An Unexpected Hunger (4 page)

“I’m doing good. It’s been forever. I heard you moved out to
California.”

“Yeah…I did. For school.”

“How long are you visiting home?”

I shifted the basket full of shampoo, conditioner
, and body wash from one hand to the other, clearing my throat. “Um…I’m not visiting, actually. I moved back.”

“Oh…hey
, that’s cool. Always good to come back home, right?”

I nod
ded my head. “How about you?” I asked, smoothing down my windblown hair.

“
Still living here. I’m interning at the law firm on Main. I’m picking up some prescriptions for my mom. She’s not feeling so good.”

“I’m sorry to hear that
.”

“Yeah…” he trailed off. “But hey, it’s great to see you. You look great.”

I gave him a small smile, knowing it was completely untrue.

“How about we go out for a drink sometime?”

“Sure,” I said. No harm in catching up with an old friend, even if he was six foot tall and chiseled like the statue of David.

I gave
Ethan the number to my cell and headed to the register while he walked towards the pharmacy.

Walking out of the store, I notice
d a new salon that opened across the street. I was pretty sure I had enough money in my bank account to just about cover a haircut. I noticed a sign out front advertising a special on highlights and a cut for fifty dollars. The sliding glass doors shut behind me, and I caught one last reflection of myself before walking over.

* * *

I ran my fingers through my new hair cut. I could no longer feel the hair on my back, only the light brush of it on my neck. The hairdresser said she cut at least seven inches off. With every piece of hair that fell to the floor I felt lighter and lighter.

I listened as she gossiped with me about one of her friend’s husbands and how he was caught cheating with a younger woman. I smiled and handed her clips as
she reached our for them as she muttered words like home wrecker and adulterer. I held my breathe during the whole conversation, uttering not a single word. When she set the timer and walked away, I buried my face in a magazine feeling a little like Hester Prynne, a Scarlet Letter tattooed on my forehead.

I stopped at the red light
and mindlessly drummed my thumbs along the steering wheel. Looking over at the parking lot of the gym across the street, I thought I saw Ricky, leaning against a car. I tried to get a better look, pressing up against the steering wheel. It
was
Ricky, chatting with a pretty blonde. She was wearing nothing but a sports bra and itty bitty shorts. I stared as she smiled, swaying her gym bag back and forth. No doubt Ricky was spewing his unexplainable charm at her.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered to myself. The car behind me honked, knocking me out of my stupor. I stepped on the gas, hoping Ricky didn’t know it was me in the car, staring
yet again.

I rushed back home, hoping Nick had seen the note saying I would be right back with his car. That was three hours ago
, and I was sure that I was in for it when I got back home.

“Nick!” I called, throwing his keys on the kitchen table.

I heard a moan emanating from upstairs. I peeked in his room before walking in. Nick was still sprawled face down on the bed, this time only in his boxers. The aspirin I left on the table was gone, and the glass of water was empty.

“Nick? Are you alive?”

Another long moan and he gestured to the windows. “The light,” he said. “It’s melting my brain. Close the blinds.” He flopped his arm over his head, covering the nice shiner over his eye.

“I don’t think it’s the sunlight melting your brain,” I said, drawing the curtains closed. “More like that bottle of whiskey you sucked down.
”

“What time is it?” he asked from under his arm.

I looked down at my watch. “Almost one.”

“Shit!” Nick sprung out of bed, causing me to jump back in surprise. “I to
ld Mia I would take her to work. I was supposed to pick her up at one!” He fished his cell phone out of the jeans he wore last night and squinted at the screen. “She called,” he said. “Like fifteen times!” He ran out the door, and seconds later I heard the shower turn on.

I strolled back in my room, throwing the Rite Aid bag on my bed.

Ten minutes later, I heard Nick on the phone, apologizing to Mia and pleading with her to stay put.

“She doesn’t have a car?” I asked.

“It’s in the shop…Hungry?” he asked me, looping a belt through his jeans.

“Sort of,
” I said.

“Come with me
.”

“Why
, so I can be your buffer?”

“Exactly.”

I laughed and headed downstairs after him.

“You have to pay,” I said.

“What? Why?”

“Bec
ause I just spent my last eighty dollars on shampoo and a hair cut.” I pointed to my head.

“Oh yeah…you cut your hair. Looks good.”

“Thanks for noticing,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

* * *

Mia was upset for about fifteen minutes until my brother casted his magical charm, and she forgot all about it. Nick and I ended up staying at the Mug for lunch since he gets the I’m sleeping with the bartender discount.

Mia went down the menu, pointing out things not to order.

“Trust me…you don’t want to eat that here,” she said.

I finally
settled on chicken fingers and fries. It’s pretty hard to mess up fried food.

The bar
was busy with a decent lunch crowd, but not nearly as packed as it was last night. The waitress was another young girl that Mia introduced as Casey. She was pretty with long dark hair and enormous boobs that spilled out of her shirt. She seemed to be the only waitress running around. Every few minutes she zoomed past our table in a frenzy.

“We’re short on staff,” Mia said as
Casey whizzed by again. “Our other waitress, Toni, called this morning and quit without an explanation or anything.”

“
Hey, Lex can help you out!” Nick said.

I scrunched my eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Waitressing…you need a job, right?”

I looked at Mia and then back at Nick, not sure what to say.

Mia’s face lit up. “Really? Would you want to waitress? I mean the money isn’t that bad, and it’s pretty fun on the weekends.”

I worked in several restaurants but never as a waitress and
never
at a bar. It wasn’t on my top ten lists of job I’d love to do, but the idea wasn’t completely terrible. It was a hell of a lot better than sitting at home.

“Sure,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
How hard could it be?

“Great!” she squealed.
“I manage the bar, and I hate hiring new people.” She leaned in closer to my ear. “Casey is nice, but there’s not much going on in that head,” she whispered. “I didn’t hire her.”

I smiled and watch
ed as Casey fumbled with a tray full of food.

“When can yo
u start?” she asked, popping a French fry in her mouth.

“As soon as you need me.”

“Perfect!” she said. “I’ll let Ricky know.”

I
nearly choked on a piece of chicken at the sound of his name. “Ricky? As in your brother?”

“Yeah,” she said, sm
acking Nick’s hand away from her food. “He owns the bar.”

I SMOOTHED MY hands over my shirt, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My uniform for work no longer consisted of a crisp, white, double breasted chef jacket, monogramed with my name. I traded that for a tight, black, cotton blend tee shirt with a picture of a foaming mug of beer, and black shorts. I pulled my hair back in a short pony tail, tucking the loose ends around my ears.

I fiddled with the top of my shirt and debated whether or not too much cleavage was
showing. Compared to Casey, my chest looked a little underwhelming. With a few adjustments, I thought I had the appropriate amount of waitress cleavage…if there was such a thing.

I sat on the bed to put on my black Nike shoes when
my cell phone started to vibrate. The sequence of numbers looked unfamiliar, so I answered the call without a second thought.

“Hello?”

“Lex?”

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of his voice
, and my first instinct was to hang up the phone.

Danny.

I had deleted his number from my phone, wanting to erase any evidence of his existence. It had been months since we last spoke, the last conversation ending the most exhausting six months of my life. That night at my apartment was full of apologies and begging for forgiveness. I told him I forgave him, anything to get him to leave me alone. But the truth was I never could forgive either one of us. I made him promise to never contact me again. After that night, the idea of us would just be an afterthought never to be considered again.

The minute it began to vibrate again
, I threw the phone across the bed like it was on fire. I watched it glide along the comforter, the same set of numbers flashing on the screen. I slowly lowered my hand and picked the phone up, sliding the unlock button.

“You promised,” I said, whispering into the phone.
It was just after six in the morning California time. I pictured Danny sneaking out of his bed and finding some dark closet to call me from.

“I know,” he said
in just above a whisper. “I just…I just had to hear your voice. I can’t believe you actually moved back. I miss you, Lexy.”

I closed my eyes and nodded my head, knowing I should have just let it go to voicemail.

“Danny…I can’t do this right now. Please. Don’t call me again.” I hung up the phone, cutting off whatever he was about to say, and headed downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, steadily talking away on
what was probably the only corded telephone left in existence. She weaved the cord through her fingers, jabbering away to my aunt Carol about the cruise they had planned in a couple of weeks. Nick had finally made it back to campus, but promised to give me a ride to work.

I decided on a bowl of cereal while I waited for Nick to show up, trying to erase the thought of Danny from my mind. I was hoping I didn’t have to change my nu
mber. But if he called again I would have no choice.

I sat at the kitchen table and watch
ed my mother dodge around the kitchen, the cord to the phone plopping me in the head every once in a while.

“I think you’re the only person I know who still uses a landline phone,” I said when she finally hung up.

“I have a cell phone,” she said, picking up some cheap pre-paid phone off the counter. “I just don’t want to waste my minutes.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to eat, watching as she pulled fruits and veggies out of the fri
dge.

“What are you doing with all that?” I asked.

“Juicing,” she said, pulling out a huge juicing machine from the appliance garage. It looked like a mini rocket ship. “It’s a Jack Lalanne juicer I bought on sale. Juicing is very healthy for you. It would do wonders for that skin of yours.”

“What’s wrong with my skin?” I asked with a mouth full of cereal.

Mom peered over at me. “What’s that you’re wearing?”

It was only a couple of days ago since Mia offered me the waitressing job. I was strategically steering clear of telling mom since I knew a lecture was pretty much
guaranteed.

“I got a job,” I said, looking down at my shirt to make sure it was still clean. “Waiting tables.” I braced myself for what was to come next.

“Waiting tables?” she cried. “You?”

I shrugged my shoulders
and nodded my head. “At the Mug.”

“That bar they’re always dragging your brother
out of? I didn’t even know they served food there.”

“If you can call it that…” I muttered.

She shook her head, making her disappointment evident. “Why don’t you try finding another cooking job…or maybe try going back to school. There’s no future in waiting-”

“
I went to school, remember? Culinary? For two years?” I said, a little to forcefully. What I didn’t tell her was that I wasn’t ready to go behind the line yet. The thought alone was anxiety inducing. I was hoping this waitressing job would help ease me back into the kitchen.

She gave me a roll of the eyes
, but didn’t push it any further. She mumbled something about ambition and moving on, but I zoned her out when my brother’s name popped up on my cell phone screen.

“Where you at?” I asked Nick, looking down at my watch. “I have to be there in like ten minutes.”