn't mean stealing my favorite things from my closet!"

She shrugged. "Hurry it up Marisol. I'm hungry."

"Yeah, yeah just give me a sec." She pulled the sweater over her head, still giving her an annoyed look. She pulled a black skirt out of her closet.