Meet Me Half Way

Chapter 1

I always thought about death. Where do we go? What happens? I have heard so many explanations over my 21 years that everything became jumbled. I'd like to believe the place we go is happy and stress-free, where there is no evil, only pureness. I want to think that's where I'd go if I died.

"Harley, we need more drinks at table 8," Hannah shouted from the kitchen.

"Okay, got it," I replied.

I spun my way out of the kitchen with four drinks in hand, humming along to the Brett Young song playing in the bar. I loved my job, I loved my coworkers, and I loved my customers. It was nice to have a routine; it was a true comfort. Even with the dim lighting and cramped seating area, I was happy. The bar wasn't huge, but I'd much rather work down here than in the upstairs restaurant. The owners thought it would be a good idea to separate the bar and restaurant in case families wanted to enjoy a meal out and not get into an altercation with someone who had had too much to drink. There are too many instances like that already around here. Why add to it?

"Here you go, ladies and gents," I said as I passed out the drinks.

"I feel like you are here every time we stop in for a bite," One of the girls said.

I recognized her; she always wore her dark hair in a ponytail every time she came in.

I grinned, "I work every night. I have to pay off my college debt somehow."

They all looked at me like I had a 3rd eye. I thought I heard one of the guys snicker but covered it quickly with a cough.

I laughed, "Truly, I love working here anyway."

"Just don't miss out on your college experience," the one who laughed said as I walked away.

I locked myself in the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Maybe they did have a right to be concerned. I had bags under my eyes, my face was pale, my hair was in a knot of a bun, not to mention greasy, and I had forehead stress wrinkles. New stains I hadn't noticed earlier seemed even more noticeable on my black tee shirt than I had hoped. I fiercely scrubbed at the colors with a damp paper towel, but it only left my shirt with flakes of paper towel attached, which seemed even worse than how my shirt was before. Finally, I splashed some water on my face, hoping to make me look more alert. I took a deep breath as I opened the door and headed back out into the loud music and the crowd of people.

"You good, Harley?" Hannah whispered as she put a hand on my shoulder to keep me from walking away.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled.

"That fake smile isn't going to convince me. I'm off in 5 minutes. Try to get back to the dorm earlier tonight."

I laughed as I took a step back, leaving more room between us, "I think you want me to be back early so I don't wake you up when I get back."

She gave me a faint smile, "Well, that too, but I care about you, Harley. You need to stop overworking yourself."

"I'm fine, Hannah," I insisted.

She shrugged, "Whatever you say."

"Harley, I need you to cover table 10," My manager shouted.

I plastered on a smile as I grabbed my notepad and walked over.

"Hi guys, my name is Harley. What can I get to drink for you guys tonight."

It was a table with three guys; I'm pretty sure I've seen one of them around campus before. The one closest to me smiled at me; he had black hair that was definitely in need of a trim. I'm pretty sure his name was Luke.