Unlovable

Prologue: Truer Words

"Order up," Benny the cook called from the small service window in the diner where Darcie worked.

Eighteen year old Darcie Houston had been working at the dingy truck stop for a little over six months, ever since she aged out of the foster care system and was left to fend for herself.

She liked the job okay, aside from the grubby hands of passing through truckers that always seemed to find themselves pressed against her backside.

"Careful of that one," her best friend, Kimmie, said as she maneuvered her way around Darcie to pick up her order. "He's all hands."

Darcie followed Kimmie's gaze to a lone trucker in the back booth. He sat guzzling a bottle of Bud Lite, his eyes taking turns resting on the individual waitresses as they made their rounds and served their customers.

Luckily, he wasn't seated at one of Darcie's tables.

"Hey, Darc," another waitress, Krystal, called as Darcie loaded her hands with discarded plates from a recently vacated table.

"Yeah?" Darcie replied, stacking a few cups on top of one another.

"Sly said Tommy hasn't stopped crying since I left at noon. Do you think you can cover my tables for a little while so Sly and I can take him to the doctor?" Krystal begged, the look of a worried new mother etched into every feature of her face.

Darcie smiled at her friend sympathetically. It was a slow day anyhow.

"That's fine, Krys. No worries," Darcie replied as she walked through the small dining room and to the kitchen to drop off the dirty dishes.

Krystal followed her, untying her apron.

"Thank you so much. I definitely owe you one."

Darcie smiled as she wiped her hands on her own apron.

"You don't owe me anything. Just go take care of your son."

Krystal grabbed her purse off of the coat rack by the back door and tossed her apron into a small laundry basket, waving briefly at Darcie before she disappeared to the front of the restaurant and out of Darcie's line of vision.

"Did Krystal just leave?" Kimmie asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Darcie was refilling salt and pepper shakers and looked up at Kim only briefly.

"Tommy's sick," Darcie explained.

"You mean Sly's sick of being a Daddy?" Kim corrected, causing Darcie to shrug.

"That's none of our business," Darcie replied. "Besides, it's not like I couldn't use the money. Rent's due in three days and I'm still a good two hundred short."

"I already told you that I would loan you the money, Darc," Kim replied softly as she filled drinks for a new table.

"And I already told you that I'm going to figure it out. Besides, don't you need that money for your P.I exam?"

Kim had taken all the classes online and now she just needed to take the test at the local Community college. The exam wasn't cheap, but Darcie had no doubt in her mind that once Kim took it, she'd become a certified Private Investigator, and she was proud of her friend.

"I could always take the next one," Kim insisted.

"Six months from now, Kimmie? No way. I'll figure it out. Don't worry about me so much."

"Order up," Benny called from behind them.

"That was Krystal's table. The creepy guy in back. Want me to take it?" Kim asked.