Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter One

"I hadn't found out yet that mankind consists of two very different races, the rich and the poor. It took me...and plenty of other people...twenty years and the war to learn to stick to my class and ask the price of things before touching them, let alone setting my heart on them."

― Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of the Night

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Chapter One:

I'm not good with guys.

My first boyfriend was stabbed 12 times, steps from his home. My second boyfriend died of a terminal disease, but not until he was eventually paralyzed by the tumor growing on his spine. My third cheated on me with my closest friend, stranding me in Tijuana and driving off with my belongings in the car. And I won't even mention my fourth. I choose to pretend he never existed. And he might've as well be considered fictional—especially after I found out that he was lying about his name and hiding a child.

Like I said, I'm not good with picking them. My friends have coined the term 'boyfriend addict' and 'bad boy addict' but I consider that an insult. I'm not addicted to getting hurt and I'm not obsessed with getting a boyfriend. I just so happen to fall for guys with the worst qualities or terrible, terrible luck.

That doesn't stop me from staring, though. People watching was my favorite pastime. 

Working in the heart of downtown San Francisco had introduced me to see some strange things, making the unimaginable possible. Today for example, a man in a tailored and pressed Armani suit shuffled his feet into our restaurant and fell into one of the barstools, despite the fact that it was only noon. He had on a gold and platinum watch that I could live off for months. The fact that he had stumbled into our restaurant of all places was strange, if not surprising.

I exchanged curious looks with Akin, a coworker and friend of mine, as the man ordered a pint. Originally, I had thought someone would join him, but nearly an hour and a half passed, and that pint was gone and another one was on its way. Time stretched throughout the afternoon with him still on his barstool. Nightfall finally came, and still, he drank alone.

"Josh and I have got a bet going on that the guy over there in the bar is going to either puke or pass out before he hits his fifth pint," Akin said from beside me. I was back in the kitchen, waiting for my tables order to get cooked. Even though I was the manager, I had to do some waitressing because one of our workers called in sick today. Typically I was in the kitchen for most of the day.

"Want to put in a wager?" Akin asked.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought. "That's low. Even for you."

"Sweetheart, I never said I was a saint." He winked, smiling weakly. "Besides, we needed something as a pastime back here. It's fun."

"It's cruel."

"No it's not. It's completely harmless." He pulled out a wade of money in front of him. "Do you want in on it or not? Simple question, Maddie."

"I'll pass," I huffed and went for the plate one of the chefs had prepared. I added it on to my tray and walked back out to my table. After setting the food down, I asked if there was anything else the couple I was hosting would like. They shook their heads no, and I told them I'd be available whenever they needed me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Layla waving me down from near the front of the kitchen door. Layla usually took care of the tables left of the restaurant, so I was confused on to why she was on this side and not tending to her tables. Changing directions, I went over to where she was.