DIRTY BULLETS

chapter two

"ORDER FOR TABLE number seven!"

That was her cue.

Grabbing the plates from the hatch separating the kitchen from the dining area, Layla balanced them as best she could, making her way between couples and families to get to the rowdy group of boys sitting at table number seven.

She held her fingers crossed this time.

Each time she asked the group of boys if they needed anything or if she so much as walked past, something inappropriate was said. She knew they were just immature fifteen year olds trying to act up in front of their friends but each time a vulgar comment was made her tolerance of it got lower and lower. She wasn't in the mood to be taking the harassment, not today. Not any day, but especially not today.

Ever since her shift had started, Layla had been glancing at the clock, waiting and hoping it would hit her end sooner or later, but to no avail. It was like a watched pot waiting to boil; every time she checked she hoped an hour would have passed when in fact it was only ten minutes.

Layla was urgent to get home, but of course this day out of the others she was given yet another late night shift she could barely handle. It was unfair punishment, she was sure of it.

But she couldn't argue with her times, for she was already on bad terms with her boss. She was on thin ice and one wrong foot may lead it to break, resulting in her losing her job. For anyone else it would be an easy negotiation, but with the way she had been acting up lately at work, in ways that just wasn't her, she really couldn't afford to put even a toe out of line. It frustrated her of course, but she could do nothing about it.

Approaching the group of boys, she gave out their respective dishes before politely asking if they needed anything else while still trying not to get pissed off when one of them said they needed her to 'give them a hummer.'

Holding back a scoff, she clenched her fist by her side in an urge to calm her anger before simply rolling her eyes and walking away.

Unfortunately, she was used to such vulgar treatment by now, but that didn't mean it didn't fail to cause a reaction from her too. It was an awful thing to be used to, and of course there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about quitting; but she needed this job, she needed the money. So every day she suffered the same treatment.

It was just a shame that the diner was such a popular young person hang out and that it was in the part of town that wasn't all that nice.

Besides, Layla told herself it would give her a backbone, strengthen her more to deal with such disrespect. That way if she's faced with it in a different scenario it wouldn't be such a surprise or have the same shock value.

God, it was sad that she justified her tolerance of that sort of treatment.

Making her way back behind the counter, the girl began picking up the empty milkshake glasses sitting at the high chairs when another waiter, Craig, called over to her. "Layla! Phone!"

Setting the glasses down she quickly made her way over to the boy, taking a hold of the phone that was attached to the wall and bringing it to her ear. But before she could even say 'hello', she was bombarded with words.

"You need to come home tonight." Her eldest sister's, voice thundered down the phone. And default panic struck Layla at the urgency of her words. She normally visited home on the weekends because it was across the other side of town. Why would Hailey want her back at the house on a Thursday night?

"Why? What's happened? Is everything alright, Hailey?" Layla questioned, her voice fragile as she feared the answers.

"Not exactly," Hailey muttered, sounding rather unsure and hesitant. "Where are you? Can you come over now?"