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Delinquents

After about an hour of absolutely nothing to do, we finally get our first few customers of the day. The group consists of two ladies and one guy who's about as tall as I am all around their mid-twenties. If my intuition is correct, girls look like twins, but one was a lot taller than the other.

The guy wore a dark red college jacket, baggy jeans, spotless white sneakers, and a black beanie. I would call him an absolute meathead but his height makes him look like a buff baby. Not too much to say about him because he looks and acts like your average dumb jock.

The taller girl, unfortunately, grabs my attention with her dumb, long, purple hair and her obvious, pink contact lenses. She wears a salmon-red trench coat, dark jeans, tall black boots, and has long, annoying, diamond earrings dangling from her ear lobes. The way she talks and laughs with her stupid posh accent makes me resent her even more than her sister.

Finally, the shorter of the two has short, faded, blue hair and has some pretty good taste in style in my opinion. Her clothing consists of a cute, blue and black, top and skirt, and matching combat boots. Though, I can't help but wonder how she's fairing in this two hundred seventy-seven Kelvin weather... Oh, she's shivering.

The manlet approaches the counter with the tiny goth girl and stares at our menu as if he's never seen the Altain alphabet in his life.

"Pssh, the food here is so cheap!" the guy says loudly in his shockingly high voice, "Alright, Fio, what'chu want?"

The blue-haired girl clutches his arm- I'm assuming they're dating- and answers, "I want pancakes."

"Which pancakes? There are tons of 'em." The jock asks in a suddenly frustrated tone.

"The blueberry ones. Those are my favorite."

"Alright, that's cool... Yo, Zy!" He calls to the purple-haired chick, "Whatchu want?"

"I don't care! Just get something already," She, unfortunately, responded, "And make the order to-go. I can't stand being in this dump anymore."

If I had the energy, I would get out of my booth, walk over to her smug-ass face, and punch her square in the nose.

I hold in my urges, lazily get out of my booth, and make my way behind the ordering counter. The group watched my every move which made me feel pretty uncomfortable. Seeing the jock and his blue-haired girlfriend up close revealed that they actually look to be around my age. I could care less about the walking street lamp behind them, though.

"Um, welcome to the Solis Diner," I hesitantly say, trying not to make eye contact, "What can I get for you?"

"Uh," The dude looks up at the menu again, "I'll get the Meal of The Week, blueberry pancakes for her, and a strawberry milkshake for her sister."

I look up and mistakenly make eye contact with the smug bitch who is glaring at me from afar.

"O-oh, sure thing," I stutter, "We'll have that out for you in a minute. Is that everything-?"

"Make it to-go, too." He cut me off.

My eyes close for a moment and I take a deep breath, "Your total is one hundred and ninety-eight Jivits."

I make eye contact with the one in the back again and feel my very soul burn with rage for some reason. The guy slides his Jivit card into the register's payment slot and pays for the food.

The register beeps and I step away from the counter uttering an awkward, "It'll be done in a little bit."

All three of them completely ignore me and start talking to each other.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

…

Twenty-five minutes pass and I return to the counter with their food in a large to-go box. I don't give it to them at all. I set the box next to the register, and hope they just take it and leave. This whole day was just a mixed bag of emotions for me and I don't want to deal with these weirdos any longer. The group is still standing there talking. I bet they didn't even hear me come out of the kitchen. Whatever, it's not my problem anymore.

I begin to make my way back to my booth to relax, but my movements are suddenly halted by a hand tapping on my shoulder. Quickly spinning around, my eyes meet with the face of that tall annoying chick looking down at me, scowling.

"So, who are you?" She asked with a subtle hand gesture.

I take a deep breath and respond with, "Who's asking?"

"Me, you moron! I'm the one talking to you!" She shouted in her irritating voice.

"Oh, uh," I stutter, "I'm Sachi. Why?"

"Weird name," She says, "So, what's your problem, huh?"

'Just keep playing dumb, Sachi,' I think to myself in reassurance, 'Embarrassment is just a small price to pay for these jerks to leave... Hopefully.'

I take another deep breath and ask, "Pr-problem? What are you talking about?"

"Don't act like I didn't see you staring at me while Han and Fio were ordering!" She shouted again.

'She's upset about me looking at her? This bitch must be crazy.'

"Uh," I stutter once again, "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was staring."

I turn around and take a few more steps to the booth, but she grabs my shoulder again, a little harder this time.

"I'm not done talking to you," She continues, "You think you're hot shit, don't you? You think you can just ignore me and walk away like that?"

"Leave me alone," I say and pull my shoulder out of her grip.

"Ey, Zyla," Han said, walking towards her, "That's enough. We don't want you exploding in public again. Remember what happened at the Skimmed Pink concert?"

'Zyla, huh?' I thought, 'Weird name, but I guess mine is weird too.'

Zyla slowly begins to calm down and she moves back a couple of feet.

"Yeah, you're right," She says, taking a deep breath, "Let's get out of here."

‘Finally.’

The group makes their way to the exit and Zyla says, "Later, moron," before they all leave in unison.

I crawl back into my booth and slump into the seat with my head in my hands. The sound of a car door shutting gets my attention, and I watch as the group drives past the diner and into the distance.

"You alright, Sachi?" I hear Mac's voice behind me. He kind of startled me.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little stressed out."

He kneels next to my booth and rests his arm on the seat.

"Customers get to you?"

I nod.

"Ah, don't you worry about them, hon," He reassures me, "You're a strong girl. Don't let a couple of stuck-up jerks get you down."

Hearing that from him almost makes me smile again, but I keep my cool and simply say, "Thanks."

"I heard there was a pretty bad accident by that old office building down the road," He says, "Those three are probably stuck in traffic now."

He gives me a wink and stands up before patting me on the shoulder. I try to smile but the corners of my mouth fail to move for me.

"Hey," Mac starts again, "What do you say we close early today?"

"Close early?" I ask, a bit shocked, "It's not even past noon."

"Those three were probably the only customers we'll get today. No point in makin' food if nobody's hungry!" He chuckles.

"Yeah, I guess."

I forced myself to scoot out of the booth and stretch even though I didn't need to. Mac has a to-go box underneath his right arm for some reason. It's probably his lunch.

After grabbing our belongings, we head out the door and make our way down the street in the still freezing weather. At least the wind isn't blowing as hard as this morning.

"We have a lot to talk about when we get back to the garage." He says after a short while.

I play dumb once more and ask, "What do you mean?"

"We'll discuss it when we get home, okay?"

I bite my tongue. My thoughts want to escape my mouth, but all I can say is, "Fine," under my breath.

We make our way down our path and eventually return to the garage.