What's Mine is Yours

Welcome to Hell

"Don't touch me damn it!"

"Don't your dare talk to me like that girl! I'll knock out everyone of your damn teeth!" was his very slurred and very drunken response before he was passed out on the living room floor.

My name is Holland Pierce and the drunken mess on my living room floor is what I'm supposed to call a father. Welcome to my life. Also what I like to call hell.

***

I went up stairs and into my room to get ready for work. Work was my escape from everything else. I mean, my mom's a top notch

surgeon and my dad's one of the best lawyers in Florida. Well he is when he's not drunk out of his mind anyways. In other words, I don't need to work, but I want to.

"Wasted" by Tiesto was blasting from my phone while I was struggling to put on my shirt. "Damn it!" I yanked my work shirt over my head and ran in the direction of my favorite song. When I found my phone and looked at the caller I.D it read "Queen B."

Chelsea is the captain of my oh so classy cheer leading team. The girl couldn't cheer to save her life, but she's slutty and classless. I guess that's what "the people" like. Naturally I was crowned co-captain because I actually knew what I was doing. Chelsea of course believes she is queen of our school, so I humor myself by calling her Queen B and the B doesn't stand for bubble bee if you know what I mean.

"Just my luck. Hello Chelsea."

"Holls! Are you coming to the party tonight? Booze, hot guys, and music! What else do you need?!"

"In other words, drunk, sweaty guys grinding up on me and trying to get me into bed? Its a damn shame I have to work! Darn!" Sarcasm was dripping from my tongue at this point, but like usual, Chelsea ignored it or she was dumb enough to think I was serious.

"Come on Holls! Jaxx throws a killer party! Have someone cover your shift! Since when did you start working at midnight anyways?"

"I'm late. I'll talk to you later Chelsea." I hung up before she could get another word in and looked into the mirror on my wall.

Sighing, I threw my unruly, curly black hair into a messy bun and I was on my way.

Considering my dad was passed out and my mother was at work, like usual, I had no one to say goodbye to. It's okay though. I hate goodbyes. I prefer the term "Later."

***

The night shift is so boring! The only other person here is the cook and he hasn't cooked anything since 11 tonight.

I work at a small, 24/7, 60s styled diner right in the center of town called "Missy's." And man did I love working here. In the evening time anyways. This 9 to 5 thing isn't going to fly. I have to remember to talk to Missy about this.

During my mini rant, a boy came in and sat along the far end of the bar. Excited to do something other than twiddle my thumbs, I jumped out of my seat and pretty much ran over to him.

"Hey there! I'm Holland and I'll be serving you tonight! Can I start you off with someth-" Oh my gosh. He's beautiful.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his head and I was stunned. He has dark gray eyes that seem to glow, dark brown hair that was almost black, and perfectly tanned skin.

And then we stared. I have no idea how long I stared into those eyes but I was the first to look away.

I pulled out my note pad and cleared my throat. "Umm. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

He seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Blinking a few times, he looked down at his menu and said, "A coffee would be nice."

Dear God. That voice. He has this deep, soft voice that I would love to have whisper-