Don't Try the Noodles

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Bailey

It's been a long day. As happy as I am to have had Emma around the restaurant today, her high level of energy accompanied by the forced positivity I need to show for the customers has really drained me out. I can't wait to get home and take a relaxing bath.

But before that, I have to scrape the gum off a few tables. Mother's orders. She just had to pick today of all days to do a full check under the tables. She practically shoved the gum scraper into my hands and sent me out of the kitchen. Ethan offered to help, though he's still busy with the dishes. I better finish this task quickly before he does come out. I don't want to burden him with more work.

With the floors squeaky clean, I don't mind getting on all fours to start on the first table. It's the one where my mom caught a kid sticking her gum earlier today, which is what triggered this sudden extra cleaning in the first place.

Although there isn't much that I genuinely dislike, kids are undoubtedly at the top of the list. Kids have a tendency to be quite uncaring and downright mean sometimes.

Well, I suppose not all kids are like that. Some can be charming and nice too.

There was him—

I shake my head. I think I've had too much talk of Caleb for one day. My heart still races at Emma's suggestion for us and him to hang out someday. It's such a far-out suggestion that I don't even know how to consider it. I simply can't.

"I'll never be able to face him..."

My voice gets drowned out by the bell at our glass door ringing. We close at nine, and last I checked it was nine-thirty. If it's a customer, I'll have to be the one to send him or her off. And it's then that my brain decides to become extremely self-conscious of the fact that my butt is directly facing the entrance. Whoever this person is, they're sure to have seen that end of me first. I want to bury myself deep inside the tiled restaurant floors like some pitifully embarrassed mole.

The seconds tick by, making it even more awkward for me to get up and speak to this unnamed person. All I can manage is to pretend like I haven't recognized their presence and continue scraping this one piece of bubble gum as if it is the most important thing in the world.

My thoughts begin to take wild guesses at who might come at this hour. We rarely get people who don't read the business hours sign at the front and come inside unknowingly. My mind jumps from the idea of a serial killer to a lost traveler, briefly touching upon a cute guy—which I sincerely hope isn't the case given my current position—until eventually landing on someone from high school.

I can nearly feel cold sweat dripping from my forehead. Their laughter still echoes so clearly in my memories.

"H-Hello—"

I panic, going through a mental list of all the cruel boys who could've owned such a soft voice.

"Sorry, but we're closed now."

"Okay."

I have never been so relieved to see Ethan. He sends a smile to the visitor, which tells me the man is probably only a random customer and now on his way out.

"Hey, I thought we were supposed to do the scraping together," Ethan then says, coming my way.

My body must have gotten really tense earlier because I've lost all strength in my hands the moment I let go of my unnecessary anxiety. Ethan is easily able to take the scraper from my hands and resume the work I should have been doing alone. So much for not burdening him. I can't do anything on my own...

Just before leaving, the stranger says, "I'm sorry to bother you. Good night."

The bell rings again. And so does a tiny bell in my head.

That voice, although a bit lower than what it used to be, sounds so much like Caleb. The way it could put me at ease back in middle school, telling me there's nothing to worry about, despite how fast my heart would always beat around him. It was a strange phenomenon, yet one that apparently still has an effect on me even after four years.

Something sparks inside of me. I have to check.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ethan calls in the background, though it only comes faintly to my ears.

I rush to the front window, but I'm too late. I can only make out the dark silhouette of the man as he drives away. It's impossible to tell who he is at this point. I missed my chance.

I shouldn't feel so discouraged though. I've had so many opportunities put to waste over the years. So many what-if scenarios that never amounted to anything because I was the one who wouldn't allow it in the end. Despite all the people who told me I was a failure in life back then, the person most disappointed in me is my own self. I've repeatedly proven to those bullies time and time again that they were right.

I truly can't do anything for myself.