to attention. "My brother used to play football against them, that was three years ago. He ain't done nothing since—"
"I own this bar, Heather!" A roar came from inside. "I do too do crap."
She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, he hasn't done anything except screw my friends and run off ALL MY HELP." Her voice rose so he would hear inside.
She was awarded with another curse, but she chuckled softly as she took another drag from her cigarette. "Anyways, what's your name? Mine's Heather Jax. Idiot inside is Brandon, and my pops owns the diner side of our humble abode inside."
"Humble abode?" It was a run-down dive, and the customers gave me the feeling most had come straight from being incarcerated. The sign out front had the name Manny's scrawled over it in big white lettering on a black background with a green arrow pointed downwards. I'd never seen the place before, but what caught my attention had been Heather's screaming. The longer I sat there, the more a possible scenario played in my head.
She blew out the rest of her second cigarette. As she ground it into the bowl, I expected her to light up a third, but she merely folded back in her chair. Then she frowned and shot forward. "Hold on. Be right back." She was inside in the blink of an eye but back just as quickly with two Coronas. As she sat down and handed one over, she laughed. It was such a deep-throated sound that I knew Logan would've been all about her within seconds of meeting.
"Yeah, I guess you could call this place our humble abode." She shook her head as a wry grin curved a corner of her lip upwards. She tilted the bottle back and took a long drag. "It's ours and ours alone, no goddamn corporation owns it. We run it. Hell, we breathe this place. My mom bought it when I was three, but she took off when I was six. My dad raised us, the three of us, and we help out as much as we can. Brad's off playing football now. He got scouted to play for some big college across the country, but Brandon stayed. He does school online and runs the bar side of things. Dad does the books and I run the diner."
I had yet to take a sip from my beer.
She eyed me, half done with her own. "You sure I don't know you?"
Of course, she knew me. It didn't take a genius for me to realize this girl went to Fallen Crest Public. If she went there, she knew Mason and Logan, and chances were high that she had seen me at a party with them. Everyone went to those parties.
But a sixth sense nagged me. This girl didn't seem to give two cents about who Mason and Logan were. I wondered, no—I worried that she would hold it against me, and I didn't want that. I really didn't want that because as soon as I heard her yelling at her brother I already knew I wanted a job there. I wanted a place to hide from my mother as I tried to stay away from Mason for the month and this would be perfect.
"Are your customers dangerous?" The question slipped out before I realized how stupid that sounded, and offensive. God, what was my problem? "I'm sorry—"
Another deep-throated laugh sounded from her as she threw her head back. Then she finished the rest of her beer and tossed it into the bonfire. "Nah. No, they'd like you to think that, but they're all harmless. The most dangerous is Gus, but it's only because his farts are lethal. He lets them rip all the time."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Fondness lit up her eyes, but they grew serious after a moment. She focused back on me. "Come on, tell me straight. How do I know you?"
I hesitated. But then I went with my gut. She would be more pissed when she found out later, and I knew she would. It was inevitable. "I'm dating Mason Kade." Then I waited. The reaction would vary. She might want to use me, she might kick me out, or …I wasn't sure.
"Well damn then." She shot inside for another beer and clinked it against mine. "You got balls dating that one."
My mouth almost fell down. There was nothing, just…nothing. "I had a feeling you'd for sure send me off after I
Chogyam Trungpa, Chögyam Trungpa