BOOTH BOY

Chapter 1 - Delicate

My hand arcs in a wide-sweeping movement, the service cloth perfectly folded into a long rectangle gripped between my thumb and the rest of my fingers. The crumbs slide off the vinyl and land on my serving tray. I swab the table one more time just to be sure and then spin on my heel, narrowly missing sweet Mrs Stewart, on my way to the kitchen.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry." I pause for a second to make sure she's alright. From the corner of my eye, she looks a little disorientated but not injured in any way. "It's no problem, sweetie." She hasn't even managed to graze the elbow she'd been reaching for before I'm out of sight again. I don't even feel half as bad about it as I should.

The kitchen is a picture of disarray. Everybody's fluttering about, taking orders, hovering over the stoves or in the case of my best friend, sitting on the countertop eating orange peels. Lucas walks past, flicks his wrist and smacks her arm with his kitchen towel. "Get off my work table, Baros!"

Marina flicks her bright blonde hair over her shoulder and jumps off, chewing furiously. "All right, all right. No need to be violent."

"My last table is done!", I say to announce my presence. Marina spins around, her eyes wide, and shoves the last of her orange peels in her mouth.

"Then what the Hell are you waiting for!? You have a dinner party to attend!"

She licks her fingers and then hurries over and helps me out of my waitress apron which she then hands over to Liz, the waitress working the next shift, and begins marching me for the kitchen door. "You're late already, Lee, you might want to actually make an effort in walking!"

"Have a good time, babes!", Lucas calls behind us. The rest of the kitchen chimes in after him.

I wave them all goodbye over Marina's shoulder. Lucas throws me a kiss and I catch it just before I am pushed out of the kitchen. We both greet Martha on our way out and ignore Candice. Martha asks us to enjoy our evening, especially me because I don't get out quite enough, and although we smile and laugh, I'm quite offended.

As we grab our coats from the coat stand at the door, I turn to Marina, ruffled.  "You don't think I don't get out enough, do you?"

Marina slips her tan cotton coat on -it cannot be half as warm as mine -and shakes her head at me. She looks like a detective in a 50's noir film. "Of course not," I find myself nodding along to her words, "that would be an understatement."

I admit a gasp is quite the melodramatic reaction and yet, I gasp and elbow her for her insolent comment.

Marina jumps out of my range, giggling. "I'm sorry!"

I push a dark tendril of hair from my face and huff to myself, crossing my arms and glaring at her. Her blue eyes twinkle with amusement but she places one arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my cheek, "Sorry, love. No harm intended." My frowns drops and a reluctant smile twists my lips.

Without moving her arm from my shoulder, Marina uses her free hand to reach for the door at the same time it is pulled open from the other side. Breen Jeong walks in, the tip of her pert nose as red as a cherry, and her perfect plump cheeks flushed. She looks up at us, a hesitant smile on her face and Marina's arm drops from around my shoulder in zero-point-one seconds. "Hi, Breen."

Marina clasps her hands behind her back and rocks back on her heels.

I unfold my arms and subtly place my hand over my mouth to hide the mocking smile that's dying to be freed. So, the Great Marina Baros has a crush. I can tell from the way she's staring at Breen. It's freaking adorable. I only manage to stop myself from clapping my hands and squealing loudly because I'm sure that would scare Breen, who is particularly meek, away.