All the Boys

1. A Tip

People say our destinies are set in stone the night we're born. That everything we do is part of some sort of plan set for us by the cosmos. I say that's the biggest, shittiest idea conformists have ever come up with. I don't play cards, but I know when to call bull shit.

            Life is like the wind. There's always a plan, but it's subject to change. Life can be a breeze, life can be a storm, and sometimes life just blows. But that's just the way the wind goes, and we all have to deal with it.

            -

            I wish I'd worked somewhere more interesting like a coffee shop, or maybe a record store. I wish I was like all the girls in the stories, with the nice long blonde hair and the crystal blue eyes. And I'd, by chance, meet a charming young lad with perfect hair, and fall in love and have no cares.

            But like I said, I know when to call bullshit.

            I would love to be in a picturesque story, but that's not the way my wind blows. I work as a busgirl at a local diner. I'm not even a waitress that can chat up cute boys, I just clean and set tables. I don't have long blonde hair at all. My hair's short, dark, and wavy and it never agrees with me- ever. So I leave it be as the wavy mess that it is. Most of the boys who come to the bistro cat call waitresses and if not  they nearly piss their pants when a girl's even in the proximity, so no prince charming here. I'm around 170 cm (5" 6') and nearly flat chested, so I could easily pass for a boy if you don't look at my face. With the kind of people that come round, I'd rather be mistaken for a boy.

            Oh, and I've never been in love.

            There are few things in the world that I love. Of course, my mum, dad, and little brother Henley are on the number one spot. Next are my friends Pavarti and Nina, and the rest of the list is being occupied by foreign chocolates and actors nearly double my age.

            I'm almost nineteen now, and my gap year started two months ago. I've spent these two months busing tables, and hauling my brother back and forth from school. Like I said, it blows, but as long as it gets me where I need to go, I'm down for it.

            "Are you even listening?" Snapped a voice in the back of my mind. I quickly shut my journal and looked up at the blonde sitting down at my counter, along with the darker skinned girl who was beside her.

            "Sorry, Nina, what?" I said, slipping the book into the front pocket of my apron. Nina and Pavarti. They both went to college for their A-levels. As did I, but I had skipped a grade and gotten out too early, and too young. College never seemed important since I passed secondary with flying colours, all A stars. So I took a gap year while they finished, so we could all go away to university together.

            "I said that there are wasteoids in the lot! What's Gideon going to say to you when he finds out you haven't shooed them off?" Nina asked in a low voice, "Aren't you supposed to keep loiterers away between tables?"

            "Oh shit, not again," I sighed. Gideon was my boss. He's my parent's college friend, but that doesn't mean he throws softballs

            "Honestly, Charlie, you skip a grade but you can barely keep your head out of the clouds in this dump," Pavarti said as I slid across the counter to the front door.. I opened the door and was greeted by a damp mist and bitter cold. Lovely British weather, as always.

            I saw smoke rising behind a large grey minibus at the end of the lot. I sighed and wrapped my sweater around me as I walked out. The bottle of mace in my pocket felt heavy as I came closer, the smell of smoke burning in my nose. I came to the other side of the van and found five boys. One had hair slick as petrol, another with bleached-to-death-blonde, the other three with brown hair.

            "Can you not blaze up in the lot please?" I sighed, tapping my foot to try regaining feeling of my toes inside of my flats. A shorter brown haired boy walked from the other side of the group, handing his joint to the black haired boy.

            "Who are you to tell us off?" He asked, leaning on his van. I looked him in the eyes, which happen to be an iridescent shade of blue. 

            "I'm the cranky, underpaid table girl who woke up at four thirty to cart her brother to his footie practice this morning. I'm also the girl that tells off stoners who smoke in the lot. So quit it, please," I said, trying to sound polite. Adding the please didn't make it polite in anyway, but I was too lazy to care.

            "We have a cheeky one, we have," said the blue eyed man, looking at the blonde, and pointing at me, "Cheeky, she is."

            "Seriously, mate. Drugs aren't a big deal to me, but my job is," I sighed, crossing my arms. He stood and walked over to me, looking me down.

            "Your job is to get rid of stoners?" He scoffed, smoke blowing in my face.

            "Yeah, it is," I replied, fanning it away.

            "How much can I pay you to let us stay here?" He asked.

            "I'd say all your worth, but I'm afraid that won't be much," I said, narrowing my eyes, "Get out of my car park please."

            Two of the boys smirked and looked at each other, then back at us. The blue eyed boy narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, his eyes ablaze. I heard his knuckles crack as his fingers dug into his palms. I stood with my arms crossed as I felt his breath hit my cheeks like steam.

            "Leave her be, Louis," said one of the brown haired boys. His hair poked out in curls from under his hat.

            "Next time you tell us off, I'm not holding back," said the blue eyed boy. I turned on my heels and walked off. I felt a hand hit my bum, and I quickly turned to smack the nearest face as a reprimand. It was the blue eyed boy. He got the brunt of the hit, and caught my hand.

            "Lay off," I said, not struggling to get out of his reach. That's a sign of weakness.

            "Next time," He repeated, throwing my hand down and stalking back to his van with his friends. I crossed my arms and folded my sweater in. I could hear the van starting as I walked back.

            "Hey! Table girl!" Said a voice. I turned round and the curly haired boy was running with hand holding his hat in place.

            "What?" I sighed, "You want to smack my bum as well? I'll smack you right back-"

            "No, I, uh, wanted to apologize for my friend. He's not all bad y'know," He said, holding out a fist to me, "Hold out your hand."

            So I did, and I felt coins pour into my hand.

            "Jesus," I said, putting out another hand to catch coins as they fell. Nearly thirty pounds.

            "A tip," He said before running to the van that'd just pulled up. I shut my hand, hiding the money as they van door opened, letting him in. The blue eyed boy stared me down as they drove off onto the road. I watched and walked back inside as it began to rain

A/N Thanks for reading! I hope it wasn't bad, or a waste of time for that matter. Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments or in my ask box on tumblr!