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A frown etched her face.
She met strangers all the time; that was part of the job. Owning a business that practically lured tourists from all around the world — especially during summer season — didn't really give her much of a choice. In fact, after it being such a norm for her, she kind of enjoyed it. Meeting new people everyday reminded her that the world existed beyond her little town. That people had their own stories to tell.
But it was suppose to be a come-and-go situation. Sure, she'd made some friends out of it, but it was quick and fleeting. This was not.
She wanted to know his story.
"Excuse me?"
Eleanor blinked, staring at the lady who was in front of her. "Yes?"
"I asked for a banana smoothie and crispy onion rings," she said slowly.
"Oh. Oh. Right, sorry — straightaway, ma'am."
After fumbling through the orders and giving the lady a sheepish smile, she leaned against the pillars, suddenly needing a break to compose herself. Why was she fretting over this? She'd encountered other drunks before.
The District, which was right across the beach, had a big role in that. It was a popular street that stretched forever with its neon signs and glamorous clubs. But the conversations she'd had with them usually consisted of my boyfriend broke up with me or it's my birthday today or it's summer break so I'm drunk as fuck!
He was not like the others.
And whether drunk or sober, those kind of thoughts he spilled to her didn't just appear overnight and disappear the next day. No, she knew by the way he said those things that he had been drowning in them for a while.
She wanted to make sure he reached the surface.
"Len?" Jeff asked, appearing next to her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You just seem off."
"I'm totally on." She laughed when he threw a towel at her. "There's just something that's bugging me, that's all."
