Days Of Us

4 -Day The Third (Pt 2)-

-Day The Third (Part 2)-

Friday, week 1 (continued)

She walked by Ray, going over to one of the booths to tidy up the mess that some people had left after them. Ray forced himself not to watch her walking because he didn't want to look like a major stalker. He heard her clearing up the cutlery and figured that he should probably drink some of his beer. He lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed a mouthful.

The girl walked through the door that Ray guessed must have led to the kitchen with the dirty plates in her arms. He drank another mouthful. He swept his hand over the counter, making sure it was dry, then placed the shirt on it. He didn't want to forget about it again.

The girl walked out of the kitchen and went back behind the counter.

"Hey," Ray called, waving to her.

She frowned, then walked over to him, standing directly in front of him. "Do you want another?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"No, thanks. Uh.... are you Judy?"

She frowned again. "No, I'm Lydia. I have a...." she pointed down to her shirt and frowned again. Ray wondered what she would look like if she smiled, he was pretty sure it would take his breath away. "...name tag," she finished, pulling said name tag out of her breast pocket.

Lydia. Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. Her name was Lydia. Lydia with the fiery red hair and the brown eyes that he was pretty sure could burn holes through him if she wanted.

"Well," Ray said, picking up the white shirt he had found on the street, "I found Judy's shirt on the street where I work."

Lydia finished putting on her name tag, then looked up at him blankly.

"Can you give it to her?"

She looked down at the dirty shirt as if she would rather swim in cow shit than touch it. "I'm sure she can get another one. There's plenty in the back," she folded her arms over her chest again and it took everything that Ray had not to take a glimpse down at her breasts.

"Oh," he took a sip of his beer. He raised an eyebrow at Lydia. "Do you know me?"

"Should I?" She asked, her expression- or lack of- not changing.

Ray chuckled to himself. "Do you tell a lot of people that you don't know to eff off?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly and the corner of her lip twitched. "When I'm having a bad day."

"I'm a builder," Ray offered, pausing to see if she would remember. When she didn't, he continued, "I'm working at that building near the centre. Across from the 'corner' shop. We're rebuilding the top floor."

"I'm not sure if I know...."

"Sure you do! I waved at you, then you flipped me off," Ray smiled. "Yesterday, Ronnie shouted at you and I think it pissed you off, at least, you looked pissed."

"Yeah, okay, maybe I do know you," she said slowly, rolling her eyes.

"My name's Raymond Evans. Everyone calls me Ray," he said, offering his hand for her.

She hesitated, then took his hand and shook it limply. "Lydia Carter."

"So, what do you do?" Ray asked her. He usually didn't have to ask this many questions in a conversation but it was proving to be difficult to get Lydia to talk.

"I work here," she said in an 'isn't it obvious' tone.

"Do you do anything else?"

She narrowed her brown eyes again. "Why?"

"I'm just curious," Ray said, shrugging.

Lydia bit her lip, leaning back against the wall. "I went to college. I'm a beautician."

"So you de-hair people?"

He almost got a smile out of her.

Almost.

"Among other things."

"Sounds...... fun."

"Yeah, ripping hair off people's bodies really is the highlight of my job," she replied sarcastically.

Ray laughed. Her sarcasm mightn't have been to everyone's taste but Ray found it funny. She looked taken aback about his laughter, though.

"You seem young to have finished college," Ray said, drinking another mouthful of his beer.

"I'm not telling you my age," she stated sharply. Ray was surprised at how authoritative she could sound.

"I'm twenty," Ray said casually. He finished off his beer, cursing himself internally because he was pretty sure he didn't have enough money and, anyway, it was getting near seven and the visiting hours at the hospital finished at eight. He tried to go to the hospital every evening after work.

"I'm nineteen," Lydia said, looking down at her nails. She looked younger than nineteen, Ray probably would have guessed seventeen or eighteen. She was small and fragile looking, which made her appear younger.

The clock behind Lydia said ten past seven. Ray pushed his hand through his hair. If he left now, he could get to the hospital around half past seven.

"What?" Lydia said, frowning at Ray.

"Huh?"

"What are you staring at?"

"Um," Ray said, fidgeting. He stood up, hurrying to put his bag back on his back. "I really have to go. See you around," he said quickly, rushing out of the bar and leaving Lydia Carter with a dumbfounded look on her face.

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