Awks. ✓

Chapter 2: Bitch, I Might Be.

I do not need this in my life right now. Not only did I leave the house fifteen minutes late, but the bus decided not to show up on time either.

See, here's the thing. My shift starts at ten on the dot. I should be awake no later than nine, get ready in less than forty five minutes, then take a fifteen minute bus ride to the stop closest to the café.

I left home at ten!!

I'm screwed. I'm screewwweeddddd. I'm going to walk in there, with all employees' eyes on me as the manager who was hiding behind the door yanks me from my hair and begins the process of skinning me alive. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if Bethany took out her phone and started recording the whole scene to post it on YouTube..

As soon as I pushed open the wooden doors of the café, I quickened my pace as I headed to the backroom, deliberately avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Once I reached the lockers aligned on the wall, I punched in my combination and threw my side bag in. After standing in front of the open locker for a while, I finally built up the courage to take a glimpse at the manager's office.

He wasn't there! He wasn't there sitting behind his desk, staring at me from behind the glass window. Phew.

I felt victorious, grinning as I closed my locker. I grabbed an apron from a hook on the opposite wall, throwing the loop over my head and pulling both loose ends behind my waist into a bow of some sort.

"You're late."

I automatically rolled my eyes at the sound of the annoying, nasally voice. Bethany's.

"No shit Sherlock. I'd love to stick around and chat but I have to get going." I managed to say before walking passed her.

"Don't think I'm going to cover for you when Mr Ramirez gets here." She replied.

I stopped in my tracks and looked back at her, plastering the fakest smile on my face as I pushed the door open. "I never asked you to."

***

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four customers in line at the till Dylan was behind and only one sitting in a booth.

"Hey Dyl," I greeted, patting him on the back of his shoulder, "I'll get that loner in the booth."

"Late again are we?" He asked as I grabbed a notepad and menu from next to the cash register.

"Bitch, I might be." I replied, resulting in me receiving a look of disapproval from the old lady he was serving. Dylan shook his head, laughing and I mumbled a quick apology before running off to my victim, I mean customer.

I was able to get his order and hand it to him in no time at all. He wasn't a prick or anything, but he didn't tip me, so we don't like him.

The manager walked in soon afterwards. He was a whooping thirty minutes later than I was. If anything, I should be the one screaming my head off at him but no, that's not how society works.

"Damn public transport. I was on the damn platform for almost a damn hour and not a single damn train came!!"

I bit down on my lip to keep myself from laughing. Mr Ramirez wasn't the best when it came to expanding one's vocabulary, but it was cute how he used 'damn' everywhere like it was the worst cuss word to ever exist.

"Language Sir." Someone exclaimed, which caused the laugh I had been holding in for so long to finally escape. He turned his attention to me with a face showing anything but amusement.

"It's funny how we both take different types of public transport and that lead to us both being late today. Hahaha, haha, ha."

Nice save Marianne. *mentally facepalms self*.

He walked closer to me and I could literally see my life flash before my eyes with every step he took towards me. This was it. This was the end. The end of a small town girl at the hands of the manager of some tiny café called 'Maroon'.

He stopped with little distance between us you'd think he was about to kiss me.

OH MY GOD I SWEAR IF THIS FREAKING PERV KISSES ME I WILL SCOOP HIS EYEBALLS OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS WITH A SPORK AND SHOVE THEM UP HIS A......

"Damn these people. They have one damn job to do, to get people to where they need to go and they can't even do it!" He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry Marie-Annie, I will talk to somebody about this. Yes, I will do just that." And he walked off to his office in the backroom.

"Wow. Good going Marianne." Dylan chuckled. "Or should I say, Marie-Annie." A couple of chuckles erupted from behind the counter.

"Ha. Ha. Hilarious." I replied, rolling my eyes.

Mr Ramirez had some sort of problem with my name, he couldn't pronounce it correctly if his freaking life depended on it. He ended up calling me two different names in one, none of them being my actual name.

I wonder if it's possible for someone to be allergic to a name. If anything, Mr Ramirez was DEFINITELY allergic to mine.

"It might have worked this time, but don't get used to it." Bethany scoffed, as she wiped one of the tables.

Dylan sent me a confused look and I just replied to it with a shrug because I honestly don't know what's up with that Bethany chick. It's like annoying me with that voice of hers is her sole purpose of living.

I survived my school years without getting bullied, I'm pretty sure I can handle her.

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A/N:

Going with the flow as usual, no clue where I'm going with this xD

Dedicated to happy_to_be ♡

Feel free to comment, vote, follow, whatever :')

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