intoxicated

six

"All this  driving is driving me crazy." - Troye Sivan, EASE

When I wake up the next morning, my head miraculously doesn't hurt, and I don't feel the need to throw up either. Neither do I have an embarassing snapchat story or sent drunk texts. Feeling content with all that, I head downstairs to get some breakfast, and proudly decline the headache pill my brother prepared for me. He gives me a surprised look and shoots me a smile before leaving the house to meet a friend.

It is now that I remember my phone call with Jack. Luckily, I didn't say anything too embarassing, except that one little slip where I told him I couldn't stop thinking about him. I also feel a little sting (that I really shouldn't feel) when I think about how he was probably with a girl. I'm sure he wasn't at a party - it was way too quiet for that - and why else would he still be up in the middle of the night? I'm not sure what his job is, but what are the chances of him working on Saturday nights? Still, I can't help but be a little proud of myself that he took the time to talk to me, although he was most likely with another girl.

Okay. No. Stop thinking about him, Ashley.

After taking a quick shower, I change into my work outfit and take the bike to Emfield's, the diner I work in. The ride there only takes a little more than fifteen minutes, but by the time I've arrived in the restaurant I've already cursed my brother in every language possible that he had to take the car today, the one time it was windy as f.uck. And my hair probably looks like sex hair now. (Which I'm sure my sexist boss won't mind anways.)

The first few hours there only are few costumers, until the amount of people coming in picks up rapidly at around seven, since most of them are stopping by to get something to eat before heading off to a party. I've only been working here for about a month, so I don't really know any of the costumers, but so far I haven't been able to remember any regulars - though I'm not even sure they have any regulars - which is sad, because I had always loved chatting with regulars at Casey's Corner, the café I had previously worked in but unfortunately had to shut down. I liked working there so much better than at Emfield's, everyone was nice to each other and the atmosphere was always relaxed - it felt rather like a catch up with relatives than a job. While at Emfield's I barely know the names of my coworkers and the air is always filled with tension and stress.

I had originally started working mainly to get away from home for a while, not because we needed the extra money. But now that my father isn't here to support us financially anymore, James and I started supporting mom's stewardess wage to pay rent. I wasn't exactly sure what James did at his job, but he sure earned a damn lot. I think he worked in an office or something. Besides, it couldn't hurt having some money on our hands, since Mom was barely ever home to lend us some money, due to her job as a stewardess. So my brother and I were basically on our own - not that I would want it any other way. James is - and has always been - the most important person in my life. He's the person I undoubtedly love the most, and if you asked me to die for him now, I would.

"Someone just sat down on table four - that's yours." Emma - one of the nicer coworkers here - snaps me out of my trance. "Damn, why do you always get the cute ones? It's not fair!" She whines. When I turn around to see who the "cute ones" are, my stupid heart starts racing, because at table four - my table - sits Jack fu.cking Ritson.

I sigh, really not liking the fact that he's here, especially not in this god damn Dirndl thing my boss makes us all wear. "I know him, he's friends with my brother."

"Does your brother look like him, too?" Emma teases me, and I jokingly roll my eyes at her before telling myself to calm the he.ll down and act cool.