Chapter 31

The crisp autumn air clings to my skin as I step out of my dorm room, excitement buzzing in my chest. Today marks the beginning of my second week working at the restaurant, and despite the long hours and sore feet, I can’t shake the feeling of accomplishment that comes with each shift - especially when I know I’ll be getting my first paycheck today.

Slater and I haven’t spoken much beyond the usual polite chit-chat, but I feel his eyes on me often whenever I’m working. So far, he’s been on almost every shift I’ve worked. And if it were anyone else, it’d be creepy. But Slater makes me feel…safe.

I know he’s still not happy about me working at the bar,but he knows I’m not going to quit, so it’s become something neither of us talks about. He glowers at me every time I walk through the doors, but watches over me like a hawk and always has my back, so I can’t complain.

I long to ask him about his birthday and his subsequent disappearance, but we’re not there yet. Before all that, I thought things were getting back to how they used to be between us, but that closeness has gone again, and I know if I start asking personal questions he’ll just clam up again. Or worse, look for a way to get me fired from the bar, and I can’t afford to have that happen.

I miss his friendship, but having him in my life like this is better than not seeing him at all.

As I make my way through the bustling streets of campus, my mind replays the events of the past week over and over. Working alongside Slater has been both challenging and surprisingly rewarding. Despite our complicated history, we’ve managed to find a rhythm working together, our shared experiences forging a bond stronger than ever before.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost don”t notice Slater waiting for me at the entrance to the restaurant. He stands casually, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he catches sight of me approaching.

“Morning, Cora,” he greets, his voice warm and inviting.

“Morning, Slater,” I reply, returning his smile with a hint of amusement. “Ready for another day of chaos?”

Slater chuckles, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Always.”

Together, we push open the door and step into the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. Somehow we’ve both ended up on the breakfast shift, and I’m glad to finally have a Saturday night to myself. Not that I have plans.

The familiar sounds of clinking glasses and murmured conversations fill the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon.

As we make our way to the staff area, I steal glances at Slater out of the corner of my eye. There’s something different about him today, a certain lightness to his step and a sparkle in his eyes that I haven”t seen before.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

Slater grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Oh, you’ll see soon enough, Cora,” he replies cryptically, his lips quirking into a playful smirk.

Before I can press him further, the familiar voice of our manager cuts through the air, calling out instructions for the day’s tasks. With a shared glance and a knowing smile, Slater and I set to work, our camaraderie and shared sense of purpose guiding us through the busy day ahead.

As the hours fly by in a whirlwind of activity, I find myself slipping into the familiar rhythm of the restaurant with ease, until everything comes grinding to a halt.

The sudden hush that falls over the restaurant is almost palpable, a stark contrast to the usual lively atmosphere. My heart skips a beat as I glance around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sudden shift in mood. And then I see him.

Leaning against the entrance, surrounded by a group of rowdy friends, is the guy who was harassing me on campus and here at the bar. I’ve seen him in my psych class since that day, and even though I’ve tried to keep a distance from him, he still hangs around like a bad smell.

Today, his face is bruised and swollen, a stark contrast to the arrogant smirk he usually wears. But what catches my attention the most is the way he refuses to meet my gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as if he’s afraid of what he might see in mine.

A mixture of shock and confusion washes over me as I try to make sense of the scene unfolding before me. What happened to him? Why does he look like he’s been through hell? And why won’t he look at me?

“Cora…” Slater’s overly chipper voice breaks through my thoughts, his hand resting gently on my arm as he steps closer. “Are you okay?” he asks, but I can hear the smile in his tone.

I nod slowly, my eyes still fixed on the guy at the entrance. “I…I don’t know,” I murmur. “What happened to him?”

Slater follows my gaze, his expression hardening, even as he smirks as he takes in the scene before us. “Beats me,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders, his voice tight with anger, and….glee? Slater turns to look at me, his expression serious, but looking forced. “But whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. I expect he deserved it though,” he whispers the last sentence, almost conspiratorially.

I’m breathing heavily, eyes wide, as I press my hand to my chest. I feel like I can’t get enough air into my lungs, but I don’t know why. Is it a coincidence that someone who’s been harassing me suddenly looks like they got the shit kicked out of them? It must be. I don’t know anyone who would do this, or what their reasons would be.

Before I can respond, our manager, Shelly, appears at my side, concern etched on her face as she surveys the situation. “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. She grabs my arm tightly, searching me and the area around me for any sign of what’s happening.

I tear my eyes away from the guy at the entrance, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. “I…I’m not sure,” I stammer, my thoughts still reeling from the shock of seeing him in such a state. “But I’m curious.”

With a nod from our manager, Slater and I weave our way through the crowded restaurant until we reach the entrance. The guy and his friends tense up as we approach, but Slater holds up a hand, a silent warning for them to stay put.

“What happened to you?” I ask, my voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and…concern? God, why do I feel sorry for this guy? He’s been a bit of a jerk - nothing too bad but refusing to take no for an answer and causing me a headache - and yet here I am trying to make sure he’s alright.

I’m an idiot.

Judging from the way Slater sighs, he thinks so too.

The guy shifts uncomfortably, still refusing to meet my gaze. “It’s…none of your business,” he mutters, his voice barely audible above the din of the restaurant.

“None of my business?” I repeat incredulously, my anger bubbling up. “You’ve been harassing me for weeks, and now you show up here looking like you’ve been run over by a truck, and you expect me to just ignore it?”

He flinches at my words, his facade crumbling as guilt flashes across his bruised features. “I…I’m sorry,” he stammers, finally meeting my gaze with a look of shame. “I didn’t mean for things to escalate. I just…I really liked you, Cora, and I wanted to go out with you.”

“I told you no…several times,” I murmur uncomfortably.

“I know. And I should have respected that, and you, the first time you said it. I’m sorry.”

I take a step closer, my anger melting away as I take in the sight of him standing there. Sure, he’s battered and broken, but it’s more than that. The cockiness of before is gone and he seems more…respectful now?

“What happened?”

He hesitates, his eyes flickering to Slater before returning to mine. “It was…a misunderstanding,” he admits, his voice filled with regret. “I…I got in over my head, and things got out of control.”

Slater steps forward, his expression hard as he fixes the guy with a steely gaze. “You better hope you don’t find yourself in the middle of any other misunderstandings,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “Because next time, people won’t be so forgiving.”

The guy nods solemnly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I understand,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the din of the restaurant. “Come on, guys, let’s go somewhere else.”

With a final nod from Slater, we turn and make our way back into the restaurant, leaving the guy and his friends standing there discussing where they’re going to go instead. They turn and walk out, obviously deciding to have breakfast elsewhere. As I resume my duties, a sense of unease lingers in the air.

Did Slater beat that guy up? Or was it just a coincidence, and he was seizing the opportunity to remind the guy to leave me alone? Was he beat up for harassing me? Or for some other reason? It’s hard to tell. It looked nasty though, and even though he was a bit of a pain, it’s not like he deserved to be injured that badly.

Though I guess he was well enough to get up and come for an early brunch with his mates, so it’s not like he’s bed-bound.

“You’re too nice, Cora,” Slater calls, catching me wrapped up in my thoughts and shaking his head with a smirk. “Let it go.”

As our shift draws to a close and the last customers trickle out, I can”t help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over me - I feel bad about it - but I am glad that David or whatever his name is won’t be bothering me anymore.

“Thanks for today, Slater,” I say softly, my voice filled with genuine appreciation, even though I’m not exactly sure what I’m thanking him for.

Slater grins, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anytime, Cora. Anytime.”