Behind the Eight Ball

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Chapter 57 - Scars

I have no idea how Paris deduced this so quickly but I just start angrily scooping out ice cream while she fills up the blender cup with milk.

 

“Damn!” Paris said putting the cup in the blender.

 

She says nothing else, just helps me get all the shakes made. Paris tells her dad that she’s going to help me deliver them to the tables.

 

“You know you’re not supposed to be on the floor!” her dad yells from the cook line.

 

“He just got sat with a huge party from Mike’s school, Dad.”

 

“Damn it! I forgot tonight’s the last night of the play. Sorry, Finn. Look since you’re not serving any alcohol Paris, you can help out, but just those tables.”

 

“Got it, Dad.”

 

Once we get past the kitchen doors, Paris stops me. “Which table?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your ex? Which table is she sitting at?”

 

“Twenty-three. Why?” I ask her but Paris doesn’t answer. Instead, she takes the tray from me that had the 2 vanilla and 1 strawberry shakes on it. “Paris, no!”

 

But it’s too late. She’s already over there. “Who ordered the strawberry shake?” I hear her ask and the girl next to Shawna raises her hand like she’s in class and wants to ask a question.

 

“Alright, so there’s only two left, Vanilla and Vanilla and they go to?”

 

Shawna and Brynn point to themselves. I hand out the rest of the drink orders to the other tables.

 

“Hey, don’t I know you?” Shawna asks Paris.

 

“Possible? I’m here all the time, so you’ve probably seen me before.”

 

“No… no, you’re Mikey’s little sister. Aren’t you?”

 

Paris smiles and she tucks the empty tray under her arm. “Guilty as charged, but try not to let that get out will you. I’ve got a rep to uphold you know.”

 

“You’re Paris?” Brynn said and I watch her give Paris a once over look that makes my tick of laughing at inappropriate moments want to kick in BIG TIME.

 

“That’s right. Do I know you?” Paris asked but I’m pretty sure she’s just figured out who my ex is.

 

“No,” Brynn said, but I see her dunking her straw a few times like she’s picturing drowning a particular someone, good… well not good that Brynn wants to hurt Paris but good that it’s not just me that feels something.

 

“So, what can I get you all to eat?” Paris turns her smile up 1000 watts.

 

“I thought Finn was our waiter?” Shawna asked obviously disappointed, probably hoping for some more drama to occur between Brynn and me and excited that she had accidentally gotten a front row seat to it.

 

“I’m just giving him a hand. He’ll bring your order out. He goes to your school right? I just love that guy.”

 

“Love, huh?” Shawna’s ears perk up and I’m having a difficult time paying attention to the orders I’m taking and have to ask them to repeat themselves.

 

“Yeah, he’s really helped my Dad this weekend by stepping in when people called out. He’s just a great guy, you know. I’m so glad he’s decided to work here.”

 

“I’ll bet!” Shawna states nudging the girl next to her and they both giggle.

 

“We’ll take a large extra cheese pizza. I’m sure not even Finn can find a way to screw that up,” Adam scoffs.

 

“I imagine it would difficult as I’m the one who takes care of the pizzas. So one extra cheese? Anything else?” Paris asked not even the slightest bit phased by Adam’s attitude.

 

The two girls shake their heads no and Brynn hasn’t looked up from her shake since she asked Paris to declare who she was.

 

I put the orders I took in and meet Paris back in the kitchen. She’s already making the extra cheese pizza.  “Why did you do that?” I ask her, moving on immediately to help her out with the other pizzas that were ordered.

 

“Do what? Help you?” Paris counters as she places the pizza on the conveyor belt.

 

“Help me?” I say incredulously. “By what? Antagonizing my ex-girlfriend?”

 

“It’s the black girl right?” Paris said, and my hand stills putting on the sauce. I just stare at her, and she laughs. “I know it’s the girl with the streaks in her hair.” Paris confesses, “She’s cute. I can see why you like her. She doesn’t seem to like me though.”

 

“I may have mentioned you to her once.”

 

“You talked about me?”

 

“Yeah, sort of?”

 

“What did she say about me?”

 

“She thought I should date you,” I said bitterly remembering every moment of that conversation in vivid detail.

 

“Really?” Again with the note of interest. “She did break up with you right?”



Ruechari

Edited: 19.11.2019

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