Note: Hi. This is my weird YA Fantasy. I normally write women's fiction. This is my fist venture into YA. What I really want to know is if this story is interesting to YA readers and if it is too weird to even follow. Would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks- happy reading- soupmomma1 (aka Susan)
Egg McMuffin Hazards
Grim and fingerprints coat the door of the Eleventh Street McDonalds, but I don't care and push my palm against the glass. The door swings open and the aroma of greasy food greets me—such a divine scent. Right now, the only thing that really matters to me is the food, cooking on the other side of the counter, twenty feet in front of me. My friend, Hayley, follows me into the dining area and then practically sprints around me to get to the counter first. I'm focused on the task that brought me here—satisfying my craving for an Egg McMuffin and hash browns. I love McDonald's. My mother hates it. Occasionally, Hayley and I make up a fake excuse and tell our moms we need to get to school early. Instead, we come here.
"What are you getting?" Hayley asks.
I skim through the backlit print on the giant order board, hanging above the counter. Of course, I'm getting the Egg McMuffin. I always get the Egg McMuffin. It's just a game we play. "I don't know. What are you getting?"
This is also part of our game. She always gets pancakes and hash browns. It's a rebellious act against her mother, who subjects her entire family to this crazy low-carb diet. No one on the planet loves carbs more than Hayley.
A gust of wind at my back causes me to turn around. My gaze attaches, like one of those giant magnets that pick up crashed cars in a junk yard, to the blue eyes of the boy walking through the door.
"Hello, earth calling Annalise." Hayley elbows me in the ribs. "It's our turn, order something."
I hear her voice and part of me really wants to order food, but the boy walking toward me is mesmerizing. My stomach cartwheels, and this time it has nothing to do with hunger.
In the background, I hear Hayley giving the cashier my usual order.
"Your total is seven dollars and sixty-two cents."
As the cashier finishes speaking, Hayley smacks me on the back of my head. "Hello," she shouts in my left ear. "Money."
The beautiful boy smiles at me.
"The money, please. The cashier is waiting."
Hayley's hands clamp my shoulders and spin me around sending pain shooting down my arms Her fingers pry open my fist then she snatches the money from my palm. The boy stands in the line next to us. He isn't looking at me anymore.
"What is wrong with you?" The expression on Hayley's face is complete exasperation.
"The boy next to us."
She turns and looks at the boy. "So, he's a boy—probably a senior skipping school."
"He is sooo hot. Have you ever seen such amazing eyes?"
Hayley scans him from head to toe. "He's okay. Nothing to freak out over."
I shake my head. She is so wrong.
As we gather our orange trays from the counter, I sneak a side glance at the boy, who is now completely focused on the cute cashier taking his order. Even the way he stands, legs spread, arms crossed in front of his chest, is awesome. My heart beat quickens as I pass him on my way to the table where Hayley is already seated.
"It's dirty." She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a way-too-large-for-a-kid bottle of hand sanitizer and begins dumping it onto the table top. She's a complete germaphobe—again thanks to her carb-free mom, who has Hayley convinced we're all going to die of infections caused by mutant antibiotic-resistant bacteria.
She extends the bottle toward me. "Open your hands."
I let her dump the smelly liquid into my palms. As I rub my hands together, she drops the bottle back into her bag.
"Time to eat." Hayley smiles and rips the covering off a little container of fake maple syrup.
The food on the tray isn't as interesting as the boy, who is now leaning over the counter, probably trying to flirt with the cashier. I pull my eyes away and unwrap my muffin, wishing I could change places with the girl behind the counter. Hayley kicks me under the table. I look up.
"Look at the girl ringing up your hottie's order. She's got a weird look on her face."
"Of course, she does. If I was standing there looking at his eyes, I wouldn't even be able to breathe."
She gives me a drama queen eye roll and begins dumping maple syrup all over the layer of butter, coating her pancakes.
"He has a gun!" Someone screams from behind the counter.
Fear chokes me. I swing my head around. Everyone's eyes are wide with panic and their chests heave with each breath, just like mine. A shriek coming from the rear of the room breaks the silence. The people seated in the back of the restaurant run for the door.
The beautiful boy swings around and faces the dining room. He scans the room. gun clamped between his hands. I'm seated close enough to see his arms quivering and a diabolical look on his face. He turns toward me and Hayley. She sobs, spilling maple syrup on the table. As terrified as I am, I'm still mesmerized by his eyes.
He gives me a long stare before turning back to the cashier.
"Stick the cash in a bag." His voice is deep and harsh.
The poor girl stands frozen as he shakes the gun in her face. On the left side of the restaurant, I see a man, hunched over, slinking quietly toward the boy's back. Within a blink, the man hurls himself at the boy and tries to pull the gun from his hand. In the background, Hayley screams "Get down! Get on the floor!"
The first shot explodes from the gun.
YOU ARE READING
FUSE
Teen FictionAnnalise and Richard have acquired a nasty habit of killing each other in lifetime after lifetime, but this time may have been their last.
