(3) Not the Same: An All Time Low Fanfiction Romance

Chapter 2: Drinks

        After getting into the driver's seat of my car after work, I pulled out onto the busy streets of Los Angeles. I hated how loud it was here, how there was always something going on. I was a homebody, even if I barely had time to be at the apartment anymore. It was times like these, driving on the crowded, bumper to bumper streets of California that I missed my small hometown in Maryland.

        My mind always wandered to home, wondering what it was like not, and if anything had changed. I always thought of the memories, and the friends I lost in the process of moving to this ridiculous city. None of them understood why I came, why I bothered to risk it all, to move to a city that I barely called home. None of them would udnerstand that I came here to move on, not to be stuck in a rut.        

        For such a short drive, finding my way to the restaurant was difficult with so much traffic. I found a parking spot near the back, noticing how crowded the place actually was. I was almost positive I wouldn't be able to find her in here.

        I maneuvered my way between cars and to the front door. I didn't bother to look at customers staring at my clothes, knowing they were dressed for the occasion. I wasn't going to dread that I couldn't impress people with my clothing. I learned over the years that I couldn't let strangers and their impressions of me affect me. If I did, this city would eat me alive.

       When I glanced around the resturant, the waitresses were moving swiftly between the tables. I would never be able to work as a waitress; I'd end up dropping things or knocking into someone who could get me fired. I stuck to the simple life of making coffee that I'd never be able to undestand why people drank.

        I almost turned around after a few minutes, giving up on finding her in such an intensely compact and noisy place. I heard her voice suddenly, just barely, over everything. She was calling my name, and I scanned the room one last time before seeing her sitting at the bar, smiling in my direction.

        She was dressed in a strapless teal shirt that flowed to her waist with a pair of white shorts and gladiator sandals. She looked like a million bucks, and I tried to ignore the fact that I've been living here for years and couldn't afford a single piece of clothing that Stella wore today. I felt my old high school nerves getting the best of me, making me feel self-conscious around Stella, something I hadn't felt in years. I never worried about what people thought because I always told myself that they don't know what I've been through, where I've been, where I'm from, or what I'm doing here. Being next to an old best friend that was so much better off than me made me feel like a failure.

        I decided to go through with it anyways, moving past the workers and customers. I gave her a small smile while she moved her purse from the chair next to her. I eased into it, noticing the soda and margarity placed in front of me. She leaned closer, voice normal speaking to me above the hustle of the bistro.

        "I just remember you didn't like drinking in high school, so I wasn't sure what to order you," she explained, and I laughed once with a small nod before pikcing up the alcoholic beverage and bringing it to my lips. She smiled brightly, taking a sip of hers. I guess I'd pay her back at the end of this get together.

        Seconds later, the bartender brought over two small appetizers of chips and salsa. I reached for them willingly, unable to control my hunger from not being able to eat most of the day. Stella joined me, and it almost reminded me of the first time we hung out at her house, eating chips together while talking about Alex and Zack and how we missed them while they were on tour.

        Wow, things really have changed.

        "So, what are you doing in LA?" Stella finally asked what I'd been anticipating. I knew she wanted to ask me why I took off at the end of that summer, why I never answered back her text messages, or Zack's for that matter, why everyone had started rumors about me and my best friend, Craig. I knew there were more questions under the simple ones she asked. She wanted to know how I could do it, how I could get up, leave, and never look back.