You Know Me

4| Adoration For Attention

Wednesday

May 18, 2020

"Alex! I need two BLTs pronto! They've been waiting for thirty minutes!" I yell through the swinging doors over the loud chatter from the dining room.

"Yes, Ma'am, Josie," he smirks as he places four pieces of loaf bread on the grill with only a few cubes of butter.

It's slammed, and with it being Stella's off day and our newbie, Rosalie's first day, we're way behind. All of the finely polished booths are filled with hungry stomachs and angry faces. I'm taking over most of the tables—all of my side and half of Rosalie's. Rosalie seems to be taking her time, finding her feel of things while only waiting on three of her tables. If I had the time, I would for sure dog cuss her.

"One of my tables wants to talk to our manager," Rosalie says in a frenzy as she hurries to my side.

"She's not here," I grumble and take a glass from one of my tables to refill. Our manager is never here; I can honestly say I don't even know what she looks like. Rosalie follows me into the kitchen, almost in sync with my every step.

"Can you please talk to them? They're not the happiest," she begs. Her brows furrow with worry, and she almost reminds me of Stella on days like today.

I run my hand under the nape of my neck, feeling the dampened curls that have fallen from my unkempt ponytail. I look down at her appearance. Barely a drop of sweat has escaped from her silky blonde hairline, and her makeup is still intact. I should tell her to suck it up and deal with it herself, but maybe she can use a few pointers. I take the newly filled drink and motion for her to follow me.

"Which table?" I ask, looking at her few tables. All three look pretty pissed, so it's hard for me to guess.

"That one," she says, pointing at the table filled with men, at least in their mid-twenties.

I place the new drink on my table, giving my customers a quick smile, and walk fast to Rosalie's aisle. Taking long strides, I look back to make sure she's following. All five men look at me, and their scowls immediately turn into smiles. They don't seem like the type to ask for a manager, but I don't blame them with how tonight's going.

"What's the problem?" I ask bluntly. Rosalie stands behind me like my shadow, giving a timid smile.

"Nothing, now," the man from the far left corner says, eyeing me firmly.

I look down at the table, noticing that each guy has three empty beer bottles placed in front of them. With my adoration for attention, I give him a smirk. "I'm sorry it's taking so long for your food to come out. We're slammed. Can I get you guys some more beers?" I ask, hoping they don't change their mood from my mention of their food. I don't feel like arguing with customers today.

"Yes, please," they all say simultaneously.

I give them a small nod and walk behind the bar, Rosalie still on my heels. "See, not that hard," I grumble as I crouch down to grab five Budlight's. "What are you doing still following me? You have tables."

She looks around at the crowded dining room and gives me an apologetic smile before running to the table closest to her. She needs a damn backbone, that's for sure. Her blonde hair sways from shoulder to shoulder as she writes down her table's order. I take the drinks back to the eye-catching drunks and hurry to the back before they say anything else that would make me want to stay and chat. I groan at the sight of all of the plates of food that cover the heating rack.

"Rosalie!" I yell. If she knew what was best, she'd drop whatever the fuck she's doing and hurry to my side.

•••

The once packed dining room is now deserted, and the only trace that shows of their appearance is the dirty tables that I conned Rosalie into cleaning. I take my tip book from my pocket and take a seat on one of the barstools as I lay out all of my hard-earned cash. After counting every penny, I stick all of the money into my wallet and take my hair down from its high stance to relieve the small headache that has begun to trail it's way to my temples.

"I'm gone," I tell Rosalie as she cleans up her last table.

I lock the front entrance and unplug the 'We're Open' sign from the outlet before walking through the kitchen to wave Alex bye and hurry out of the back door before someone else asks for my help. I take my time walking to my car and grab my phone from my purse to call Stella. As I approach my car, I see a small neon-pink sticky note stuck to my driver's side door.

"Hey, Josephine," the note reads. I take the note off of the door and shove it into my purse while I look around the dark lot as a chill moves it's way up my spine. I hurriedly fumble with my keys to unlock my car and hop in, locking the doors as I sit. It's strange that someone would leave a note on my car, it almost seems like a threat, but of course, I could be overreacting. It's probably just one of the five men from earlier, too shy to say 'hey' to my face. But how do they know that this is my car? I shake my head for being so jumpy over a damn sticky note and start my car with the 'push start.'

As my car revs up, I dial Stella. She told me she would buy some drinks for tonight, and I can use a few drinks. Her phone goes straight to voicemail, so I shoot her a text to let her know that I'm off work and put my car in reverse. As I look into my backup camera, my jaw drops. Standing under the street light directly behind my car is Dave. My heart begins to ache, and the chills simmer back onto my skin, going straight through me. I'm frozen still, and I can't take my eyes off of the red that shines on his black leather jacket from my brake lights. He waves at me through the camera, almost like I was expecting him, almost as if he's staring at me through the screen. It can't be him, he's fucking dead. I rub my eyes hard, making small black dots appear when I open them back up. When I look back at the screen, he's gone, like he vanished in thin air.

"It's just been a long day," I tell myself as I cautiously look behind my shoulder and pull out of the dark alleyway.

The night sky is dark and empty, just how I'm feeling on this lovely, dreary night. The only light given on the lonely highway is from my dim headlights and the few street lights that sit in the most extreme places. It's quiet, too quiet. I picture what I just saw, over and over again in my head, making the fast thumps from my heart ring through my ears. I'm losing it; I'm totally losing it. I almost slam on my brakes yet again as my selected ringtone for Stella chimes through the car. It takes me a second to gather the ability to pick up the phone.

"Joooo-Joooo, sorry I missed your call," Stella shouts through the other end. I can hear the sound of loud music and familiar voices in the background. "Come to the fraternity. The one on our block. What is it called again? Oh, never mind about that, just come on!" She says with a slur before she hangs up.

I'm not too fond of college parties, and now it looks like I'll be babysitting Stella for the remainder of the night.