The Sophomore (College Years 2)

“Did he take it okay?” Gracie asks.

“I know he was disappointed, but he’ll get over it. There are so many girls on this campus for him to choose from,” I say.

“But you’re special, Ellie.” Hayden smiles at me. “You care so much. About everyone.”

“I care too much,” I stress, sighing as I lean back against the seat. “I should go back to work.”

The crowds coming in have slowly diminished, but the restaurant itself is pretty full, despite the late hour. Meaning I have lots of tables to clean still, and plenty of customers to help.

After I hug the girls and tell them to enjoy their dinner, I make the rounds before heading outside to the patio to clear off a few tables. It’s starting to cool down more in the evenings, and the breeze sweeping through the outside area is chilly. I shiver, dumping all the dirty dishes in a tub so I can take them back t

o the kitchen, not bothering to check on who’s sitting outside.

That’s my first mistake.

“Hey cutie.”

I ignore the slurring male voice, thinking he must be talking to someone else.

“Sweetheart. Come over here,” the same voice asks a minute later. There’s pounding on the table, making the glasses rattle. “I have a question for you.”

Okay. Pretty sure he’s talking to me.

I glance over my shoulder to see an older guy sitting alone, a few empty beer glasses sitting on the table in front of him. He tips to the side on his stool, almost falling off of it, and I’d make the assumption that he’s pretty drunk.

Ugh.

“Can I help you?” I ask, pasting a polite smile on my face.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” He blinks at me, as if he’s trying to bring me into focus. “Wanna come sit with me? Chat for a few?”

“I’m working,” I say, my voice flat. God, I really hate creepers.

“Yeah, whatever. Think you’re too good for me, don’t ya? Get me another one of these then.” He waves his index finger at the empty glasses. “And hurry. I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes for that asshole bartender of yours to bring me my order.”

“Give me a few minutes,” I tell him as I quickly wipe down the table I’m standing next to.

“I’ve already been waiting. Knowing that guy, he’s gonna come over here and kick me out. It’s happened before.” He barks out a laugh, then burps.

Ew.

With my smile frozen in place, I tell him, “I’ll be right back.”

I hurriedly leave the patio area, bursting through the double doors into the restaurant and stopping by the bar to let Chuck know the guy outside wants another beer.

“The dark-haired guy sitting alone? Yeah, he already tried ordering another beer, and I told him no.” Chuck shakes his head, his expression disgusted. “I refuse to serve him. He’s drunk as hell and belligerent. Had to kick him out of here myself last week. He was picking fights with other customers.”

“Oh.” My smile fades. “Well, maybe you could go tell him that you won’t serve him? I think he’s expecting you.”

“Ha, I bet he is. I’d be glad to.” Chuck wipes his hands on a clean, dry rag before tossing it down. “And if I have to kick him out again, so be it. We don’t get a lot of asshole drunks in this place, but he more than makes up for it.”

“Thank you, Chuck, for taking care of him,” I say. “I appreciate it.”

By the time I’m coming out of the kitchen, Chuck and another guy that works here are personally escorting the rowdy customer out of the restaurant, each of them holding one side of the guy, practically dragging him out. The customer is grumbling and carrying on, and when he spots me, he points a finger straight at me, his face bright red.

“It’s all your fault they’re kicking me out! You bitch!”

Everyone inside the building goes quiet, swiftly looking from him to me.