That Awkward Moment

No Tips Please

Luke:

"Anyone want to come to get some lunch with me?" I asked hopefully.

"Go heat something up, man," Michael shook his head and waved him off.

"I'm tired of eating microwaveable food!" I whined and Michael rolled his eyes at the behavior.

"Then go by yourself," Michael seemed dazed. He had been acting like that for the past two days. Weirdo.

"Calum," I pleaded.

"Can't," he said not even looking up from his computer.

"Ashton?" I called.

"No," I heard him respond.

"Why not?" I nearly stomped my foot on the ground like a child as I crossed my arms.

"Because I'm not in the mood," he shrugged.

"You're never in the mood," I grumbled grabbing my jacket from the coat holder by the door. My mother had given the holder to us because she said it would leave a nice touch. I completely agreed. I slipped on my jacket and looked back at the boys.

"Okay!" I yelled. "I'm leaving now. Like as in right now."

"Just get out, Luke," Michael almost laughed. "We aren't going to come."

I glared at them all and closed the door. I swore, sometimes they could all be big jerks. They always wanted to do the same thing over and over again. I was only trying to get them out of their boxes. Our second story and expensive apartment box, that was.

I almost considered going back, but then my stomach grumbled and I knew I had no choice other than to be a loner for the day.

I walked to the closest restaurant called Meme's Cafe. I was only guessing that Meme was the owner of the store in the apron when I walked in. The cafe wasn't going crazy with customers, so that was a bonus. It was nice to have some quiet time for once. Living in an apartment with three other guys wasn't always the best place to think.

I sat down at a mini booth and waited until a blonde girl came up to take my order. Freckles covered her face and her blue eyes shined brightly. Her smile was wide, lips absolutely perfect, in my opinion.

"Hi, I'm Abigail and I'll be your server," she said in a sweet voice. "Can I start you off with any drinks?"

"Yes, a Coke," I smiled at her.

"I'll be right back with that," she said.

I couldn't help but watch her every move. Everything about her was intriguing. And I may or may not of been guilty of staring at her ass.

"Thank you," I said as she set the drink down in front of me.

"Your welcome," she replied.

Make a move, my conscience yelled from the back of my head.

"Are you joking?" I asked reading the tag on her shirt. She looked at me confused and I pointed to it. It said: Please don't give any tips to me.

"Oh," she breathed out a shaky laugh. "We're not allowed to accept any tips."

"What if I wanted to tip you?" I asked trying to keep my mouth from gaping too much.

"You couldn't?" she said in a questioning tone of voice as if she had never thought of the possibility of someone trying to tip her.

"Well, now I really want to, but I can't," I pouted. Isn't this against the law, I wanted to ask, but I decided against it. My mother told me that I should always tip a waitress because that was the majority of the money they received.