Falling

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

(LOUIS POV)

I was back at work today, at the Frozen Ice, which was co-owned by me and a friend called Joe. And work meant cleaning tables in this little ice cream shop whose existence never seemed to be acknowledged by anyone very often. That also meant that the tables were spotlessly clean, but I was still cleaning them. It was like an obsession, if someone looked in through the window. This man cleaning tables even when there wasn’t anybody inside and the tables were literally glinting in the sunlight.

But I had to find something to keep me occupied, and the lack of customers wasn’t helping at all. I watched the damp cloth I was holding move across the metal table, leaving a little trail of moisture after it, and then wiping it off, and then leaving another trail…

Joe was supposed to be in today, but of course he was late and I had arrived to find the lights all switched off and a ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door. No doubt he was still at home, fast asleep.

I lifted my gaze from the table as a gush of warm air came blasting in through the door. A customer, maybe? I wondered what kind of image I was giving to whoever came in the door; sitting listlessly in a chair with a cloth in hand and a what-do-you-want look on my face. What terrible service.

So I plastered a smile on my face and got up, throwing the cloth behind me onto the counter. The customer looked up and I found myself looking at none other than Joe. That smile was quickly replaced by a frown, and I crossed my arms. “Where have you be – “  He held up a hand, as his phone started to ring. Must be a girl, for sure. I sighed. I don’t think there was ever a day where he didn’t get a phone call from one girl or another. I wasn’t even sure how many girls he dated at once.

I went and sat down behind the counter. No use cleaning anymore tables, they were about as clean as they could possibly get. I dug some loose notes out of my pocket and put it in the cash register, before helping myself to a scoop of ice cream.

“Louis! Stop eating our own ice cream!” Joe cried. Finally off the phone, I see. I rolled my eyes. “Why not? I paid for it; I’m contributing to our profits, you know…” Joe shook his head. “I don’t think that’s actually contributing anything, since we own this place.”

“We need to promote this place, Lou!” He leaned over the counter, and pulling out a pile of flyers from behind him and placing it on the counter. I looked at him disbelievingly. “Was that a magic trick?”

He grinned and nodded. “I learned it to impress the girls! What do you think?” I shook my head. Joe gasped in mock horror. “No?!” He could be so dramatic sometimes, although he really didn’t look like the sort. “Nope. Did it work on the girls?”