Eleanor and Park The Sequel: Don't Pass Me By

Chapter 8

november. 1989.

All characters belong to the talented Rainbow Rowell.  Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave a comment! 

eleanor

Eleanor glanced up at the clock.  7:14. The Pit would start to get busy within the next hour, when groups of rowdy freshman usually came in with their fake IDs and drank pitchers of beer. Eleanor didn’t work on the bar side because she was underage, and was usually just responsible for the tables in the restaurant.  She heard the bartenders complain about the underage drinkers though, and from time to time recognized someone from a class.  The campus bars were surprisingly lenient when it came to drinking.  Eleanor had been invited out with Jenny and Liz on a couple of occasions, but had opted for a quiet night at home with her book instead.  Partly because she couldn’t exactly drink at The Pit where she worked, and secondly because the smell and taste of alcohol made prickly memories of Richie rise up in the back of her mind.   

Tuesday was usually her day off because it got so busy with karaoke they needed a server who could work the bar as well.  With cold season and midterms upon them though, Eleanor’s manager had practically begged her to come in.  She absentmindedly tidied up the back work area while she waited for the storm of students to rush in. 

Before too long the bar was as busy as she’d seen it.  To top matters off, someone else had called in sick and Eleanor’s coworkers Matt and Jordan were run off their feet.  It was all Eleanor could do to help out bussing tables, taking orders and running back and forth under Matt’s frantic direction.  Just as she dumped a bin of dirty dishes in the back, Matt raced through the swinging doors, nearly knocking over a tray of pint glasses. 

“Eleanor I’m going to need you out front, ASAP.  There’s a big group at table 12 that needs their drinks” he barked. 

Eleanor paused. “Errr… I’m still only 18, I don't think I’m allowed behind the bar” she stammered.  Matt was nice enough, but his traditional, athletic good looks and boisterous attitude intimidated her.  As soon as she’d spoken she could tell she had annoyed him.

 “What are you, the liquor board? There are customers that need their drinks” he practically spat at her.  Eleanor just shrugged her shoulders and self-consciously tightened her apron as she quickly headed out into the front and towards the bar.   Here goes nothing she told herself.

 Out in the front the bar was loud and hectic.  A group of girls were screaming Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” on the karaoke stage, and missing every note from what Eleanor could tell.  Almost every table was full of students with plates of nachos and wings and pitchers of beer in various stages of being devoured in front of them.  Eleanor spotted the table across the floor that was waiting for their drinks.  About ten guys, a couple of whom she recognized as freshmen sat anticipating their beer.  Great, not only am I serving alcohol illegally, I’m serving it to minors, Eleanor mused.  There was no time to worry though, because she could see the bartender loading up a tray of pints that needed to be delivered.

 Eleanor thanked the bartender and awkwardly picked up the tray.  It was surprisingly heavy and all the liquids sloshed around in the glasses as she shifted her weight. She teetered for a moment and nearly lost it.  “You ok?” the bartender, Joe, asked her dubiously.  She just smiled and began to inch towards the group of thirsty customers a few steps at a time.  As she approached the table, she noticed the guys staring at her, and felt her face start to get hot.  She would have liked to reach down and adjust the neckline of her t-shirt but she wouldn’t dare risk the tray of beer.  A beefy blonde freshman at the table elbowed his friend and snickered and they all turned around to look at her slowly moving along.  Feeling self-conscious, Eleanor picked up the pace and tried to look more professional.  You graduated high school with honours, this isn’t rocket science she chided herself. 

 She took a few more steps, and a customer at the adjacent table took that moment to scoot back in his chair, right into her hip.  Eleanor twisted to dodge the chair but lost her balance, clumsily dropping the tray with all the beer.  She saw the golden liquid jump out of the glass, and saw the glasses tip over like dominoes, and fall to the floor.  In her effort to stop them, Eleanor lost her footing and crashed to the floor along with the glasses and the tray, which clattered down onto her head.

The table of guys burst into laughter.  “Look at Big Red!!!” the blonde one howled.  Eleanor was sure the other tables in the restaurant were staring as well.  As she struggled to gain her composure, pick herself up on the floor and not get broken glass stuck in her hands, the boys broke into loud applause and continued their raucous laughter.   Eleanor bit her lip hard, and tried not to cry.  As she looked up, she made eye contact with the jerk who was laughing and clapping the loudest.  Looked right into his perfect, green eyes, rimmed with eyeliner. 

Park.