.04
"Wake up, Chandler, it's almost rush hour." Ron scolds me, bumping my shoulder. I stand up straighter, rub my eyes.
"Sorry," I excuse. The fast-food joint was almost empty. Except for two stoned teenagers, there was no conversation. Ron, my manager and boss, was always too hopeful and too annoying. We weren't going to get much traffic. Maybe due to the fact that the place was overly priced, or maybe that they just opened this site, Zurry's. The food was alright, if you preferred grease - dripping, sad looking cheeseburgers and overly salty curly fries. At least the stoners liked it.
"You up late last night?" Ron asked. He was a twenty five year old loner, who lived alone with no friends. All he ever did was work, at a fast food resturaunt that got no business. He was an okay person, but didn't know how to carry a conversation. And when he wasn't scolding me, he was hitting on me.
"Guess so," I replied. Thinking of last night made me shudder. The boy I met at the club, going to his house, our bickering, the kiss..
"What clubs do you go to?" He asked. I was slightly uncomfortable, and a little violated. I messed with the scratchy hat that was a required dress code.
"Mostly Joker's. My friend likes it." I don't tell him that sometimes Danny drags me to all the gay bars, where she hooks up with girls and drinks freely, getting sloppy drunk every time we go.
Before Ron can reply, a boy walks in. He looks vaguely familiar, with a blonde quiff and attractive demeanor. He looks at me, as if he remembers me too. Was he at the club last night? Have I hooked up with him before? Not likely. He looks too much like an All-American boy.
"Welcome to Zurry's, how may I help you?" I say in my fake, polite voice. It made me cringe.
"Do I know you?" He asks, flashing a million dollar smile.
"Um. Maybe?" I reply. I couldn't put my finger on it.
And then I remembered.
I guess he did at the same time.
"You're Disappearing Girl!" He says enthusiastically, laughing obnoxiously.
I want to dissolve. Melt into the floor. My cheeks burn. "Yeah," I squeak out, looking down at the cash register.
The boy - I think Niall? Maybe Louis - pulls out his phone. No doubt to tell Zayn, his roommate who I went home with last night. "Can I help you?" I ask. Less forceful.
"This is golden. The only girl whose ever been so turned off by Zayn she left. You're a legend," He says, giving another laugh. I kind of want to punch him in the face.
"I'm working." I say. Try to stop his annoying exclamation.
"Oh! Right. Two number eleven's please," he says, typing on his phone. I place his order into the computer.
"That'll be 6.99." I reply. I just want him to leave.
He hands over the money. Gives me a bashful smile. "Sorry about that. Chanley, is it?"
"Chandler." I can hear Ron in the back, making the boy's orders.
"Mmm. Well, you're awesome." He says, the smile taking over his face. Does he ever stop smiling?
Finally, I give him a paper bag that has his orders inside. He takes it, slipping me ten dollars. He winks, taking off. I finally feel like I can breathe again.
..
When my shift ends, I walk out the back entrance. It's already dark outside, even though its only 8 pm. Winter is coming fast.
The air is cool against my skin. The alleyway smells like the inside of Zurry's: burger grease and french fries. I probably smell like it, too.
My car is tucked safely on the curb beside the darkened building. The only other car near is across the street, and by the looks of it is on. I get the feeling like I'm being watched. I hurry with my keys, jangling them in my hand before unlocking my car.
"Chandler!"
I turn around. A dark figure rushes towards me. The person steps into the streetlight. I recognize the dark quiff immediately.
"Zayn?"
