His Girl [s.m]

1: customer

Sorry I wanted to change the story line. I didn't like where it was going. *new story*

"Could you hurry up and serve the table?" The head chef, Charleston, demanded with annoyance.

"Sorry," I muttered. I grabbed the two plates and walked carefully over to table four. A man and his date glanced at me, admiring the food I had in my hands.

"I apologize for the wait." I state to them nervously.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Just don't expect a tip." He grinned and his eyes stared at his date hungrily. She had dark black hair, was perfectly tanned and she had pearly white teeth. To top it off she wore a beautifully tight, red dress to show her curves.

I wish I had money like her. I nodded after eyeing his date, leaving them to enjoy their food.

"Kennedy, do you seen that man over there?" My coworker Katherine pointed at table 4. I nodded and smile plastered on her face. "He's part of a gang, you know? I think it's called Cordura."

My eyes were wide. "Sounds unrealistic. I got to serve more tables." I say annoyed with her made up lies. She did this to me often.

I watched table 4, their movement had me curious. They seemed unsure, I guess.

I walked up to them, noticing that they were done with their plates. "The food could've been better," the man shrugged.

"I'll tell the chef, sir." I say with heat creeping up on my face as he stared into my eyes. He shook his head, smirking.

"No need for that, sweetheart. I'll take care of it myself."

I forcibly smiled at them both. "Enjoy your evening." I left them their check and made my way back to the kitchen.

"He hated it." I said while dumping the dishes in the sink. Charleston's face was confused and in disbelief. "Table 4, he hated the food."

He grumbled something under his breath as he started to clear the counters.
I sat down on a stool, relaxing myself. Today was busy as every other day and that man made it worse.

I checked my phone seeing two missed calls from my father. I hesitated to call him back.

"Hello."

"Why didn't you answer my calls?"

"Dad, I was working. I rarely get any breaks to check my phone."

"I paid for that phone so you could use it whenever I try to contact you. Don't make me take it away."

"But dad-"

"No. That's a warning. I'll see you in an hour."

He hung up with no goodbye. My dad was filled with anger most of the time, and my mom worried about him. He was an alcoholic & couldn't control his temper.

He had physically and mentally hurt us, almost every day if he could. My mom made me get this full time job so I wouldn't have to be home and so I could afford things for myself. It was hard, I never liked to leave her alone with him.

"Kennedy." I snapped out of my thoughts and turned my head seeing my manager.

"Oh- hi, Russ." I shyly say he came over to me, handing me an envelope.

"Your pay check." He smiled, my cheeks flushed red. I may have a little crush on my manager. Thank you I mouthed to him and he left the kitchen.

I stared down at it; I had been saving up each month for an apartment my mom and I could move into.

I slipped it into my pocket and made my way out to clear the tables. I seen the man from before holding his dates' waist and kissing her neck by the doors. He looked over at me and I gasped as I snapped my head away from them.

"I hope he didn't see me staring at him." I mumbled quietly. I wiped down tables, grabbed dirty dishes and tips that were left. I sighed.

When I got to table 4 I seen that they left me a 5 cent tip. I rolled my eyes. What an absolute dick.

After I was done work I walked home in the dark, dreading to go home and to face my dad.

When I walked inside I immediately heard my parents arguing. "OUR DAUGHTER IS NOT A SLUT!" I hear my mom shouting and a slap to skin.

I hurried myself to the living room, my mom was holding her face. "What did I goddamn tell you? Do not raise your voice at me."

"M-mom are you okay?" I ask with concern and she looks over at me. Tears spilt out of her eyes and the red mark stained her cheek. "Mom.."

"Please. Just go to your room." She says trying not to cry anymore. I stared at my dad and he avoided eye contact with me. He just sat back down and cracked open a beer without a care.

"Listen to your mother. And I suggest you do." He advised me, sounding as a threat.

I filled down the pain in my throat and walked upstairs to my room. I closed the door gently. Only minutes later I hear them arguing again.

I laid on my bed squeezing my eyes shut. I'll take any other life, just not this one. I can't watch my mom get hurt each day anymore. It's too much.

Tears began to fall out of my eyes, I didn't do anything to stop them. It felt good to cry.