Peace in a Storm

3 - Audrey

"You're late," Max said simply as I jogged up to him. He was sitting on the front steps of the school with his hood pulled up over his head. Yesterday, I heard him promise Benny that he'd start walking with me to work. Usually, I was fine walking by myself, but my fathers were beginning to worry with the rise in gang activity lately. I didn't blame them for wanting to keep me safe, but I hated that they'd asked Max to be my escort.

"I was talking to my counselor about my grades," I explained.

"Five more minutes and I would've left your ass here," he grumbled, ignoring my excuse.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Can we just go now?"

We walked together in a peaceful silence to the restaurant. We entered through the back door and dropped off our coats in the break room. We went their separate ways to change into our custom work tees and reunited behind the counter. Max scanned over the buzzing crowd while I looked over the table assignments.

"Alright, you have tables 5 through 15, and I have tables 15-20, and 1-5. Don't fuck up our assignments again," I said as I tied an apron around my waist.

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, short stack." He roughly bumped my shoulder as he passed.

I shook my head, biting my tongue to refrain from replying. I pasted a generic smile on my face and headed out to greet my customers.

For most of my shift, I served my regulars. Mr. and Mrs. Brown on their weekly dinner date. Ms. Turner and her two young kids getting their milkshake fix. Dr. Maroney stopping in for dinner before teaching his evening class.

Since it was a weeknight, the restaurant wasn't extremely busy. Besides my regulars, only a few older couples and some groups of school-aged kids fluctuated through the restaurant.

I didn't mind the slower pace since we'd been busy all of winter break. It was nice being able to hear myself think while I was working. But, with less to do also meant more opportunities for boredom – particularly Max's boredom.

Ten minutes into our shift, he began bumping shoulders with me as he passed and tugging at my ponytail when I was in the middle of speaking. With each taunt, I sent him a kick in the shins. On a busy night, I would've settled for a sharp glare; but, due to the relaxed pace, I was willing to engage him in our little fight.

As I was clearing off one of my tables, I noticed Max talking to a bunch of private school girls. A brunette with glittering brown eyes held his attention. She was looking up at him beneath her long, dark lashes. A sensual smile lay on her perfectly glossed lips. Without breaking their gaze, she pulled the straw of her milkshake between her lips and explicitly wrapped her red lips around it.

"Maybe on Friday after my match, you and I could hangout or something," I heard Max say.

"Or something," she repeated, the straw still between her teeth.

"Max," I yelled before I could stop myself.

He looked up at me, his smile immediately falling. Hints of a scowl appeared around his lips, but I didn't care.

"Can you help me with this?" I asked, gesturing to the giant mess on the table.

He opened his mouth to respond, but his brunette's hand was in his back pocket before words could come out. She pulled out his tiny order book and scribbled on a blank page.

"Here's my number," she said, holding black book out to him. "Text me when you're finished working."

I gritted my teeth, the nerves of my stomach clenching. "Max," I called again.