poison - lrh

five

It was an unusually cold thursday evening, and no matter how hard she scrubbed, the glass still seemed to have an ugly smear on the edge. Cameron sighed, reaching up to slot it onto the glass shelf. She caught her reflection in the mirror behind the varying sizes of crystalware - the bags under her eyes were prominent and her normally rosy cheeks looked pale and muted.

She shuffled from one foot to another and eyed each customer, beginning to play her favourite game to pass the time. She'd stare at someone, and think up some sort of story, what they'd been up to, why they were at Martino's. A young man, in his early twenties, sipped a Daquiri in her favourite spot besides the bar - a cosy emerald green suede couch in the far corner. When he'd ordered, he looked like he didn't drink very much, and Cameron imagined him swallowing the sweet alcohol for some specific reason; maybe it was his ex's favourite drink or he'd just realised he'd been invited to his popular friend's wedding and needed practice with beverages other than Bud Light and cheap vodka. She watched him scroll absentmindedly on his phone and his eyes trail to the group girls on the table opposite. Besides them, the bar was empty save for a few others that were less interesting to watch. Unsurprisingly, Cameron found middle aged, beer drinking regulars boring. Not all regulars, she thought.

As if her last thought had been a spell spoken aloud, a certain man strutted in, curls hanging over a phone. Cameron coughed slightly, continuing to scrub the glass. 

"Well hello."

"Jesus, are you feeling alright?" 

Cameron stared at him blankly and he stared back, at her eyes, those lips, the freckles on her nose.

"What's your poison, is it my turn to say that today?"

Cameron laughed, turning around to put the glass away but she froze mid way. Eyes wide, the greatest idea suddenly hit her like a flash of lightning. 

Holy shit, she thought. That's it.

She held her hands up in front of her, a 'wait' gesture, as she scrambled to get the note pad she normally used to take long orders she wouldn't remember off the top of her head. Clicking a biro, she scribbled POISON on the first sheet in inky black. Luke's laugh broke her thought process and she snapped back into reality.

"What's going on?" he stared at her, grinning, eyebrows raised almost above his low hanging curls.
"Nothing, nothing," Cameron breathed, a wide smile fixed on her face.

"Come on, what was it all about?"
Cameron shook her head, pushing the crystal glass towards him over the counter. After five minutes she finally realised how stupid she looked, and that she somehow owed him an explanation if she didn't want to look like an idiot for the rest of the night.

"Ok, fine, let's do this, I ask a question, and you get to ask me one back."
Cameron bit her lip, flicking her eyes up at his azure irises that were looking straight forwards.

"Fine then. But before you ask me what the fuck I was doing before, I'll just answer it now. I'm writing this... play thing. And you might've given me an idea, and I did not want to forget it."

He watched her pick up another glass and start to rub it clean and nodded slightly.
"Do I get to read it when it's done?"
"Do you want to?"
"I mean, I gave the idea."

Cameron chuckled and felt her cheeks turn pink at his cockiness. Why is he so charming, and most of all why am I falling for it? She silently thanked human nature and the fact that people don't have the ability to read people's minds.

He coughed, and she turned, embarrassed, and as if he really had read her mind, smirked.

"Okay, so I get to actually answer a question, because I didn't ask you that so-"
Cameron sighed, and pretended to be more interested in the glass she was cleaning than the way that his face was suddenly very close to hers.

"Do you live on your own? Or with your parents?" he sat back, looking like he was genuinely curious.

"Pretty personal."
"What do you want me to ask? What's your favourite colour?"
"It's green, actually."

Is it? Or was it the exact shade of blue of his eyes? Or maybe golden brown like that messily perfect hair? Cameron stared at him regardless, not breaking her gaze.

"I live on my own usually but my friend's staying over right now. Does that answer your question?"

She paused just long enough for him to nod but not long enough to let him speak.

"So I get two. Favourite song and... are you a dog or cat person?"


"Probably my own music- no I'm kidding," he laughed again, a childlike giggle that made Cameron want to throw her head back and laugh with him.

"I can't decide, there's too many. And I'm probably a dog person, I want a dog, but my mate has a cat, and we live together so she's mine basically."

Cameron asked what the cat's name was, concentrating on the glass again to distract from looking at him like some 5th graders crush.

"Phoenix. She's ginger."


"Aw, that's so cute."

"She used to hate me, like so much. She'd follow me around and then growl and hiss and then she got used to me after a while. She's a diva."

Cameron smiled, trying to think of another question that wasn't 'do you have a girlfriend' or 'wanna hang out sometime that isn't my shift'.

"You know, this sounds like some sort of first date."

Cameron pursed her lips and then choked out a laugh, while Luke sipped his tequila as if he hadn't said anything, leaning back on his stool.

"I mean-"

Cameron set the glass on the countertop, shaking with silent laughter. It wasn't that funny, but it was, because she knew he said it because she looked stupid and she was pretty sure he knew she thought he was the most attractive man that had ever walked through Martino's glass doors. She bit her lip and felt his gaze as she walked over to serve another customer.

"Do you like working here?" he asked, twirling his ring clad finger along the rim of the glass.

"I mean, yeah, I guess, but it's not like something I wanna do forever."

"Guess that play has gotta work out then."

She scratched the back of her hand with her fingernail. Out of nowhere the moody bar lights weren't dark enough and Luke was staring at her too hard because she knew it had to work out. It had to, but the chances that it would were slim and it felt like someone spelling out your dreams in front of you and then making fun of them. For some reason Cameron never figured what it would be like to work at Martino's for as long as she liked, call Astford home and keep renting the third floor flat like she had been. She wasn't waiting for anything, she didn't need to, but the play she had started meant more than mopping floors and serving drinks because it was hers. She could do what she wanted with it, it was her unfinished story.

"I guess."

"You'll let me read it then?"

"Sure."

They spoke for a while, answering more questions, laughing some more, and Cameron noticed Luke being friendlier, more open, as if he wasn't just flirting with some girl at a bar but getting to know someone properly. He spoke about his music, not giving away much except that he was recording an ep and that he had only released two singles and that everything was 'more real' now he'd got signed at a local label.

Cameron found out that he was from around town, and he'd gone to her high school's rival on the east side of Astford. He listened to him talk about the friend he shared a flat with. She found herself stopping cleaning cups and asking questions, instead just watching him, his eyes, the way his cheeks rose when he smiled, noticing his habit of biting his lip in between sentences.

When he got up an hour and a half later Cameron asked him twice if he wanted another drink.

"Come on, you only had one round today."
"Is this because you're doing your job or just because you want me to stay.
"Both," she smiled, as if the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach was starting to show on her face too.

"I'll text you okay?"

She put a hand up saying goodbye, eyes fixed on him walking out onto the street until he disappeared around a corner.

When he was gone she finally realised the time and how many glasses she still had to clean. She leaned back on the counter behind the bar, suddenly bored without his company.

"Cameron, you working overtime or what?"

She looked up behind a curtain of dark hair, in the middle scrubbing a table with the sharp smelling pink spray. She saw Isaac, the other waiter who often shared her shifts staring back at her.

"It's Wednesday, your shift ended an hour ago," he said, glancing at his phone.

"Oh, sorry. God, forgot what day it was."

"Yeah I can tell. I'll close up, ok?"

* * *

"Wait, it's Thursday right?"

Cameron finished a mouthful of cereal and rolled her eyes at Agatha.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"What? Oh- oh because of you overworking yesterday?"

"Is overworking a word?" Ace asked, attempting to slide in two cookies into his backpack.

"I saw that-" Agatha faked glaring at him, and ran towards him, scooping him up and tickling him. Cameron stared at a spoonful of cornflakes and yawned. Agatha pushed her trademark yellow glasses up her nose and tied her shoulder length hair into a small ponytail. A lime green chunky cardigan was draped across her shoulders, with a darker green skirt and stripy socks that reached up to her knees.

"Come on, you're getting the bus today, have you got everything in your bag?"

"Yeah," Ace glanced at his sister. "Is she..." he paused, searching for the right word, "Hungover?"