Scarlett, the Found One

Chapter 48: Maya

I locked my bike in the rack and walked into the diner, my nerves a bit jittery. The same scruffy man from earlier was at the register, closing it for the night. He looked up and gave me a nod. "Welcome back," he said gruffly. "I run a tight ship here, and there's a lot of work that needs to be done."

He introduced himself as Stan and added, "I ask no questions as long as the work gets done."

"Fair enough," I replied, trying to muster a confident smile.

He pointed towards the bathroom. "Start with unclogging the toilets."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why are multiple toilets clogged?"

Stan shrugged. "The chili has to go out one way or another."

I stifled a groan and headed to the bathroom. It was going to be a long night. I tied my hair back, rolled up my sleeves, and took a deep breath before tackling the first toilet. The smell hit me hard, and I gagged slightly, but I pushed through it. This wasn't exactly the glamorous life, but it was necessary. Besides, I'd been through worse.

As I worked, my mind wandered back to Scarlett. I hoped she was okay and not worrying too much about me. Cleaning toilets wasn't my idea of a great time, but knowing I was helping us stay afloat made it worth it. Plus, there was something satisfying about doing a job, even a dirty one, and doing it well.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally finished unclogging the last toilet. I washed my hands thoroughly and took a moment to catch my breath. Stan walked in, checking on my progress. "Nice work," he said with a nod of approval. "Now, let's get those floors mopped."

"Sure thing," I replied, grabbing the mop and bucket. As I moved through the diner, cleaning up spilled food and sticky spots, I found a rhythm. It wasn't so bad once I got into it.

After finishing with the toilets, I checked the clock on the wall. It was midnight. Stan, who had been watching me from the doorway, nodded his head in approval, his unibrow rising just a little bit. He seemed surprised at how thorough and fast I'd gotten the work done.

"Military school, huh?" he joked, a rare hint of amusement in his voice.

"Something like that," I replied with a small grin.

Stan gestured to the overflowing trash bins. "Next up, take all that out to the dumpster. Smells like shit...almost."

I nodded and got to work, lifting five heavy bags of dripping food waste and hauling them out back. The smell was overwhelming, but I pushed through it, reminding myself why I was doing this.

As I tossed the last bag into the dumpster, I noticed Stan standing nearby, lighting up a cigarette. He took a deep drag and then offered one to me. I declined awkwardly, shaking my head. "No, thanks. Gotta keep my lungs clean."

He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly impressed. "Good for you," he said, taking another drag. "Not many your age have that kind of sense."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Had my fair share of bad habits. Kicked them for a reason."

Stan exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes distant for a moment. "Fair enough," he said, then shifted the topic. "So, where you from?"

"Here and there," I replied vaguely, not wanting to get into details. "Just passing through for now until my car is out the shop."

He nodded, accepting my non-answer. "Well, you did good tonight. Got the place cleaner than I've seen in a while."

"Thanks," I said, genuinely appreciating the compliment. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yep," Stan said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Same time."

I nodded and turned to head back to the motel. As I walked, I felt a sense of accomplishment mixed with exhaustion.

When I finally got back to the motel room, Scarlett was already asleep, her breathing soft and even. I slipped into bed beside her, careful not to wake her. As I closed my eyes, I couldn't help but feel hopeful. We were making it work, somehow.

When I finally got home, Scarlett was fast asleep, her soft snores filling the room. She looked so peaceful, and I couldn't help but smile. I wondered if I would tap into another memory or dream if we touched. Curiosity got the better of me, and I gently placed my hand on her cheek. But nothing happened. No visions, no strange sensations—just the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers.

Sighing, I headed to the bathroom to shower off the gunk from work. The cold water felt amazing, washing away the grime and stress of the day. I let my mind wander. I thought about the diner, about Stan, and about the bizarre situation Scarlett and I found ourselves in. We were making it work, but the uncertainty of it all gnawed at me.

After drying off, I slipped into bed under the covers beside Scarlett. She shifted slightly, but her eyes remained closed. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. While I was happy about a job well done, I couldn't shake the worry about the others. Would we ever get found? Would we make it back to Vastoria in time?

I glanced at Scarlett, her face serene in the dim light. She deserved so much more than this—than running and hiding, scraping by in an unfamiliar town. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close,

I tried to go to sleep with the thoughts swirling in my head but they never did settle and I barely got a wink of sleep.