How Cliche (Narry Storan)

How Cliche (Narry Storan) Part 6

After days of sincerely trying to get used to Chelsea and her every annoying quirk, I really couldn't take it anymore. I wanted so badly to tell Harry that, too. We were at the diner again and nothing had changed from the last time. Chelsea knew a little better than to not ask for crawfish but she continued to refuse to eat the chili fries. She and Harry were still sitting on the same side of the booth. I had chosen to sprawl out on the other side to lean against the black and white tiled wall and let my feet hang out, bent at my ankles, over the booth.

I could just imagine myself-in the middle of one of Chelsea's horribly obnoxious laughs, where she would snort and cover her hand over her mouth and laugh louder to conceal it -standing up and grabbing Harry from out of the booth to bring him around back to kitchen where we were only allowed if Jerry let us. And he would because he didn't care if we were back there.

I could just imagine myself taking him back there and stopping him right in front of the burner, so close maybe that he would just get slightly burned into some sense, and telling him exactly what I thought of Chelsea:
"I hate her."
"I don't understand why you like her."
"It's a physical thing, isn't it?"
"She doesn't like you as much as you think she does."
"There's something going on and I don't know what it is or why I know it, I just do and I don't want to see you get hurt because you don't deserve that."

But instead I just sat there. I sat there and I indistinctly listened to Harry and Chelsea's conversation about something I didn't know because I had tuned out from the beginning. I let my gaze wander the place then settle on Chelsea. I began wondering about spontaneous combustion.

Then I shook my head, knowing I shouldn't have been so selfish. I should've been happy for Harry. He finally had someone to lift all of his insecurities, although I had been trying for years. But I suppose I was different. I was just his best friend.

With a sigh, I stood up and walked up to the bar, not telling Harry or Chelsea where I was going because I knew they wouldn't notice. "Hey, Jerry," I called through the small window behind the counter where the cash register was and Chris, the overly tall twenty-something that worked the cash register most days, smiled kindly at me. I smiled back as Jerry grunted and waved in response.

"Go on back, Niall," Chris offered, gesturing with his head to the window.

"Thanks," I said with another smile, walking around the countertop so I could get through. I pushed on the swinging door to get into the kitchen then and walked through the steam to Jerry. "I need your help," I told him while I stood next to him, watching as his flimsy spatula scraped under a burger to flip it.

"Holy mother!" he exclaimed, jumping to look at me and almost dropping the spatula in his hand. He put his free hand over his apron covered chest while he rolled his eyes. "Give me a little warning before you come in next time, eh?" He returned to attending to the burgers.

"Sorry," I apologized with a grin. Jerry was old in a funny way. He could give the best advice but still manage to sound like an old man trying to be 'hip' at the same time.

"Where's the other mister?" he asked, casting me a sideways glance.

He knew by now that Harry and I never came back here without the other. He also had this notion that Harry and I were close enough to be married, but without the constant bickering.

Lately that wasn't the case. We had the supplementary burden of bickering. I shrugged and leaned against the stainless steel refrigerator. "Out there. But he's with his girlfriend," I explained, adding extra emphasis and scorn to the word 'girlfriend.'

"Ah," Jerry said, nodding. "I reckon you steal 'im back before she really gets to 'im."

"Too late," I grumbled miserably.

"Ah," he repeated. "She's one o' those suckers, eh? They get real acquainted with 'em and then...bang!" He paused to bring his spatula forcefully down on one of the burgers, causing more steam to rise and me to jump. "They break 'em like glass on a kitchen floor. Here's what you do..."

He paused again but flipped another burger. I waited for him to continue and when he didn't, I frowned. "What? What do I do?"

He turned his face slightly to me and grinned, showing off several missing teeth. "That's all on you, brother. Now I got work to do."

I stood slack jawed and staring at him do his work for several moments before it dawned on me. There was no conclusion. Or none that he would tell me. Feeling slightly betrayed, I left the kitchen back into the cool air of the diner. Before I exited from behind the counter, Chris stopped me.

"What's up with you and Harry?" he questioned.

I stopped walking and let my hand fall from the counter back to my side. "Are we really that close?" I asked him, turning to watch him shrug and press a few random buttons on the cash register. It dinged then popped open. Chris closed it and gestured slightly to Harry and Chelsea in the booth as they smiled idiotically at each other and rubbed noses.

"I don't know, they just seem awfully...comfortable."

I snorted. "Awfully is right," was all I said before returning to the booth. When I sat down, I knew I was right. They didn't notice I was gone and didn't notice I had returned. They only noticed when Chelsea's cell phone rang and almost dropped off the table from the vibrations. When we left at closing time, I was merely a tag-along. I had started out as 'friend' and ended up as 'invisible.'