I didn't even know why I asked Gina to drop me off at the diner, when I knew for a fact that Jonah Gibbs was going to be there. Maybe I was just too obsessed with him, despite my current dislike I was feeling toward him right now.
I really did feel touched that he cared if I was falling asleep in our killer teacher's class, but I really didn't appreciate the stinging pain in my foot that he'd left me with. Also, he just put another cherry on top of one of my worst days ever, and what had happened today with the whole footsie-gone-wrong fiasco hadn't helped my mood become better in any way.
"You sure you don't wanna go straight home?" Gina asked, trying to persuade me. "I mean, you've been having a bad day. Wouldn't a hot bath sound nice? A Ryan Gosling marathon? Or just maybe... sleep? You really look like you need sleep. Please go home and sleep."
She was just saying that because she didn't want to find out that Rochelle's diner, owned by the Taylors family, had been burned down, in the news tomorrow morning. "I'll be fine. I'll hang out with Nat. Maybe she'll lift up my mood."
She made a face, clearly disappointed that I had chosen not to take the rest I needed. "Or maybe you should just stay in your dad's office and catch some rest there?"
"Maybe," I shrugged, unbuckling my seatbelt now that the car had slowed down in front of the diner. "Bye."
"See ya, Hannah," Gina muttered with a sigh. "Please don't do anything stupid."
I rolled my eyes and waved, turning around and making my way through the front door.
I immediately went straight to Nat, not bothering to see if Jonah had noticed my presence. "Hey, is Wayne here yet?"
"He just arrived like five mins ago. Why?"
"Oh, good. Tell him to make me a sandwich. Wait, make it two. I need some Wayne sandwich in my stomach."
She snorted. "Bad day?"
"More like bad lifetime," I corrected dramatically. She rolled her eyes at me and then yelled through the small window that went through the kitchen.
"Futton, ya there?"
"Sup?" Wayne yelled back.
"The princess wants her sandwich. Make it two."
"Ooo, bad day?" Wayne asked, his head poking out through the kitchen. "You always order two of those when you're angry."
"Why does it have to be a bad day if I want to order two sandwiches? What if I was having a date and that's why I ordered two?" I asked, irritated, but both of them snorted as if me going on a date was the most ridiculousestestest thing ever.
"The day you go on a date is the day this girl decides to become a nun," Wayne said, only to wince once Nat slapped him in the face. "Two sandwiches comin' up."
"Make it quick, please! I'm hungry!" I called out.
"Ya want some drink? Or do you want to order some coffee from that hot piece of ass?" Nat asked, wiggling her eyebrows at me. My face warmed but I glared at her.
"Just gimme a bottle of water."
She turned around and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and threw it to me. I caught it and muttered "thanks", before plopping down into one of the empty booths near the side window.
My eyes roamed around and found Jonah who was making a drink for a lady, his face scrunched a little bit when a splash of hot water touched his skin. He gave the lady a quick smile once he was finished, and then before he turned his head toward my general direction, I looked down to my bag, pretending to take out a book.
Before I could take it, though, my phone vibrated in my pocket, so I took it out. There was a new message from Spencer, asking about the story we'd been working on. It was actually already finishedâI had completed a messy draft of the story on a paper.
He then offered to type it so I wouldn't have to rewrite the whole thing, and I told him that it sounded like a good idea.
Just bring the papers tmrw so I can take it home?
Well I'm at the diner rn, probably will be here for a long time. I'll just give it to you before you start your shift.
Oh, you have the papers with you? I'll be there in a few mins then.
What? You don't have to! Your shift doesn't even start in a few hrs. I can wait til then.
Alrdy on my way ;)
I shook my head and smiled a little bit, and then put down my phone. I took the papers out, quickly read through the story in case something needed to be fixed, and then put it down just as Janice, one of the waitresses, came over with my sandwiches.
"Here ya go," she said, winking. "That frown doesn't look good on you, honey."
I gave her a smile. "Thank you, and sorry, I was just having a weird day. Oh, and can you tell Wayne to make another plate of these?"
Her eyebrows rose, and she said in an amused tone, "These not enough, hm?"
"No, no," I chuckled. "I'm meeting a friend. I'd feel weird if I eat alone in front of him."
A smile was spread wide on her face. "Ahhh, a friend," she murmured knowingly.
I rolled my eyes. "Janice..."
"Alright, alright," she said, putting two hands up in surrender. "I'll go get the sandwiches now."
"Thanks!" I called out to her as she walked away.
Spencer arrived about five minutes later, a smile on his face when he spotted me. "Hi."
"Hey," I told him as he sat down. "So, here's the story. Maybe you should read through it first in case you didn't approve of what I've written?"
He took the papers and began reading in silence, his head bobbing up and down in approval. His lips quirked into a smile when he read the funny parts, and then he set it down. "It sounds good to me. Way better than what I would've written."
"Thanks," I said gratefully, and then I looked up at Janice who had come back with another plate.
She recognized Spencer right away. "You're the new waiter, right?"
"I am," Spencer replied, grinning, before frowning when he saw the sandwich Janice put on the table. "Wait, I didn't order this."
"I did," I told him, and when he was about to protest, I cut him off. "My treat."
Janice left with a wink that I ignored, and Spencer sighed at me. "You're technically my boss. It's so weird."
"I'm not! I don't even work here," I laughed as I grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a bite, motioning for Spencer to do the same. My mood instantly lifted once Wayne's piece of art melted inside my mouth. His sandwich really was good.
Spencer seemed to be enjoying the meal too, as his eyes instantly closed and he groaned in delight. "This is amazing."
"I know," I replied.
"I understand now why people keep coming back to this diner," he commented, happily munching on his sandwich.
"Wait, you've never eaten here before?"
He shook his head. "My mom is all about homemade meal. We almost never go out for dinner. That's why I have a lot to learn, taking this job."
I grinned at him. "So, now that we're about to start a family," he choked as he tried to stifle a laugh, "maybe we should get to know each other better?"
"Yeah, wouldn't wanna marry a stranger, right?" he agreed, a grin on his face. "Well, what do you wanna know?"
"Hm, anything?" I asked back.
He smiled. "Well, we'll just start with the most cliché question. What's my favorite color? It's red. What's yours?"
"It's gray," I replied without a thought, and we both burst into laughter a few seconds later as we remembered a Fifty Shades joke we'd made last week. "No... no... it has nothing to do with that. Trust me."
He snickered. "Could've fooled me, Taylors."
I reached across the table to punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Shut up. Okay. Um, I'm really bad at getting-to-know thing, so, uh, favorite fruit?"
He burst into another laugh. "Really? Favorite fruit? That's gotta be the weirdest question anyone had ever asked me on a first date," he said, putting quotation marks on first date. But it's bananas. I really love bananas. Nope, don't give me that look. Bananas are good for your health, and it's so filling, and it's so sweet. And have you ever had banana smoothie? It's basically the most beautiful thing ever."
"Mine is apple, because, you know, apples. Definitely not bananas," I replied through the laugh I tried so hard to hold in. "Okay, your turn."
"Um. Alright. What's your hobby?"
"Well that's a tough question because there are a lot of things that I like to do. But does sleeping count as a hobby?"
Without realizing, minutesâeven hoursâhad passed, and now Spencer's shift was about to start in a few minutes. We'd talked about random things, from A to Z, talked about the project, and then went back to the random things again. I'd learned that Spencer had an elder sister by five years, and that he was the baby in the family. He also aspired to be a basketball player, and that his hidden talent was drawing caricatures. He'd promised to draw one of me one day, because he owed me one after the sandwich treat. I agreed excitedly.
"I'd better go," Spencer said, gesturing to the general direction of the staff's room. "It was really nice talking to you. I'll make sure to have this printed by tomorrow, or maybe the day after."
I smiled at him and we both stood up. He stuffed the papers into his backpack. "Don't strain yourself. We don't have to turn it in until Friday, anyway."
"Alright, if you say so." He sent me a grin. "See ya."
I waved and watched until Spencer disappeared into the staff room, and before I knew it, my eyes had fallen back onto the guy who was making coffee across the room. There was a short line as a few people had started to come in for dinner, and I decided to join in and get myself something to drink. No one else followed the line behind me, though, so I was the last one in the queue.
After a few minutes, I finally reached the counter, and Jonah asked without looking up, "What can I get you?"
"Hot caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream and cinnamon," I said, and his head snapped up at my familiar voice. His eyes burned holes, and he clearly looked like he was still angered by what had happened earlier at school. I gave him a tight smile. "For take away. Make it quick." I almost added please, but I just remembered that I was trying to annoy him, so I kept my words sharp and snappy. And maybe a bit snotty
He didn't return the smile, but he gave me a small nod and started making the drink. I, like the creep that I was, watched him just the way that I had last week when he was making me the latte. A smile threatened to break out on my face as I watched him work with concentration, but then I reminded myself that I was still supposed to be mad at him.
"One hot caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream and cinnamon," he recited, his voice slightly mimicking me as he slid the drink toward me, and I clicked my tongue in annoyance. "That'd be three dollars."
I glanced at the drink, and said just to spite him, "That's not enough whipped cream."
His eyes met mine, the gray in it swirling with anger and the blue cold with disdain, and he turned away to add the whipped cream. "There."
"Can I have more cinnamon?" I asked, my voice clearly intended to sound as grating to the ears as possible. My lips started to pull into a satisfied smirk when I saw that Jonah was gripping the counter tightly, his knuckles turning white. I was slowly cracking him, and I had to make sure to enjoy every single moment of it.
"Remember what I said last week about your annoying voice and hot coffee?" he said lowly, his voice menacing and his eyes blazing with fire. I stared back with the same amount of fire in my own eyes. He grabbed the drinkâmy  drinkâand held it up, as if he was trying to make his point.
Before I could open my mouth to spit back at him, a familiar voice called my name from across the room.
"Oh, honey, I didn't know you stopped by."
I turned around and my face instantly brightened as a grin replaced the glare on my face. "Daddy!"
Dad came over and I instantly threw myself into his arms, obviously startling the old man. The last time I called him that, and with that much sugar in my voice, I was probably five years old. He just chuckled. "Wow. What's with the hug?"
I wasn't usually overly affectionate toward my dad, and I understood why my sudden urge to embrace him was confusing him. "I just missed you," I said, pulling away.
"You just saw me this morning," he replied, chuckling good-naturedly, and then his eyes shifted toward the guy behind the counter. "Oh! I see you've met Jonah."
I turned around and faced Jonah, whose face had gone a little paler, the glare he had on his face melting into a look of surprise. I smirked. "Yeah, dad. He goes to my school."
"Oh? Well, I didn't know that," my dad replied, surprised. "Well, Jonah, your shift has ended about two minutes ago."
"Yes, Sir," Jonah replied, but he still stayed where he was standing.
Dad turned to me. "I'm going home in five. You coming with me?"
"Of course! I'll just wait in the car after getting my drink," I replied, tilting my head toward Jonah and the drink that was still in his hand.
He nodded and gave me the car keys, ruffling my hair a little bit before calling out to Jonah. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid."
I let silence settle between us after my dad left, and then I took steps forward, toward the still gaping boy. Oh, man. It felt so good to be the one who left him gaping like that.
"So, Jonah," I started, a little sneer in my voice, even though I wasn't being particularly venomous. "You see, what's your boss' name?"
His eyes lifted to me, but he was still in a daze. "Charlie Taylors."
"Mm-hm," I nodded slowly, as if I was speaking to a child. "And what is my name?"
He blinked, and then for the first time ever, I heard him sigh in defeat. "Hannah Taylors," he murmured.
I nodded again, an amused grin replacing my smirk. "See, unless you want me to have a little word or two with my dad regarding your... poor behavior toward your customer, I will have as much whipped cream and cinnamon as I want in my drink. Ya hear me?"
I didn't really mean thatâof course I didn't! But I kept the smirk on my face until he nodded stiffly, his fingers moving to get the cinnamon powder, but I stopped him.
"I don't need more cinnamon anymore," I said, flicking my hair carelessly. I grabbed the drink from his hand, careful not to spill it, and then put a five dollar bill on the counter before walking away with a little too much sass in my steps. "Keep the change!"