The Selection of Prince Creed

CASEY

"Casey, you uh, okay?" Sutton asked from beside me, making me jump about a mile in the air.

"Yeah, fine, why?" I choked out but it was clear I wasn't. Since the announcement of the new Selection, I had been on edge. Well, no, since I'd sent in my application I had been one edge.

"You've been scrubbing the same spot on the grill for ten minutes. I think it's clean," I could tell he was trying to tease me, trying to get me to relax, and it only rankled me more.

"No, it's still greasy because no one else takes the time to properly clean it," I huff and turn back to my scrubbing. I was lying. It was obvious that the grill was pretty much pristine but cleaning was keeping me sane, keeping me moving. I had hoped to leave early from work tonight, to make it home on time to catch The Report. Tonight they were announcing the Selected but thanks to Manny calling off for the third time this week, I was stuck here, at the shop. I'd really wanted to watch that Report and now, glancing up at the clock; I was too late. Now the rest of the world knew and I was left in the dark.

Not that I thought I stood a chance.

I heard the bell above the door clang distantly and continued my scrubbing. Technically the shop didn't close for another hour, but after a certain time, we turned everything off but the ovens.

"Hey man, take a seat anywhere but just so you know, the grill and fryer are both off. Oven food only," I heard Sutton greet our customer, our only customer for the past two hours.

"That's fine. I'll just have a couple of slices and a water," I heard the customer reply but I still didn't stop my scrubbing. Sutton could handle this, he was the manager after all. I could hear Sutton moving about, getting the stranger his food then he came back just as I was calling my assault on the grill quits.

"Hey Casey? I'm going to go in the back and work on next week's schedule. Mind keeping an eye on the front? I think the counter could use a good scrub," his dimple was back. He was teasing me again and my nerves grated. That was the tone he'd use when we were together, when he was trying to make everything okay.

I only nodded and washed the grill grease from under my nails before heading back out front. A quick glance around the shop told me there really wasn't much to do. Our one customer, a guy with dark hair who looked to be about my age, was seated at the middle booth against the window, alternating between looking out onto the street and focusing on his food. I sigh and pull the parmesan and pepper flake shakers, preparing to fill them for tomorrow. Ten minutes passed and every shaker was filled and the customer was still there. Not that that was surprising. What was surprising was that he barely touched his food, and he alternated between watching me and watching outside.

"So," Sutton started as he came out of the back after twenty minutes and leaned against the counter just a little too close.

"What?" I ask. Sutton smiled at me but I wasn't having it. Not today, not while my nerves were so ragged already. I just wanted to get home and sleep... and know. It was the not knowing that was killing me most. His smiled dropped as he moved more into my line of sight. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I swear from the corner of my eye I saw our customer tense up. I took a step back, "You were saying something?"

"Yeah," Sutton rubbed the back of his head like he always does when he's trying to appear calm. "What is the likelihood of Cal actually showing up for his shifts? Should I still schedule him?"

I sigh and drop my head into my crossed arms on the counter. "Yes, schedule him but keep us on different shifts, just in case?"

Sutton sighs and shakes his head. I know exactly what he's going to say next. We have had this same argument time and again, "Case, how long are you going to let this go on?"