Wary Waitress

Don’t pick me.

“You all have five minutes. Then we’ll check your warm-up.”

I’m done, but please don’t pick me.

My brown eyes flicked over to my snickering black haired of a best friend, Julian Astor, who was reading my facial expressions like a Dr. Seuss book.

“Dude.” He leaned over and whispered to me, “Relax. She’s not going to pick you.”

I sighed internally, he placing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a reassuring shake.

He sat at the same desk next to me, which was in the center of the classroom. Ever since freshman year, I chose very carefully where to sat—if I sat too far in the back, then Ms. Winslow, our English teacher, would call on me frequently. If I sat in the front of the classroom, then she’d be too dependent on me to run small errands for her. That’s why I decided to sit smack dab in the middle where Winslow wouldn’t acknowledge me. And since I’m Julian’s only friend in that class, he did the same, sitting in the seat next to mine.

I rolled my eyes. “And how do you know that? Winslow’s been picking the students in the middle zone since Monday. It’s not going to be long before she picks me.”

“The more you believe it, the more likely it’s gonna happen…” he sang, his blue-green eyes twinkling in amusement.

Not amused, I gave him a dead look. “Do you not know me?” Julian returned my theoretical question with a goofy smile, which caused me to let out a barely audible giggle. I mentally cursed him for knowing that funny faces were one of my weaknesses.

Julian and I had been best buds since first grade. We were the only two who would fight each other and would end up as a draw, as well as calls to our parents. Basically, we pretended we were mortal enemies until the fourth grade. Then we decided to show to the world we were friends—really close ones. I was the shy and quiet kid while he was almost the opposite, but not popular. He was like my guidance…guy. He helped me through my problems and knew how to calm me down whenever I was or was getting emotional. And I would do and have done the same for him.

No one could have the same or stronger bond than we had.

Ms. Winslow was brainwashing herself on the internet, most likely rereading her new man’s love emails, completely forgetting about our time limit. Students were talking with their friends, turning around in their seats so they could face each other’s direction. For some odd reason, I noticed that nobody was an idiot and had gotten out of their seat.

Good, because nobody wanted to get a dictionary shoved up their—

Clearing my throat quietly so I wouldn’t disturb the other classmates, I tried my best to ignore Julian’s hysterical facial expressions and focus on something productive, like doodling.

Making a tiny smiley face on the top left corner of my paper, I felt myself feeling somewhat better than I had been ten minutes ago. I felt fine; calm.

Loving this feeling, I knew very well that it was going to quickly fade away in an instant.

 “Taye,” I closed my eyes, trying to hold on to the lingering content sensation. “Tayeeeeeeeeee.” His voice cracked. I held back a snicker.

Instead I shook my head quickly, not wanting to speak anymore.

I felt the breath from his heavy sigh tickle my cheek. My brows furrowed as I moved a bit away from him. How close was he leaning toward me? “Seriously. Open up.”

That could’ve been taken wrongly in so many ways.

 “Oh, come on, Taye. You’ve spoken more in this class today than you did all yesterday. And I’m happy about that.”