Amnesia [l.h]

o n e

• ELENA'S POV •

"Hey Liz," I smile at the blonde lady as I enter the kitchen out the back of the restaurant, tying my black apron up behind my back.

"Hello dear," she says, although doesn't look up from her hands as she cracks three eggs into a bowl.

I quickly walk to the end of the bench, grabbing the two plates of food sitting at the end of the counter.

"What table?" I ask Liz.

"Nine," she says, and I nod before taking them out into the restaurant area.

It wasn't an overly large restaurant, it was more like a café that serves meals. Twelve tables are placed around the room, either two or four chairs under each.

I make my way over to table nine, seeing two boys about my age sitting there talking. One whom I don't recognise, but one whom I know all too well.

"Ashy," I smile as he stands up, and I wrap my arms around his muscular torso in a large hug as his circle around my waist.

Ashton Irwin; my best friend of fourteen years. We've lived next door to each other since we I was three and he was five, and ever since then we've been practically inseparable.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, although I'm certainly not complaining.

"Luke here said we should come to his Mum's restaurant for lunch, but I didn't know it was the same one you worked at!"

I nod, laughing slightly before looking at the other boy who I've now discovered to be Liz's son. I can easily see the resemblance, too.

His blonde hair is thick, and styled up into a tall quiff. His eyes are a light blue colour, and they crinkle slightly at the sides as he smiles at me.

"Hi Luke, nice to meet you," I smile. "I'm Elena."

"Yeah, nice to meet you too."

I nod, and Ashton sits back down in his chair.

"Well, I'll let you guys get eating," I say. "See you round Luke, and Ash me in the treehouse this afternoon."

Ashton laughs, nodding, although Luke just looks at us like we're a bunch of five year olds.

I turn on my heel, making my way back into the kitchen and repeating the process of cooking and waiting tables.

•••

"No way," Ashton argues, throwing a cheese ball at me. "Ariana Grande is so much better than Iggy Azalea."

"No she isn't!" I laugh, shifting on my pillow in the small wooden treehouse. "Just because you think she's hot, doesn't mean she's a better artist," I point out, and he slowly nods.

"True, true."

It's silent for a few moments, just the sound of All Time Low's 'Jasey Rae' playing quietly as we lay next to each other.

The treehouse wasn't big at all, but it was just the right size for both Ashton and I to fit inside. Ashton's Dad built it in the huge tree in their backyard when we were about ten, and ever since then it's been where we go almost every afternoon.

"So Luke was talking about you earlier," Ashton says, breaking the short silence.

"Your blonde friend?"

"Yeah," he chuckles. "He said you seemed nice."

"Well, he seems nice too."

Ashton nods, before a small smirk appears on his lips. "He also said you were hot, but I wasn't supposed to tell you that."