𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒆 | ✔

3 | Face of the Past

THIS WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON Culver's was less populated than normal; usually, there would be fifteen people, give or take, at a time. But so far there had been ten at most and the place had been open for three hours. Lottie wouldn't admit it, but she was glad for the quiet. With everything that went on, she was still uneasy. 

As she wiped down a table in the far back, she was deep in thought. Before going to bed last night, she had made sure to check every window in the house. They were all clean. Yet, somehow, those muddy fingerprints were there by morning. 

But how?

Lottie finished up with the table, then looked around and sighed. There were no more tables to do, which meant it was time for the inevitable: cleaning the restrooms. Head down, she made way for the female restroom to the far right when she heard a voice. 

"Lottie?"

Lottie didn't bother stifling her groan. "What is it, Hazel? You should be at the register. We might get a customer."

Hazel's eyes pierced into hers. "This place is pretty much empty. Besides, we've got Dave working a register just in case." Then she put her hands to her hips. "But this isn't about work; it's about you-"

"-now's not the time."

Hazel gently tugged her to the front, away from the customers. "Normally, you say a thing or two, but you haven't and it's already 1." She kept her tone low. "You know, you're about as quiet as Dave and he's always mute, so spill."

"Well, before this job, I've been at McDonald's since seven and I'm there till eleven," Lottie sneered. "Then I must be here by twelve just to make a living. So I'm sorry, Hazel, if I'm not always in the mood for your nonsense."

"Hey-"

"-and to think I'll be here until seven."

"That's my point."

Lottie quieted down, searching her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You work five days a week, girl, so you might as well make the most of it." With that, Hazel shook her head. "Well, I'll be here if you ever decide to tell me." 

"You know, Joseph's a chatterbox and he's been just as quiet as me."

Her co-worker paused, glanced back, then chuckled. "You and I go back three years, which makes us friends by convenience. Joseph, on the other, I've known for a month. Not to be rude, but... I don't care for the guy." But then her face stiffened. "Though, I admit, it is rather weird..."

-

Two hours had gone by and Lottie wasn't having it.

Heavy-lidded, Lottie cleared away another table as she bit back her words. It wasn't worth causing a scene over, she decided, but soon curiosity got the better of her.

She finished the task, then paused, contemplating, and turned around. "What is it?"

As before, the lone man continued to drum the table, his grey eyes narrowed at her. In the next moment, he stopped, considering a response. "Nothing. I'm just sitting here."

"Yeah, but you've been staring at me for the last ten minutes," she sneered back, then lowered her voice. "Is it... my scar?

"Oh, no." His words were monotone, his eyes never leaving hers. "I was just admiring the view."

Lottie scoffed, barely holding it together. "I've had enough boyfriends to know that it never works. Relationships aren't worth it, so get something for here or to-go, then leave." She didn't get enough sleep for this.