Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"You need shoes too."
"I need a lot of things." I shake my head.
The bell over the door rings, Pam rushing into the diner. “Sorry,” she says, her normal greeting when she gets here.
“You’re fine,” I tell her. I know Pam is likely late because of her little brother. She takes care of him. I’ve even watched him a few times for her. I never mind covering for her.
“How are the tips tonight?” she asks, her gaze flicking over to Niki, noticing him for the first time. Not that you can miss him.
“They’re shit.”
“Yay,” Pam sighs, tying her apron on, her eyes flicking from me to Niki.
"This is Niki," I tell her. He gives her a chin nod. "He's super chatty," I tease. Pam’s brows lift, neither of them finding me amusing. I was only trying to break the sudden awkwardness.
"Hey, can you help me in the back? I'm supposed to change out the ice bin."
"Sure." I have no clue what she is talking about. Pam disappears through the swinging door into the kitchen.
"She's going to warn you about me," Niki says before I can follow her.
"Do I need to be warned?"
"Probably." He stands, pulling out his wallet. I don’t want him to leave, and a pang of disappointment fills me. “I’ll wait out front and walk you home.” It’s not a question.
He drops money down onto the counter before heading out front. I grab the hundred, still not sure what to make of this man or the things he’s making me feel.
Chapter Seven
NIKI
It's a strange feeling to be happy knowing that you are being badmouthed by two adults a mere thirty feet away. Between the new waitress and the line cook, Andy’s getting an earful about how she needs to stay away from me. Neither of them like me, which means Andy’s got some decent adults on her side.
If I were standing in their shoes, I’d be reading Andy the riot act. Stay away from that boy. He’s trouble. You’re only going to get hurt, and by hurt, I mean probably dead. I’ve got a baby sister, a whole five years old, and if I caught her near a Rider, I’d have to lock her in her room for a month. It’s why I don’t spend money on shit like Bam. I’m socking it away so that by the time Julie is in high school, we’ll be living in the suburbs with Julie going to one of those schools that makes you wear plaid skirts and blazers. A school like Clark goes to…well, not his school, obviously.
I roll a toothpick from one side of my mouth to the other as I picture what’s taking place near the ice maker. The new waitress is saying that I’m bad news, I’m part of a gang that does bad stuff. The new waitress doesn’t look like she’s one to curse. She was dressed like a mom with a food stain on her shirt that her work apron will cover. Bob, the line cook, is standing to the side with his arms folded and the lion’s head tattoo on his biceps popping off. He doesn’t say anything but only offers grunts of agreement whenever the new waitress makes a good point.
Even though those two adults are right to warn Andy that I suck, somehow I can’t let that be the last image of me in her mind, which is why I’m walking her home. That and because the Pipefitters are still nursing their eighth refill of coffee. At this point, they’re probably running on nothing but caffeine and anger.
The bell above the entry door to the café jangles, and soon I see two pairs of scuffed brown work boots in my periphery. I glance over my shoulder to see the new waitress and Andy standing by the pie case looking out the window at us. No matter what these assholes say, I can’t be provoked, or the new waitress will lock Andy in her room for a month.
“You like your pie, boy?” the one nearest to me says. It’s the one with the hair, both on his face and his head.
I shove my fists in my pockets and keep my mouth sealed shut.
“Do you like your pie sweet or tart?” the man presses. When I continue to be silent, he rambles on. “I like them sweet. Sweeter the better. If your girl is tart, you make her eat some pineapple. You ever try that, boy?”
There’s a light tap on the back of my head. “You too good to answer?”
The bald man has taken up space to my right. The two Pipefitters now stand on either side of me, boxing me in.
Technically, the diner is in what’s called no-man’s-land. No one owns this territory. It’s a buffer zone between Pipefitter’s north and Rider’s large sprawling territory that runs south of Cherry Street all the way to the river on the east and to the highway on the west. Basically, anything that happens here doesn’t impact the two gangs. Technically. In reality, though, if I get beaten up, then the other Riders would be honor bound to avenge me. If the Pipefitters lose, then they’d probably accept the loss and sweep it under the carpet. What are they going to do? Send a squad after me? That’d be them admitting that some teenager bested two of their veterans.