At Risk Youth

Chapter Six

That bitch Leanne, who never bussed her own tables and whom Andy had known would never last, had of course quit last minute, leaving Rob scrambling to fill the shifts with whoever would take them, which, a.s usual, meant Andy. Five days of doubles had left her feeling like she had been hollowed out. Her feet ached, her head ached, even her smile ached. She had the weekend off, but this was cold comfort. The house had begun to feel strange to her, too big and too small at the same time. September was waning toward October, and lying in bed she could hear water dripping somewhere behind the walls, and finally at three o'clock on Saturday afternoon she decided to get out of bed.

Her phone was in the kitchen beside last night's half-eaten golden fingers wrap, the diner's best seller, cheap to make and most often encouraged for the server's shift meals. More than half-eaten, actually; the wrap had been nuzzled open, the chicken fingers popping out with ragged bites in them, and honey mustard leaking into the Styrofoam. Ariel had eaten breakfast, then.

She had a text from Angelique: Wanna visit me at work tonight? It's Smirnoff Saturday! Let's get LITTY KITTY.

"Ugh," Andy said, and swiped it away. Beneath it, a few drunken Friday night texts from Craig. He missed her, he was sorry for everything he'd done, he just wanted to talk, why wouldn't she just talk to him, why was she being such a bitch, why—

Swipe.

She would pass on Smirnoff Saturday, and Craig could keep texting into oblivion as long as he wanted, but that left her wondering how she'd fill all the hours left in the day. She felt like a movie night in, but for some reason, munching Flamin' Hot Cheetos and chain-smoking cigarettes by herself didn't sound so good. Even the idea left her feeling vaguely sad. She thought of going back to bed, but then another thought crossed her mind.

"What's so interesting on your phone?" Hunter's mom asked, trying not to sound as curious as she was.

"Nothing. Facebook."

He read the text for the seventieth or eightieth time, kept having to make sure it was really there and not just a product of his desperate mind: I'm off tonight, maybe you want to come over and watch a movie?

That simple. After all the days of worrying and crying hot tears into his pillow, as easy as a spring breeze, it had come. He thought long and hard about his response. He could have filled a notebook with the texts he started and deleted, but finally settled on: Yeah, that'd be cool. What time? He sent it and immediately regretted it.

God, I'm such an asshole.

"Yeah?" his mom asked. "What's new in the world of Facebook?"

"Cat videos."

"That'd be cool?" That's like something Craig would say. Fuck. I fucked it up. I fucked it up.

There were bubbles. She was writing back.

Oh god. Oh god.

Andy: K cool. How's 7?

Hunter, eventually: Sounds good.

Andy: K there's a Chinese place right before you get to my street. Wanna tell me what you want and pick it up on your way?

"Hey mom, Billy's family's ordering Chinese food tonight, can I go over?"

"Sweetie, I can leave you money for Chinese if you want."

"Yeah, but can I go to Billy's?"

"I don't see why not."

Hunter: Can I have a small hot and sour soup and pork dumplings and Szechuan beef combo, and please make sure they put water chestnuts and snow peas in it?