Done Burger Page 3

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  Chapter 5:

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  I had seen TV reports on the heroin epidemic in America's suburbs, but it had never really sunk in until its glassy eyes stood in front of the counter. This guy with messy, brown hair and a gray trench coat, with his arm around a girl in jean shorts and stripy tights. I wasn't exactly sure how I knew; I just knew. It was the eyes. They just weren't right. And they were skinny.

  "Hey," the guy said, raising his chin. "Can we have a burger and some fries?"

  "Of course. Any specific type of burger?"

  "Yeah, the one with mushrooms on."

  "We don't…" she started, trying to say we didn't serve a burger with mushrooms on it, but was it worth it? "Sure," I said with a smile. They were hardly going to remember what they’d ordered anyway, were they?

  "And some fries," the girl said. "I like the fries."

  "Okay," I said, smiling cheerily. "Would you like some ketchup with that?"

  They stared at me like I'd suggested killing a kitten.

  "I'll take that as a yes," I said brightly. It took them five full minutes to pay and they then sat down at one of the free tables and picked at the food. Everything they did seemed just a little too slow.

  "I went to middle school with him," Ella said. "He was a bit of a dick. Still, kind of sorry to see him turn out like this. His mom must be devastated. She was a nice lady." Ella turned around facing the back. "See Riley decided to come sober today."

  I turned around and looked at the boys by the fly plate, doing their usual thing.

  "Riley doesn't give a shit about anything," Ella continued.

  "He went in my bag and helped himself to a cigarette yesterday."

  "I'm not surprised. He isn't a big thief or anything, just has more liberal property views, like share and share alike."

  "Yeah well, he can share a cigarette right back at me."

  "Riley's alright," she said. "He stood up for me once when these guys were hassling me, so I kind of feel I owe him. Wyatt's so in love with him. He's got the misfortune of being a straight guy in love with a dude. His girlfriend is tickled pink, I'm sure. I wouldn't be surprised if he called out Riley's name while doing her."

  "He's got a girlfriend?"

  "Some girl he met in high school. They're like engaged or something, although don't know what kind of girl would marry someone like Wyatt. He's got like no potential. Used to be some Ritalin kid. Probably still is. I can imagine his mom still spooning that stuff down him in the mornings. That guy is never moving out. I suppose if he's in love with Riley, he's not drooling after other girls, so I guess that's an upside for his girlfriend. You got a boyfriend?"

  "We broke up a while back."

  "He cheated?"

  "I don't actually know, but I think so. Honestly, I don't care. He thought he was just too cool and then he started ignoring me and hanging with these new people, thinking he was an intellectual or something. I was just done with it."

  Ella watched me, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Guys suck," she finally said. "I had a boyfriend who cheated; stupid fuck didn't think I'd ever find out. You can't hide shit like that. It always comes out. Don't they get that girls talk? He tried to deny it, of course, but he was so caught. Asshole. I keyed his car. Fucker. And then he was like showing off these girls in front of me, like I care. So over it. He's still texting me though. I think he believes he can get me back. There's no future for me there and I am all about focusing on my future."

  "Me too," I said in solidarity. "I'm starting college in the fall."

  "Yeah?" Ella said brightly. "Good for you. School just wasn't for me. I didn't get the grades."

  Turning around, Ella looked out across the restaurant and saw trays stacking up on tables. "I guess I better go clean up," she said with a sigh. "I hate it, but I still prefer front of house. You stink less."

  Ella did have a point; the smell of grease followed you and it stayed in my room anytime I took my uniform home. Now, unless I was washing it, I left it here, but there was still that smell. No matter what I did, there were faint traces of it.

  Mia appeared. I didn't know her; she only came in once in a while. "Deseree's kid's sick, so you have to do the window."

  "I don't know how to do the window," I said, feeling anxious at being pushed into the deep end, or something I had never agreed to do.

  "Same shit, just through a headphone. You'll get the hang."

  With a sigh, I made my way to the back. Julian sat in his little office, his legs looking too long for his desk. He didn't pay attention when I walked past, but the fry boys were there as always. Yeah they were definitely bromance tight, I thought now that I considered it. I wondered if they hung out outside of here.

  "Princess," Riley said and I gave him the finger.

  "Touchy," he said, blowing a kiss. It wasn't simply a good-natured one; it had that edge to it. There was always that judgmental edge to Riley. What the hell did he have to get judgmental about?

  "Stay out of my bag," I said and went to the drive thru window where a guy was sitting impatiently in his car with a murderous look on his face. Shit, I hadn't realized someone was actually waiting. "Sorry," I said, trying to look for his order. I filled it as fast as I could and he snapped the bag out of my hand. With a sigh, I put on the headphones that made me look like some extra in a Star Wars movie.

  *

  I had to man the drive thru the next day as well. Deseree didn't come in at all, which meant I had to do the busy evening period, running to fill orders, while at the same time taking orders from the next customers. I could see why they wanted girls on this job. You had to be able to multitask. It also had more customers late into the evening when the restaurant slowed down.

  "I can't hear you," someone shouted through my headset, crackling in my ear so it hurt. "Speak up!" It isn't my fault you have a hearing aide, I wanted to shout at them, but couldn't—that would be unprofessional. Instead, I repeated their order as if I was speaking to a child. Seriously, if they had hearing issues, why do the drive thru? They could just as easily walk into the restaurant and order in person, but they insisted.

  The person drove up in a station wagon. Sometimes it was a surprise putting a face to a voice, but not as surprising as seeing my aunt. "Pepper," my aunt said disbelievingly. "I can't believe that was you. There's really something wrong with the speaker back there."

  "Yeah, it's shit," I said. "No one can hear anything, apparently." Which was true, but most people just winged it.

  "Your mom told me you were working in a place like this," her aunt said commiseratingly. "It's so sad to see you stuck in that little window. You can do better, I know you can. You're just not trying hard enough."

  Because jobs for high school graduates were so easy to come by, I wanted to say, but ground my teeth together instead.

  "Can't your mom get you a job at the hospital?"

  "They don't really do summer jobs at the hospital, Eileen," I said.

  "It's a shame Marty's video store shut down. You could have worked there. I don't know why he closed it."

  "People don't really go to the video store anymore. It's all Netflix now," I said tightly. I knew my aunt was well meaning, but it was like talking to someone who had no clue how the world worked. The world my aunt lived in was completely different and she just didn't see how things had really changed. As far as my aunt was concerned, people still wore bell bottoms and Charlie's Angels was a cool show—not the movies, the TV series. "I'm sorry, but I can't talk anymore. I have to keep the line moving. How about I call you tomorrow?"

  "Alright, honey. Say hello to your mom. How about you two come by for dinner on Sunday?"

  Everything I had just said about moving the line along had just bypassed my aunt.

  "Okay, but you have to go. I'll get in trouble." Okay that wasn't true. Julian hardly charged out of his office and ripped into us for stuff like this, but the threat of trouble always seemed to motivate the people of my aunt's g
eneration. She finally drove off with a wave.

  "How sweet, family dinner on Sunday," Riley said coyly as if he was touched. "Are you going to bring something?"

  "Fuck off, Riley."

  "I'll be your date."

  "Well, there's something to aspire to." Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. "Does no one feed you? You have to wrangle invitations to other peoples' Sunday dinners?"

  "I'd just like to see you at Sunday dinner. Do they sit around and tell you off for not living up to their high hopes?"

  For some reason, Riley was the one person I wished had not just heard that conversation with my aunt. Unfortunately, what he was saying were true, because I had always been so clever, so smart, they had expected me to make a name for herself. I could do anything, they had told me, even run for president one day. Drive thru girl at the local Coast Burger was somewhat below their aspirations for me. Annoyingly, everything Riley said was true and I would be lying if I denied it.

  Refusing to look at him, or even acknowledge his presence, I focused on taking orders, my back firmly to him.

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  Chapter 6:

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  It was a slow day. Bright and sunny, the perfect late afternoon summer’s day. And this was the last place I wanted to be and apparently the customers felt the same way. There was no one at the counter from what I could see, so I took a moment in the bathroom to just sit and collect. I just needed a moment of calm. This asshole had tried to run into me on the way to work, driving this massive pickup, thinking everyone would get out of his way.

  If I actually got my act together and left home well ahead of time, I wouldn't be so stressed all the time, another thing that just didn't seem to come together. I bet Matilda's life was completely organized, including a room where everything was in its place. The neat-freak bug had just bypassed me. My floor was covered in clothes. It made a nice carpet to walk on actually, but when you were looking for just that top, you occasionally had to compromise.

  Putting on my cap, I sucked it up and walked out, bypassing the fry boys who only cast a glance my way. An indecisive customer stood on the other side of the counter, his arms crossed over his belly, reading everything on the menu. Ella was standing at the far end of the restaurant, staring out the window, probably wishing she was somewhere else, where everyone else was—at the mall, down by the lake, cruising around town.

  I stood back and left Matilda to wait for the customer to make up his mind. Supplies should probably be checked, but at the rate we were going, even low stocks were unlikely to run out. It was so quiet, I could even hear Deseree talking into the mic for the drive thru. I certainly wasn't sorry I wasn't on the drive thru anymore.

  Elle wandered back behind the counter. "Hey," she said.

  "Hey, yourself."

  There was an awkward silence, because we didn't quite know each other well enough for natural and flowing conversation.

  "Got a new boyfriend," she said. "So hot." She accentuated with her eyes.

  "Yeah?" Again, I didn't quite understand the relationship between her and Julian. According to Ella, it was just a 'here thing'. "And Julian?" I asked. Maybe it wasn't my place to ask.

  "Well, I have a boyfriend now, so that's, you know, over."

  "Oh, okay." Was he aware of this, I wanted to ask, but it really was none of my business.

  "His name is Brandon," Ella said. "He has this Alfa Romeo Spider in cherry red. It's just awesome sauce. People stare at us when we drive past."

  "That's cool," I said. It wasn't my thing, but Ella was into cars.

  "You should come with sometime. He's got hot friends," she said, finishing on a singing note.

  "You know, I'm not really looking for a boyfriend right now. Actually staying clear all together."

  Ella blinked in confusion. "Why not?"

  "Still in the ‘guys suck’ mode, I guess."

  "Yeah, but no better way of getting over it than with someone new. Someone who can't keep their hands off you," she said with a wink. "Come on, there is nothing better than having someone to do a bit of chillin and Netflix with."

  She did have a point. I did miss chillin. It was all the drama that came with it. Seventy percent bad shit for thirty percent good shit. I really should get out more, but I doubt the guys Ella hung out with were my type. "Maybe you're right," I admitted. Let's face it; cobwebs were starting to grow down there. I've been pissed off and hurt for too long with the break up with Kyle, who was now dating Cheylise, and Cheylise, infuriatingly, was cool with this pixie cut hair and New York street style. The success was the best revenge mantra didn't quite work when the person you ex started seeing was probably cooler than you.

  I grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge and twisted the cap off. It froze my teeth and gave my brain a bit of a singe. At least I could hydrate. Matilda gave me a pointed look.

  "I will have it docked, I promise." Not something you could avoid with Matilda guarding the fridges.

  Ella shifted, putting her hand on her hip. I noticed her fingertips now had white lace on them and little diamonds.

  "Saw your cousin again?" I asked, indicating her nails.

  "Yeah," she said brightly. "New boyfriend, new nails."

  Maybe I should do something about my nails, but lace and diamonds just didn't go with the jeans and sweats I wore most of the time. I probably should make more of an effort. Sometimes I felt I was failing on the girl front, particularly next to Ella, who had the silky hair, the perfect cat eyes and contoured makeup. Her skin shimmered, her lips were always pink and she smelled like flowers. All the effort I made was my clear glossed nails. When did she have time to do all this stuff? If her room was neat too, I was ready to strangle her.

  "Pepper?" Deseree called from in the back.

  "Yeah?"

  "Can you man the window while I have my break?"

  "Sure," I said. They might as well pay me for doing some work tonight. I walked around the back and took the headphones off her. A few days on here and you got over your nerves about it.

  "A double burger with extra cheese," some guy was screeching down the comm. It wasn't him, more the system. "No, make that two. And fries and cola."

  "Sure," I said and punched it in.

  Up to the window came Dean Snyder, the perfect athlete who had graduated two years earlier and was now on scholarship with Penn State, driving a metallic green Shelby. That car must have cost a fortune, probably 'donated' by his university. Obviously he was home for the summer, and with him was Candice Ripping, the ‘It girl’ from a year before who was just naturally stunning. Soft, light brown hair and a perfect face. They made the most ridiculous couple. I couldn't remember if they were together when Dean was in high school, but they were definitely part of that crowd—the unattainables. But apparently they ate crap like this too.

  Candice's peach-colored skirt was riding high, revealing miles of tanned, slim legs. I took the bill he handed over to me. "Keep the change," he said dismissively. People thought that was a nice thing to do, but it came across as charity. You poor bitch, you work here, here's a dollar twenty which couldn't possibly make up for it.

  Dean and Candice were just proof that social mobility had a limit. They were in their own league and they hung out together, would marry each other and propagate their species. The rest of us were just here to serve them. It was gut wrenching to realize it was actually true, highlighted whenever you came across one of their kind.

  I handed the bag over and Dean raised his eyebrows slightly in thanks. Maybe a little more lingering than necessary. He had the most stunning blue eyes, framed by dark lashes and a cut chin to go along with matching abs (from what I remember). Unfortunately, he wasn't shirtless just at the moment.

  "Nice uniform," Candice said tartly. "Servitude chic?"

  As much as I hated it, my confidence just crumbled. It was like my insecurity was written above my head in flashing neon and she’d just ripped into me. "Bitch," I said as they drove away. I hated that it go
t to me, that something she said actually hurt me. Vacant bitches like her were just pointless. All she did was look pretty. She had nothing else going for her—but the sad truth was that it was enough. Candice would always be part of that crowd, whatever form they warped into now that they'd graduated, a lifetime membership.

  "Dean Snyder just checked you out," Riley said, holding up his palm for a high five.

  "No, he didn't," I said back, ignoring his hanging hand.

  "Enough to have that bitch take a swipe at you. You should have run after him, saying, 'Take me, Dean.'"

  "Are you even aware how revolting you are?"

  "Come on, be honest. Even I get hot at the idea of Dean Snyder pounding me on the hood of his fucking Mustang, and I'm not even into dudes."

  I tried not to smile at the image that formed in my head, but I couldn't help it. Riley splayed out on the hood, his face contorted with… No that was just nasty.

  "Good and hard, Dean. Ah, ah, ah," he said, walking back to the grill. I shook my head.

  "That image is going to stick now."

  "You can image me fucking any time you want, princess," he said, flashing that cheeky smile. "I don't mind."

  "Urgh," I said and turned back to the window.

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  Chapter 7:

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  It was hot today and everyone was exhausted from it. I could see the shimmer on the tarmac out of the entrance way to the service area in the back. The delivery truck had just been and I'd had to wait for them to move on before I could take my break, itching for a smoke. The sun would set soon, but it was going to be a steamy night, which could or could not bring out the loonies.