Two months passed since the encounter, and although he was left with barely any money at the end of paying all the bills, Ritch was managing quite well for an eighteen year old who had to live alone. Most of his time was spent in the restaurant, as he chose to help out in the diner as much as he could.
There came one night when they were about to close and Boe got inside with his head down, mumbling something to Stu. The old man looked kind of angry, but only tapped on the shoulder of the waiter, who walked away.
"What's up, Stu?" Ritchie asked the boss.
"Van's motor is busted. Poor old thing barely couldn't make it back," he replied, walking over to the telephone, "I'm gonna call some people who won't get their orders tonight."
"Hey, I'll take the orders with the chevy, no prob'," the boy replied.
Stu thanked the boy, who gladly went on for a night's drive. The town was calm and there were no orders in dangerous neighborhoods. Ritchie tapped on the steering wheel to the rhythm of rock music from the stereo. After two deliveries there was only one other order, a particularly big one of Double Stud Combos. He arrived at the address, a nice house in a neighborhood much more welcoming than the one he lived in. It was a big house, with a very well-kept garden and a porch, a typical old-parents-home look.
He pressed the doorbell and heard a faint "'bout fucking time" coming from inside, which made him roll his eyes, expecting an angry costumer. The one who opened the door, however, was a tall girl with black hair. She was wearing an oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, it barely hid her braless big breasts, and it stopped at her plump thighs. He recognized her right away. Even though she had definitely put on weight, it was the girl from the concert, and the parking lot. She looked more like her concert-self, because her hair was short and black, her lips were pierced, and her nails were painted black.
"They got you on delivery-duty today, huh, chevy boy?" she asked, smiling.
Looking at her nose ring he noticed that her pale face was rounder. The weight piled on the right places, it looked like, although her strong arms looked softer and as she grabbed the money he noticed there were love handles beneath that baggy t-shirt. He was almost speechless, because somehow it all made her even more appealing to him.
"You live here?"
"Temporarily, I hope. My parents do, but they're away for a couple weeks."
"Are you having friends over?" he asked, awkwardly.
"No..." she answered confusedly.
He did not say anything, but he asked because hers was such a big order.
"Why? Would you like to keep me company?" she asked suddenly.
He froze.
"I... huh..." he looked back and forth.
"Quick, kid, my dinner's getting cold."
To his amazement, after a moment, he was inside her house. It looked exactly like he imagined it would, the typical suburban family home, but in front of the TV there was a coffee table with some beer bottles already empty.
"I'd offer you beer but I could go to jail for doing that."
"Ha-ha," he laughed sarcastically, trying not to show that he'd actually found charming how she had said it.
"Help yourself..."
"Ritchie."
"Like Blackmore."
"Yup," he smiled, "and you are?"
"Chrissie," she said, opening the bag with her burgers, "nice to meet you, again."
"I knew it was you that day at the concert, even though you looked different that day in the parking lot."
"Guilty," she said, her mouth full, as she picked the big burger with both hands, "I was wearing a wig at the concert, though, and now I've dyed my hair black, but it was me, sure."
"Why'd you deny it, then?"
"Mum and dad don't like that I like Dio. They don't like anything that I like, I suppose. Just 'cause I'm not her perfect blondie anymore. What are your folks' opinions on our sweet music?"
"They're not around anymore, but it never bothered my dad when he was."
"Oh," she swallowed, "I'm sorry..."
He shrugged. They went silent for a moment.
"Oh, shit, dude, do you want some?" she asked, pointing at the food.
"Nah, I'm good," he said, without letting out that he didn't quite like eating the food from the restaurant, even though he was the cook, "I'll take a beer if you have some."
She was quickly devouring her dinner, and he was drinking just as fast, and they talked and laughed about music, finding that they had a lot in common when it came to favorite bands. After a while, he noticed that her cheeks were very red, and just when she swallowed the last of the french fries, she let out:
BUUUUURP!