Ella’s POV:
After a whole week of almost constant anxiety, waiting for Jason to retaliate, nothing happened. But I started noticing sothing weird—extrely weird. His two best friends had suddenly turned into charrs. Whenever I served them at their table, Dylan, I think his na was, would be overly polite when answering my questions. He even used words like "please." Then there was Max—oh, Max—throwing suggestive glances at as if he thought I’d swoon at the sight of him.
And Jason Knight, the king of the school, just sat there, stone-faced, as if I didn’t even exist. It was bizarre, this group of friends. Were they losing their minds or what?
Being , I didn’t pay them much attention. But apparently, that only seed to frustrate them more. If they thought I’d giggle and act all flustered because of their pitiful attempts at charm, they had the wrong girl. I definitely didn’t want their attention. In fact, I despised it. They were making break my second rule—stay invisible. Stupid jocks.
Their ridiculous behavior didn’t go unnoticed by the other students either. The girls, especially. I could feel their petty jealousy burning holes through . As if I wanted those idiots. I just wanted to blend into the background and go back to being the unremarkable waitress. But no, these guys just wouldn’t leave alone.
The last two days had been nerve-wracking, enough to make want to scream. First, Dylan had waited for at the door after my shift, opening it for like a gentleman, then offering to walk ho. As if I’d let him. Stupid, stupid.
Then ca Max, waiting for the next day. He had the audacity to ask to go to the movies with him, followed by an invite to his place, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as if I couldn’t figure out what he was hinting at. What did he take for? A prostitute? Idiot!
Today, I braced myself for yet another round of their futile attempts to win over. They ca in earlier than usual, which made think their practice must have ended early. Thanks, coach. Just what I needed. They weren’t even ordering anything—just sitting there, taking up space. My boss, ever the opportunist, told to ask them to leave if they weren’t going to order. As if he didn’t know them well enough to realize they could make life difficult. But I think he just enjoyed seeing busy. He probably thought running around gave so extra purpose. Typical.
So, I headed over to their table and asked, "Are you going to order anything?"
"I ca to see you, lovely," Max said with a wink.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes under my cap. Thankfully, it was pulled down far enough that they couldn’t see my expression.
"If you’re not ordering, my boss said you need to leave," I told them bluntly.
Dylan, who had been idly staring at the flower arrangent on the table, finally raised his eyes and said, "I’ll get a bottle of beer, please."
Oh, please. It felt weird for him to be so polite, especially considering how he used to be before Jason’s fiasco. Now, suddenly, he’s Mr. Manners?
And Jason—the grumpy one, as I always called him in my head—said, "I’m still contemplating."
Contemplating? He’d been "thinking" for half an hour now! As I went to get Dylan’s beer, Max ordered two more.
Great. Just great. This was going to be a long shift.
Serving them their drinks, I didn’t waste a second before turning on my heel and heading back to the counter. Of course, Max, in all his idiotic glory, had to shout after , "You wound my heart!"
Ugh, idiot.
I could already tell this shift was going to be worse than I thought. All the girls in the diner were shooting daggers at with their eyes, probably wishing they were in my place. For fuck’s sake, they could take Max and stuff him in their designer handbags for all I cared.
The sharpest glare, of course, ca from Amber Prescott. Apparently, cheerleading practice had ended early, and for once, she wasn’t off shopping or doing whatever it is spoiled brats do. Of course, she had to make her grand entrance, seating herself not far from where Jason and his crew were lounging, like they owned the place.
Then, she pulled out sothing that made my blood boil—a bell. A literal, tiny, servant bell. She rang it, loud and clear, her lips curling into that smug smile of hers. Was she for real? Who even carries a damn bell in this day and age?
I sat at the counter, pretending nothing was happening, hoping she’d get bored or, better yet, drop dead. But of course, the bitch wouldn’t let it go. Her high-pitched voice pierced through the buzz of the crowd like nails on a chalkboard.
"Waitress!" she called, ringing that stupid bell. "Waitress!" *Ring, ring*.
I clenched my jaw, feeling the familiar knot of annoyance tighten in my chest. If I didn’t go over there, my boss would co out, and the last thing I needed was another lecture about "custor service."
With a forced, neutral expression, I stood up and made my way toward her, taking my sweet ti. Inside, I was ready to murder her on sight.
Amber looked up at with those ice-blue eyes, a smile that was anything but friendly curling on her lips. She rang the bell once more, for good asure, just as I reached her table.
"Yes?" I asked, barely containing my disdain. "What can I do for you?"
Her fake, sugary tone dripped like venom. "Oh, you know, just a little service would be lovely. Or is that too much to ask? I an, I didn’t co to this diner for nothing." She rang the bell again.
I stared at the bell for a second, imagining how satisfying it would be to shove it down her throat, but I kept my cool.
"What would you like to order, Amber?" I asked, keeping my voice as steady as possible.
"Oh, I’m not sure," she replied, drawing out each word like she had all the ti in the world. "Maybe a cappuccino. No, wait. A latte. Actually... why don’t you bring both, and I’ll decide later."
She smiled up at , knowing full well what she was doing. It wasn’t about the drinks. It was about showing off, making sure everyone in the diner knew she could treat like her personal servant.
"Right," I said, nodding, "both drinks it is. Anything else? Perhaps a side of dignity?"
She blinked at , not catching the sarcasm, and I turned on my heel before she could say anything more.
I could feel her eyes on as I walked back to the counter, the whole diner buzzing with silent judgnt. The queen bee had stung, and everyone was watching to see if I’d flinch.
Not today, Amber. Not today.
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