Anything {Catfish & the Bottlemen}

4

I spun round, astonished. My eyes began welling up but I wiped them with my sleeves to hide my sadness, both from my colleagues and Van.

I walked over to the front desk and spoke with confidence, "hi, welcome to Cap'n Cod, how may I help?" I stared Van directly in the eyes, waiting for his answer. "Five chip butties please, love," he responded. Love. It kills me when he says that, it comes out of his mouth so beautifully. I smiled weakly, turned and inserted his order into the cash register. Turning back to Van I said "that'll be £8.65, please," and he gave me it in exact change. He stepped back to let someone else be served, and I served up his order, working as fast as I could to get Van out of here as soon as. "Salt and vinegar on those?" I yelled over, and Van shook his head, then looked straight down at the floor. I waved him over, gave him his bag and said "thanks for coming, have a nice night!" And turned away, running into the back room.

My colleague Darren came into the room behind me, and tapped me on the shoulder, "all good?" I faced him, wiping my eyes as I did so. "Relationship issues, it's fine, let's get back to selling chips!" Daz gave me a glare, but nodded as if deciding my answer was sufficient. We walked back out front together, and we worked.

The shift went by quite quick, and before I knew it it was just Freya and I in the shop. "You do know you don't have to stay until the last ten seconds of the night?" She told me. I nodded, "I know, but going home to an empty flat is quite dampening, so working later means I've an excuse to go to bed as soon as I get in." I felt I'd said too much by both the feeling in my chest and the look on my boss' face. We both stood in silence as we wiped tables and surfaces, until I finally broke it with my exit, "right, better get off. See you next week," but Freya stopped me. "You can talk to me, you know, about anything." I nodded, released myself from her grip and ran out of the door. Anything. The word rang round in my head, reminding me of Van, and the words he said to me last night.

Speed-walking down the street, I began to regret not bringing an umbrella. I was cold, I was wet, and I was sad. Those three did not make a very good combination. Little did I know my mood was about to be worsened. I felt a tap on my shoulder so I turned around, only to be looking in the beautiful, watery eyes of Van McCann. "Emily," he said. I longed for him, I wanted to step up on my toes and kiss him. But I couldn't. "What do you want?" I asked instead, beginning to turn away. "Why are you even here? You rehearse at the other side of Llandudno with Bob," I sped up, trying to escape his grip. "We've bought a studio, just up the road. You'll be seeing a lot of me and the lads." Oh, joy! I turned round and rolled my eyes at him. "Congrats? Is that what you want me to say?" Giving him attitude felt so good, but killed me inside. "I wanted to see you," he said. What was he doing?
"Why?" I asked. "Did last night just not happen to you?" He stared down at the floor at this. Crap. I'd upset him. "Because... I— want to be your friend. I said last night that I love you. That still applies today, love, and I want to see you and talk to you. The boys enjoy your critiquing of our music, too," he smiled glumly. I was astonished. I thought Van was just telling me he loved me to soften the blow last night. A tear fell from my eye, and he wiped it away with his soft hands. God, those hands.

"Van, I— I don't know what to say. I can't do this. Not now," I pushed his hand away from my face, turned and ran down the street.