𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 |𝟏𝟖+(HOLD)

III

   

I sat for hours just watching her tend to other customers—the way her curls bounced when she got too excited, the way her hips swayed as she walked. It was a sight for sore eyes.

    The place was getting more packed by the second. I watched as her face became flustered, overwhelmed by the crowd. I stood up, ready to offer a helping hand.

    "Hey, l-let me help y-you," I said. She flashed me a bright smile, relief washing over her delicate features. She rushed to the kitchen and handed me an apron.

    "It's pretty simple." She ran me through a few things quickly before going back to serving customers. One after another, I did my best to take each person's order correctly. I owed her—this was the least I could do to pay her back.

    After an hour, the rush finally died down, with only a few customers coming in at a time.

    "Thanks so much for helping me," she said, smiling at me and flashing her pearly white teeth. I gave her the best smile I could muster. "Wanna work here permanently?" she asked, wiping down tables and swaying her hips to the tune playing in the café.

    To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was so happy I could cry.

    "R-really?" I asked, doubtful of the offer.

    "Of course! You've been a big help." She finished cleaning, placing the wet towel on the counter before leaning against it. I watched her every movement, from twirling her finger in her hair to her slight foot tapping. She finally looked my way, catching me staring at her. I quickly looked away, blushing slightly.

    "What?" she giggled lightly, covering her smile with her hand.

    "Why do y-you want to b-be my friend?" The word "friend" felt foreign to me. I'd never had the chance to make one—I didn't really know what a friend was.

    "Why not? Everyone needs a friend, right?" I envied her in so many ways. She was always so happy, energetic, always looking on the bright side of things. "If I'm being honest, I don't have many friends." She smiled at me before looking out the window. "People said I was overbearing, annoying, and dumb. They hated being around me because I was always so happy—too happy, they said." She took a deep breath, looking my way again, giving me a pained smile.

    "I-I don't have f-friends," I said. Her eyes went wide, shocked by my statement.

    "What? Why?" she asked, her eyes still wide. I wanted to tell her, tell her why I had no one, but I didn't want her to pity me. I wasn't ready to show that side of myself yet. I swallowed hard.

    "It's j-just easier that w-way," I said softly, feeling vulnerable. "No one can h-hurt you i-if you don't l-let them in, right?" I watched as pain flooded her features. I didn't want her sympathy—I didn't deserve it. "I've l-let people in, a-and they always l-let me down." I looked down at the floor, my vision blurry with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. I blinked rapidly, fighting them back. I couldn't look her in the eyes, knowing I'd see pity there. I didn't need it.