Sometimes I'd see this boy on the corner of Way and Ward, with arms crossed and a collection of sideways glances from everyone around him.
Of course, I'd always take a look, because who wouldn't? He was attractive, though not the kind of attractive that you'd expect to have been proud to hook up with. A rugged kind of attractive - one that you'd find yourself falling in love with in a cheesy apocalypse story when he saves you from a hoard of flesh-eating zombies.
But this wasn't an apocalypse, this was reality, and in reality, I'd most likely never say hello, nor even see him anywhere else other than leaning against the streetlight on the corner of Way street and Ward boulevard. He wouldn't save me from a hoard of zombies, even though I'm pretty sure at least some of them exist, and you'd know what I mean if you walk the halls of any public high school, and he wouldn't fall in love with me after a single glance.
He stood there every other weekday, maybe some Sundays as well, and always kept a solemn look plastered on his chiseled face. As if he was waiting for something, or someone.
"Harley. Get your ass back to work," grumbled my boss, Pap. I rolled my eyes at his annoyingly deep Irish accent and continued wiping down the counter without a reply to his words. Pap waddled over - he kind of resembled an over sized Weeble Wobble toy - and looked over my shoulder, down at the greasy diner counter.
"I still see crumbs." He muttered, though with that, he lumbered away again, back into the kitchen. I glared down at the counter after letting out an irritated sigh, discontinuing the movements of the washcloth in my pale hand.
It was sticky still, and was actually extremely ugly - a bold green color shot across the top in annoying little zig-zags that looked like over-exaggerated lightning bolts and kind of represented exactly what it’d look like if a kindergartner took a green pencil and tried to draw Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ on a giant piece of gray paper.
I glanced back up from the counter, blowing a strand of dark hair out of my eyes, and looked out of the window again, absentmindedly searching for the sullen boy. He had disappeared, as if he'd evaporated into thin air. No one walking around outside seemed to care much, though not many people noticed him there when he actually was present.
"Harley, can you close up for me? Pap is leaving in five, and I have to go pick up my sister from camp." Eli said behind me, placing his large hand on my shoulder, causing me to shudder in surprise. I turned quickly and pressed my back against the edge of the counter, an annoying reflex of mine. I relaxed my now tense shoulders and rolled my eyes - wow, I'm certainly a pro at that - at the way he constantly sneaks up behind me.
He looked surprised as well for a moment, though he let a smile reach his cheeks and flicked my nose gently. The corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled in a way that made people feel welcome and safe around him, despite the amount of times he's scared the absolute shit out of them.
"Sorry, are you okay?" He tilted his head to the side curiously, though that smile still stayed plastered to his lips. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"You never do." I laughed to myself, rolling my neck from side to side before brushing past him, still holding the washcloth in my small hand, which had gotten annoyingly clammy from the dampness of the cloth. I tossed it on the clean part of the counter and redirected my route to the cash register. Eli's eyes watched me as I worked.
"Well, can you - or are you busy? I can ask a friend to pick Jenna up for me if you're in a hurry to get home." He shrugged as he untied his waiters apron, folding it up and placing it onto the counter gently.
"No, I'll live. Besides, I'd like to limit my time spent at home to the smallest amount possible." I talked loudly enough so he could hear me over the clinking and crinkling of coins and cash now in my hands as I count up his share of the tips from the tip jar, though I didn't turn to him. After counting up half of the tips, I finally turned to him and held out my hand full of the cash.
"$20.25 for today. I guess the ladies really liked you." I winked at him playfully, shoving the rest, which was slightly less than his, though I felt he deserved a couple more dollars than I did, into my back pocket. I noticed his gaze flicker to the floor as he let a shy smile creep onto his face. He took the money and straightened it all out, taking out his wallet and delicately putting the money inside. He looked back up at me with only a small hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes showed how grateful he was.
"You were the one working more today. Your shift was about 3 hours longer than mine, you should get all of the tips." He said. His voice was soft and almost reminded me of two smooth stones being rubbed gently together. It was calming, and almost made me tired.
"Oh, don't give me so much credit. Just go, Eli. Get your poor sister." I laughed almost tauntingly at him, wagging my hand at him.
He nodded and gave me a thankful smile, turning and disappearing into the kitchen, where I heard the back door slam loudly. Eli and I had worked together at this place for around a year now - this place being Pap's Burgers and Fries. It wasn't half bad, being a small restaurant that hadn't yet been completely validated by the administration of health.
A lot of people came here, yes, but it was more of a hang out for greaser-like gangs and pink lady-like crews. Having worked here for a year's amount of time, tons of the customer's knew Eli's name and my own, so it was a group of friends here rather than just customers and employees, which is what I liked about the place.
Pap was nice, too, when he wanted to be, and the pay wasn't terrible.
I glanced back out the window, noticing the darkening sky that had turned a cerulean blue in a matter of ten minutes. The skies only seemed to darken faster in my town, which gave it a shorter feeling. Shorter days, shorter minutes, shorter relationships, shorter deaths, shorter lifespans. Everything seemed to be 5 minutes long, no matter what you did.
I heard the door's fan turn on, which was there mainly to just keep the bugs out, and I walked around the side of the counter and into the front of the store, groaning exasperatedly to myself at the thought of someone walking right into the store as I was closing. Those were the kind of people you grow to despise.
"We aren't open." I said, loud enough so that the person could hear over the annoying air conditioning system that really took it's sweet time to get the hint and turn off.
No one was in the front of the shop, so I just shrugged to myself, knowing that the stupid fan could turn on by itself sometimes, and shuffled lazily toward the small room in the back of the diner by the name of 'the locker room'. There was nothing extremely important about it, other than that we just stick our valuables in there, nothing else.
I wondered - and also hoped, just in the least - that the fan had turned on because the boy had come into the shop to finally introduce himself. He'd smile, something I'd actually kill to see just once, and hold out his hand, that dumb leather jacket hanging perfectly on his shoulders, the leather crinkling quietly as he moves to kiss my hand. That stupid leather jacket made him so much more gorgeous. I've never actually met someone who sports a leather jacket as well as the street lamp boy - and who even wears leather jackets anymore?
I shook my head, my mind having wandered straight back to him yet again. It felt so strange to think so much about a boy who I'd never met, I'd never heard his voice and had never felt his touch. Though, believe me, I wish I could.
I shrugged my jacket onto my shoulders, an old college jacket my dad had dug out of his closet and offered to me, and shivered. By now, the fan was off and had left the diner somewhat chilly, which is where the jacket came in handy. I most definitely hadn't finished cleaning up, but it's doubtful that Pap will notice in the morning. After all, I do get here before him.
It was easiest to lock up the diner and leave from the front rather than the back, and that is because there is always some rodent sitting out back ready to scurry under my feet and scare the living shit out of me, so leaving out the front is exactly what I do.
I locked the door and tugged on it a couple times, just to make sure it was actually locked, and spun on my heel, humming a quiet song in my head and strolling right past that damned street lamp. That stupid, stupid street lamp.
I have to hate it because it is the boy's only location that he'll inhabit - the closest I'll ever be to him. You cannot help but despise the things that keep you from what you want, the things that're constantly in your way. Because no matter what I do, his back is always glued to that street lamp.
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