demon - camren

two

The headache that had been building since lunch finally struck by the end of school, driving thin needles of pain deep into Camila's temples. She popped a couple of Tylenol and, by the time her shift at the diner was half over, the pain had faded to a dull throb somewhere at the back of her skull. "My folks are getting weirder, " she said. Demi looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Sorry?" "My folks, Camila repeated as she wiped the table. She did her best to sound casual. "They're getting weirder." "Is that possible?" "I didn't think so. But do you know what they did today? They were called into my school and they made my principal cry. She literally shed tears.

She was begging and everything. They ... they traumatised her. It was so messed up." Demi shifted position, leaned back on the countertop in her red and yellow Firebird Diner T-shirt, and looked thoughtful. "That, " she said eventually, "is awesome. I would have loved my folks to have made my principal cry when I was a teenager. When my two start high school, I want to make their principal cry. I hated mine. I hated all my teachers. They always said I'd never amount to anything. But look at me now, eh? Thirty-three years old, no qualifications, and a waitress in a crappy diner with a neon Elvis on the wall."

Camila gave her the thumbs up. "Living the dream, Demi." "Damn right, " Demi said. "And hey, at least your parents are taking an interest for once, right? Isn't that something?" "I ... I guess." "Listen to me. Just stick it out for another few years and then you can go off to college somewhere and build a life for yourself." Camila nodded. New York, she figured, or Boston. Somewhere cooler than Florida, where the air alone wouldn't make her sweat. "My point is, " Demi continued, "wherever and whenever you decide to start your own family, you can do it right." She gave a little grin. "Okay?"

Camila could never resist one of Demi's grins. "Yeah, " she said. "Okay." "Attagirl." Customers came in, and Demi put a spring in her step as she walked to greet them. "Hi there!" she said brightly. "Welcome to the Firebird! Can I show you to your booth?" Camila watched her, marvelling at how natural her sudden cheerfulness seemed. A smile from Demi could turn a bad mood on its head – it was a phenomenon that Camila had witnessed on multiple occasions, and it rarely failed.

The customers smiled back and they exchanged a few words and Demi led them to a booth by the window. Even though the Firebird was the third most successful fifties-themed diner franchise in the state – and Camila had no idea where that statistic had sprouted from – Wednesday afternoons were always slow. On slow days, it was policy to sit as many patrons by the window as possible in order to entice people in. Hungry people liked eating with other hungry people, it seemed. Camila had never been able to understand that. For as long as she could remember, she had always hated people watching her eat. She didn't even like eating meals with her parents.

Although, if she was to be honest with herself – and if she couldn't be honest with herself, then who could she be honest with? – their inherent weirdness might have had something to do with that. Her parents were odd. Camila had known that for quite some time. Ever since she could remember, it was like they shared a private joke that she'd never been let in on. She loved them, of course she did, but she'd always felt like an appendage. She didn't complete the family because the family didn't need her to be complete. Alejandro and Sinu Cabello were so perfect for each other that there were no gaps left for Camila to fill.

Two guys walked into the diner, both in their late teens. Joking and chatting, they stood at the PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED sign and only looked at Camila when she smiled and said "Hi!" in her perkiest voice. "Welcome to the Firebird. Can I show you to your booth?" "Don't see why not, " said the first guy. She smiled again and turned on her heel, making sure to keep the smile in place. She wasn't pretty like Demi, wasn't tall like Demi, wasn't captivating like Demi and certainly did not look as good in her yellow shorts as Demi did, but, even so, there were so many mirrors in the diner that to lose a smile at any point could mean a drastic loss in tips.