The Jealousy Game

Thirteen - Girlfriend

Who knew that working in a café would be such hard work? I am run off my feet which deserve a nice foot massage from a loving boyfriend I don't have, and the orders are all jumbled up in my head serving me a nice big achy headache. At least it serves as a distraction from the Zander situation for a couple of hours. I just wish he would talk to me and not keep me in this troubling suspense.

"Nell there are three dirty tables now. New customers are waiting, can you hurry up." Amanda the 'assistant manager' demands snootily.

"Ok, sorry." I mutter.

Ok, so new development: she hates me. She is always criticizing me and sending me dirty looks like I'm an insolent child. It is so freaking annoying! I talked to John about it who has calmed his flirty-ness down and is actually quite a decent guy, and said apparently she has a massive borderline creepy crush on Sheub, but Sheub obviously has a thing for me, which is why she is acting like such a self-entitled bitch. Well she can have that jackass! Some girls I swear. If they learned how to talk instead of letting things grow out of control in their minds, a lot of hurt, nastiness and anger could be avoided.

We are all working apart from Roxie today, and I am sharing the brunt of the work with Darcy. She is a sweet girl with a baby face and raven-black pixie cut. She has freckles covering the entirety of her face like star constellations, and deep cinnamon skin highlighting her Spanish roots. Once the clock hits five thirty the evening rush winds down, and I can't wait to get home, relax and overthink my non-existent love life. Amanda skipped off early today as she is training for her black belt in karate (not surprised in the slightest, she could definitely beat most people up), meaning it is a lot more laid back and John and I are able to have a relaxed conversation.

When the doorbell chimes I think nothing of it, continuing to giggle with John over a video he showed me earlier of one of his high friends convinced that they were a chicken. But when I look over and see the customer standing there, staring at me with a deadpan expression, the smile on my face dies and my heart starts beating faster.

"Z-Zander?" I gasp in surprise.

I guess he is done ignoring me then.

"When do you finish?" He asks quietly.

He isn't smiling or acting friendly, which is a very odd look on him and makes me feel crestfallen. I have never seen him act unhappily to anyone, especially not me. How is he still so heart-stoppingly handsome? Somehow his coldness is hotter then when he is being all-sweet.

"In an hour." I announce nervously after I gulp.

"I will wait." He declares before turning and slinking off to a table in the corner.

Oh great, I can tell this conversation is going to go well. Not.

"What was all that about?" John whispers when he is out of earshot, but I shake my head showing that I don't want to discuss it now.

For the rest of my shift I am nervous and on edge, and I can't help glancing back at him occasionally to see if he is still there. What is he going to say? I am so scared he is going to take it all back. It makes me sick to the core. I find myself delaying finishing, conjuring extra jobs out of thin air to postpone ripping the Band-Aid off and possibly getting my heart cut up into shreds. But after I wipe down the counters for a third time and John huffs impatiently wanting to leave, I know now is time.

After I collect my coat and bag, desperately trying not to freak out in the staff room, I trail over to Zander's table where he has been waiting all this time. Darcy asked him if he wanted a drink, but he refused, so he has literally just been sat there staring at the red matte walls drumming his fingers on the table.