Free Life of the Party by Christine Anderson

in the traditional manner, I joined Riley
at his table, but I sat so Grey was in plain view. He had changed
into dark jeans and a long sleeved grey shirt, his leather
bracelets were back, his hair messy out of the confining bandana.
The breath caught in my throat just looking at him, even from afar.
The guys with him were laughing, flicking their cigarettes messily
at the ashtray. I was surprised to recognize both the guitar player
and the drummer from Serpentine, Grey’s band.
    “Hey, I didn’t
know they worked here too.” I whispered to Riley, motioning with my
eyes. He turned briefly to look over his shoulder, popping his gum
as he did so.
    “Who, Zack and
Alex? No, they don’t work here. They work at some lumberyard
downtown. They’re always around though, scamming free food and
stuff. They’re in Grey’s band, and Ralph doesn’t seem to mind.”
    “Who is this
Ralph? I keep hearing about him but I’ve never seen him. He didn’t
even hire me. That Mark guy did.” I nodded towards the spiky-haired
blonde trying to wrestle a cash-out slip from the register. He was
young, maybe twenty-seven or thirty, with a healthy obsession for
eighties rock. Even now, Cheap Trick could be heard playing
somewhere in the back of the kitchen.
    “Yeah, Mark’s
the manager. He’s a good guy. He’s here like twenty-four seven too,
so he does most of the hiring and scheduling and shit. Ralph’s the
owner but he hardly shows, mostly if there’s firing to do, or in
the afternoon … he likes the nightlife. Don’t worry though, you’ll
meet him.” Riley sighed and rolled his eyes. “Ralph always insists
on meeting the new waitresses personally.”
    “What is he,
some kind of perv?”
    “Let’s call him
very bored and leave it at that.” Riley chuckled. I raised my
eyebrows but let it go. I was dying for a cigarette, and watching
Grey and his friends smoke was not making it easier. How could
Riley do it?
    “Go ahead,
Zee.” Riley smiled. “You can smoke. I won’t renege on our little
contract.”
    “What are you,
reading my mind now?” I chuckled, but reached gladly for my
cigarettes.
    “It’s not hard
to read your mind when you’re so damn predictable. Go ahead.”
    “Is it very
hard?”
    “No. Don’t
worry about it.”
    “Okay.” I knew
Riley was lying, but I was also desperate. I tried to keep the
smoke from reaching him and inhaled happily. I glanced at Grey and
his band mates again over Riley’s shoulder. They seemed to be
planning out their next gig. I paid close attention, trying to hear
the date of their next show.
    “So, how’d it
go anyway?” Riley wondered quietly, noticing my rapt interest in
the table behind him. I shot him a puzzled look. “With Grey,” he
explained, “isn’t that what you got this job for? So, how’d it
go?”
    “Well ….” I
smiled, and told Riley the whole shameful “screw you” story, my
voice quiet enough that we wouldn’t be overheard. My friend was
laughing by the end of it and he shook his head at my
foolishness.
    “Leave it to
you, Mackenzie. Grey’s a jerk to everyone here, some days worse
than others—it takes a while to warm him up. Most people just
accept it and try to ignore him. Not you though. You’re probably
the only person that has ever stood up to him.” He shook his head
again, and chuckled mirthlessly.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.”
Riley muttered. “I just bet you made an impression, that’s
all.”
    “I wouldn’t
count on it.” I argued, but at the same time, I desperately hoped
so. I blew my smoke out and glanced at Grey’s table again. The band
mates were totally immersed in conversation, a serious one, by the
looks of it. I watched carefully, wishing that Grey would look at
me again.
    “Yeah, you made
an impression. Of course you did.” Riley sighed quietly in his
chair. I was aware of his eyes on me, but was too busy looking at
Grey to acknowledge him.
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER
8
     
    My life was in
the doldrums. I couldn’t