Unexpected

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Milo and Otis are back at it again, bickering this time over politics from their routine stools at the counter. Behind them, Mira huffs at them while she fusses over a smug on a coffee pot. Meanwhile, I snicker at the scene— it's like a mom and her two sons.

As per usual, Angelo's nightly clientele differs from its daily one. I stare at the clock between the tables I waitress. There are hours left of my shift and I want nothing more than to go home. As Mira so gently put it, I look like a "sleep-deprived mummy" and I feel like one too.

On top of not having slept in days, I can't stop thinking about what Bre and Whales said to me. Their advice has been set in my brain all day like stone. Despite knowing what they were trying to tell me, I still can't help feeling like this is my fault.

I sigh, returning plates to the window just as my co-worker taps my arm. I look at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Jeez, clock out early, would you, Connie?" She advises. "You're eyes are all red and Angelo said you've been here since nine this morning. Go home, go get some sleep.

I roll my eyes. "I'm fine. Besides I can't sleep anyway."

Mira gives me a look. One I know all too well. Like a mother scolding her child. But the look breaks as the bell above the door chimes. She sighs. Before I can move to serve the customer, however, she grabs my arm.

"Hey. Just promise after this last guy you'll go home. I'll cover for you, and Angelo won't mind." She says.

I shake my head, hiding a smile. I do want to go home, I just know I won't be able to sleep. Well, actually, I don't really want to go home. With Megan and Paul looking for a place to live, they have decided to hold up at our place until they can get one of their own.

My sister nearly had a fit when she found all hers and Paul's clothes wouldn't fit in the same closet space. This in turn led to Megan putting half her belongings in my room which she now treats as an extension of her own.

I hardly have any privacy anymore and it doesn't help that on top of planning a wedding, Meg's pregnancy isn't doing us any favors either. Three months along and she's already complaining that she's eating for two and that her back aches.

If I ever got pregnant, my mom would surely slap me silly.

"Fine." I give in, chewing my bottom lip as Mira gives me a persuasive look. "Fine, I'll clock out after I serve this dude."

Mira smiles at me. "Okay." She says carefully, eyes twinkling. "Okay, deal."

"Deal," I confirm, digging into my apron pocket for my order pad and pen.

Sighing, I turn on my heel while tucking hair behind my ear. But the boy at the counter catches me off guard— sapphire eyes and midnight hair, a combination I know all too well. And one that is completely unexpected.

"Connie!" Curly Shepard says, seemingly just as shocked to see me as I am to see him.

"Oh! Hiya, Curly." I smile. "How are you?"

Regardless of my history with Tim, I still have a soft spot in my heart for his kid brother.

Curly smiles at me, resting his arms on the bar. "Not too bad. And yourself?"

I shrug. "Alright."

He nods, snagging a menu from one of the stands and pretending to scan over it. "Where've you been all this time?" He suddenly quizzes, cobalt eyes drifting up to meet mine. "The gang's been worried sick— though none of them would admit it." He adds, speaking more to himself.

My head falls. "I didn't mean to frighten anyone," I say shyly.

The kid shakes his head, greasy black curls falling over his forehead. He chuckles, "You had Tim running in circles for months, you know that." Curly says in a tone that suggests he finds humor in what I did to Tim.

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