The Hooded Figure

FOURTEEN

Layla wasn't there at lunch.

Jade and I tried to make conversation, but Layla was the outgoing one, the one who always knew how to keep things going. After a while, we just gave up and ate in silence. I heard a booking laugh from across the cafeteria and I turned around. Waltzing into the cafeteria, was Damian Pierce, accompanied with three of his jock buddies and the cheerleader of the week.

The note from Layla's locker flashed in front of my eyes as I tore my gaze away from the rambunctious bunch. Jade sighed and it looked like she was about to say something, but the bell rang.

"Well, see you tomorrow," she said, getting up quickly with her lunch and walking out of the cafeteria. I sat there for a moment, wondering when my life had gone to shit. Maybe it was just today, Wednesday's had never been my day. I exhaled slowly as I got up and walked out of the cafeteria. As I reached my locker, a dizzy spell came over me and I used the wall to hold myself up. Once it passed, I unlocked my locker and put my stuff in it. The rest of the day didn't involve much brain work and I was thankful for that.

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Layla didn't show up to the Stollery Club either and that's when I really started to worry. Ever since her brother died of Leukemia, she's been the most active person in the group. She volunteers at the hospital every chance she gets and I'm pretty sure she sees my mom more than I do.

Without Layla there, there wasn't anyone to talk to. I was having a bad day and I wasn't feeling very sociable. Hopefully that'd change by the time the interview rolls around.

The rest of the group planned the next fundraiser for the hospital and usually I'd be all over it -I love fundraisers- but this time, I just stood around the table, nodding at the things other people suggested.

"Amy?" Someone asked, grabbing my attention. "What's wrong? Usually you're all over this kind of thing."

"Sorry, I just zoned out," I replied with a shrug, looking at the board of ideas, actually seeing what was written.

"You've been 'zoned' out for the past hour and a half," someone else chipped in. I looked up at them lazily before widening my eyes in panic.

"Hour and a half? You mean it's five o'clock?" I asked fearfully, looking around the table from person to person.

"Yeah..." the girl trailed off somewhat awkwardly.

"Oh my gosh, I need to go, sorry guys," I said as I stumbled over my feet trying to get my stuff together. I ran to my locker and grabbed my backpack before heading outside at a quick pace. There was a strong wind outside and it nearly pushed me a few steps to the side. I fought hard against it as I made my way to the bus stop. Thankfully, the mall wasn't too far from the school, but I didn't know when the next bus was supposed to come.

As I waited somewhat impatiently, I was about to text my dad, but the bus turned onto the street from around the corner. I sighed with relief and checked my phone.

5:15.

I got onto the bus and prayed that the driver wouldn't be stopping too often. As if the traffic gods answered my prayers, I arrived at the mall in ten minutes. As I got off the bus, I looked around for the nearest entrance. Once I spotted one, I started to run across the parking lot. I almost got run over, twice, but as I arrived at Marco's Pizza at exactly 5:28, I felt that it was worth it.

There was an older woman with black hair and although she was clearly going grey at the roots, she still looked beautiful. It was evident that she was of Italian heritage with her tan skin and other defining features, but her kind eyes were what caught my attention. As I approached the hostess table that she stood behind, she smiled at me politely.

"Can I get you a table?" She asked with a thick Italian accent.

"Um, I'm actually here for an interview?" I told her with a grin on my face. Throughout the bus ride, my nerves had gone up, but my mood had also gotten better.

"Oh, great! Marco is in the kitchen, I'll go get him," she said, leaving the hostess stand and disappearing through a pair of swinging doors. I waited until she reappeared with a man who looked about the same age as she did, but his hair was almost entirely grey.

"Hello, I'm Marco!" He introduced with a jolly smile on his face. His accent was as thick, if not thicker than the hostess's

"I'm Amy," I replied, trying to match his enthusiasm. He gave me his hand for me to shake and I met him in the middle, making sure to keep my handshake firm just like my dad had taught me when I was younger.

"You're here for the cooking job?" He inquired, making me freeze. I thought I was here for a waitressing position, not that I knew how to do that either. I guess cooking pizzas can't be that hard, right?

"Yes," I answered confidently, portraying someone they'd actually want to hire.

"Great, follow me and we'll do the interview," he told me. He turned around, expecting me to follow as he took us to a table right beside the swinging doors. It was a small table for two, but it was perfect for conducting an interview. Once we sat down, I pulled my resume out of my bag.

"Would you like to see my resume?" I asked him with a kind smile on my face. He raised his hand slightly and shook it.

"No resume, just interview," he said, still grinning. I tried not to frown as I put my resume back into my back. "Okay, let's get started."