Chapter One | Low-fat Oreos
Crash!
Two plates of steaming pancakes slipped out of my fingers. They landed in a syrupy heap, broken glass scattering across the floor. Not a sound could be heard in the café -- the customers watched me in frozen horror. Now's probably the time when you'd expect me to start crying; to run out of the restaurant in utter embarrassment at the scene I had caused. But instead, all I could think of was low-fat Oreos and hazel eyes.
The same boy always came to the café on Saturdays with his younger brother. He was tall and blonde with a breathtaking smile and hazel eyes that made me dizzy. And for reasons unknown to me, they always chose to eat at table twelve. The table I waited. I didn't know his name or anything about him for that matter, only that he was around my age and loved chocolate-chip pancakes.
Today, however, something changed. Instead of giving me the usual polite smile he reached into his backpack and pulled out a package of low-fat Oreos. “Would you like one?” He asked in a dark, mellifluous voice. I could only trust myself to nod. The fact that I hated low-fat Oreos was beside the point -- he had asked me (me!) if I wanted an cookie. I nearly fainted.
I guess it's safe to say I was even more of a wreck five minutes later -- when I actually had to deliver two orders of chocolate-chip pancakes to his table. My palms began to sweat and my face flushed red. And before I knew it: crash! Two orders of pancakes lay smashed on the floor, right at his feet. I hid behind my hair as I cleaned up the mess. Making a fool out of yourself in front of an entire restaurant is one thing; making a fool out of yourself in front of your crush is another.
"Would you like some help?" He asked me, pity in his voice.
"I can manage."
"Really?"
"I'm fine." I snapped. “Just leave me alone.”
He turned away, hurt flashing in his beautiful eyes. I instantly felt guilty -- I didn't mean to sound so harsh. Something inside me just snapped. I was embarrassed, tired, and the last thing I wanted was his pity. From that point on he ignored me completely. Mopping up the maple syrup was a fairly easy task and I finished quickly enough to deliver their second pancake orders. This time, without spilling.
Minutes morphed into hours and before I knew it my shift was over. I grabbed my hoodie and purse in record speed -- the sooner I get out lf this café, the better.
I was just about to leave when my boss stopped me. “Felicity? I think we need to talk.” He had thin, graying hair and eyes that always seemed tired.
I felt my throat tighten. “Is it about what happened today? Because I swear that was a total accident.”
“It's not just that, Felicity.”
“Then what is it?”
“You're not cut out for restaurant work. You spend too much time daydreaming and I need someone with a bit more...agility.”
“I'll try harder, I promise!” My voice cracked. I needed this job --- I was saving up money so that I could attend New York University next fall. I had my entire life planned out, and this certainly wasn't on the agenda. My dream was to become an editor for a fashion magazine and I intended on majoring in English and art history.
“Felicity,” My boss (or ex-boss?) sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I'm sorry."
“But I--”
”Felicity.”
“Please.” Tears blurred my vision. “I really need this job. Is there any chance you'll change your mind?” I was practically pleading now.
”I'm afraid not.”
I left without a goodbye, my last paycheck tucked underneath my arm. I didn't look back as I crossed the street, not once. New York was the city where dreams turned into reality. I was going to get a new job -- no, I was going to get a new life. And just then, as I stumbled down the crowded pavement, a miracle did happen. I caught sight of a job advertisement in a large, shiny window. Little did I know how that one ad would change my life.
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