Free Night Shifts Black by Alyson Santos

this particular
application. Do you think they commissioned a full research study or just went
with the classic focus group?” Luke asks, and then I catch the amusement
seeping into his expression. He’s mocking us, glancing back and forth between Casey’s
forced admiration and my forced enthusiasm.
    I can’t help but smile
in return.
    “You were talking
about me, weren’t you,” he reasons. “Of course you were.”
    “We care about you,” Casey
responds.
    “What did he tell
you?” Luke asks me.
    I can’t tell if he’s
defensive, curious, angry, or intending to elaborate.
    “C’mon, man. Nothing,”
Casey interjects.
    I nod. “Seriously,
Luke. Nothing. You have a good friend here.”
    “Right…”
    We all quiet again and
pretend our French toast is a fascinating mystery.
    “You know, just once
it would be nice if people stopped treating me like a mental patient,” Luke
spits suddenly.
    Casey grunts. “Then
maybe you should stop acting like one,” he mutters.
    I glance at him,
startled, as Luke’s eyes narrow.
    “Yeah? Well, I don’t
remember asking you to stop in and check up on me. I don’t want you guys
dropping in on me because I don’t need a nurse.”
    Now, Casey is getting
riled. “Check up on you? I’m not checking up on you! You’re my best friend, my
brother! And I thought I was yours. Sorry if I’m supposed to be ok with you
just disappearing from my life, but I’m not!”
    “You know what? This
was obviously a mistake.”
    “What? Becoming human
again for five minutes?” Casey hisses. He leans forward with a fire I can feel
across the table. “Look, I get it. You had a rough road. But it’s time to get
back up and move on. You think you’re the only one who’s suffering? You think
yours was the only life ruined? You know that’s not fair, and if anyone can
understand this, it’s me.
    “And anyway, what
about the other guys, huh? What about your band, your friends ? What about our dreams and lives that got all messed up
when you walked away and left us with a shell of what we could’ve been? Do you
ever think about that? You think we want to be playing nightclubs and opening
for singing competition winners when we were booking stadiums a year ago? The
Calisto Festival? God, what a joke.” He draws in a breath and tosses his napkin
on the table. “At some point suffering gets old and is just selfish. Call me
when you’re ready to be friends again.”
    With that, Casey
pushes his chair back and storms from the table. I don’t watch his exit because
I’m too worried about Luke. He’s staring again, the blank look on his face that
tells me he’s far away from this place. I’m not sure if I should say something
to try to draw him out of it, or if returning him to the present will only make
things worse.
    “It’s hard to argue
that, isn’t it?” he asks suddenly, surprising me. I glance over, expecting a
vacant monologue, but he’s watching me. I’m not sure what the right answer is.
I don’t even understand the question.
    “What’s hard to
argue?”
    “That I ruined
everything.”
    “You mean the band?
Their careers?”
    “No, I mean everything.”
    He pushes back from
the table and slaps some bills down on the table. Actually, he slaps a lot of
bills on the table.
    “That’s what I do,
Callie. I ruin things.”
    Now, I really don’t
know what to say. I don’t know how to counter something I know nothing about.
    “Luke…”
    “I should go. Good
luck.”
    I want to stop him as
he leaves, suddenly terrified his strange ending was a final goodbye. Of course
I need to stop him. It can’t end like this. But I don’t. By the time I know what
I need to do, it’s too late.
    I bite my lip instead
and stare at the table of French toast and assorted cash. I gather the bills
into a neat little pile and realize they aren’t all from this country. After
pulling out the foreign ones, I signal Darryn who quietly hands over the check
and spares me the embarrassment