sharkbait \\ h.s

2

I've managed to go three days without having to leave my dad's house. Three days that have been spent sleeping, eating, and blogging, although my blog wasn't all that interesting.

When I turned seventeen, Ash went out and bought me a computer, which in her eyes was the best present you could get a girl on their birthday (when really I just wanted a new comforter), and she insisted that "everyone needs to be aware of the inspiration that is California Kent."

So I created a blog. Ash threw around names everyday, none of which were very good- "The Arm-spiration" was mentioned on several occasions- so in the end the site was titled: Cali Kent: The Girl Who Really Doesn't Want to be Here Right Now. Seriously.

From that day on, I'd posted a new article almost everyday on how the armless girl's life is going. The most recent being, "When an Armless Girl Walks Into a Sandwich Shop..." Needless to say, I'm not very creative when it comes to titling.

There's a light knock at my door.

"Hey, Cal," my dad says from behind the wood.

"Who?" I fire at him.

"What? Oh, Cali."

"Yes?"

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. "Yeah, hey, uh, I was going to go to Quig's real fast due to the lack of food here, did you maybe want to come?"

I contemplate this. The idea of eating something that wasn't microwave burritos is admittedly very appealing, however, the idea of being around people in public happens to not be.

"They're closed today, but I happen to be close friends with someone who works there," my dad calls again.

"Sold," I shout to him with a smile on my face though he obviously can't see it.

---

My father lied to me.

My own father tricked me into coming to lunch with him. I should feel proud, or honored or something that my dad managed to so easily get me to come back here with him, but really I'm just embarrassed that I believed him.

The restaurant is filled with people. None of whom I know.

But nonetheless, here I am, at an outside table sitting across from my father with a menu of sandwiches and salads. This is unlike me, I realized.

"So," my dad says after sipping his Sprite, "that waiter from the other day."

To be totally honest, I'd forgot about Harry. "What about him?" I bring my root beer to my mouth.

"You thought he was hot didn't you?" I swear I feel root beer spew out of my nose. "That's what you say now, right? Hot, sexy, yum-"

"I didn't." My voice comes out high-pitched and I think the whole restaurant hears it. I clear my throat. "I didn't think he was anything."

He raises his eyebrows but leaves the conversation at rest as we get ready to order.

To my dismay, Harry was our waiter today. "Mick," he'd said when he arrived at our table on the balcony. "Cal. How can I be of service today?"

"What?" I say my thoughts out loud, soon realizing and covering my mouth with my one hand.

Confusion is apparent in Harry's features. "How can I be of service today?" He says again, more carefully this time.

"I-"

"I'll have my usual," my dad speaks up.

"And Cal?"

The nickname is getting on my nerves. It isn't even my nickname. How does Harry know that name?

"I'm not eating, thanks," I say.

But you're hungry, my conscience reminds me.

Just as Harry starts to walk away I say, "Give me your best salad." He scribbles that down on his pad and continues into the main building. A smirk is evident on his face when he looks back at our table through the window.

Yes dad, I think to myself. I do think he's hot.

-

hiii so if you're reading i just wanna say thanks and that it's really cool that you are :)) I hope you enjoy it!

by the way, there isn't going to be like a whole lot of action or anything in this story lol. it's really just a cute story that consists mostly of fluff (more of which will come later, harry and cali happen soon), so if you're looking for rough sex or bar fights this isn't the right place. im a naturally fluffy person. sorry?

~mel :))