"You ungrateful bitch. I keep a roof over your head, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You could have killed her," I retort, trying to muster up confidence that I don't possess. "What if she goes to the cops, Dad? That bruise on her face is enough to...
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Above: Jessica Jermain and all of her popular glory.
The only downside about working at Gabby's is it's a local hotspot. People of all ages frequent the diner, including my classmates. Most of the teens are well-behaved, but there are a select few who like to stir up trouble.
As I brew a fresh pot of decaf, I hear Evan and his crew snickering at their usual table. For a moment, I fear they're mocking me. It wouldn't be the first time. A few weeks ago, Evan held his foot out to trip me as I was balancing a tray of hot beverages on each arm. I was able to dodge his attack, but the incident still made the dumb jocks dissolve into a fit of rowdy laughter.
I try to remind myself that this is the best it's ever going to get for Evan. After graduation, he won't have Starkton High School to fall back on. He'll be alone in the big, bad world, and he'll receive a harsh dose of reality. He won't be Mr. Popular or Mr. Football.
He'll just be a dick.
"Can I get you anything else?" I hear Haven say to the table of jocks. I can feel her irritation from across the room.
"Can I have another latte please?" Diego Hernandez replies. He's one of Evan's friends, but he's not as douchy. It seems like he's just trying to fit in, like he's trying to survive high school.
"One latte. Anything else?"
"Yeah, can you lose the 'tude?" Evan snaps. "We're customers. Show some respect."
"I just... I just asked what I could get for you," Haven stammers.
"Oh, now you're arguing with me?"
"I'm not—"
"Poor, fatherless Haven," Evan taunts her. "If only you had a dad to teach you manners."
Something in me snaps. I storm out from behind the counter and approach them. Haven is making an honest attempt to keep her composure, but she's wavering, her blue eyes glossy with tears, her cheeks red with embarrassment.
"What do you want?" Evan sneers at me like I'm a rat on the side of the road.
"For you to leave," I reply. "You're being belligerent. We have the right to refuse service."
"I'm sorry. We'll behave," Diego says, glaring at Evan.
"Uh, I'm not going anywhere," Evan rebuts. "I'm a paying cust—"
"I don't care. You're disturbing our other guests. Take your lunch to-go." I fold my arms over my chest and stare him down. He doesn't frighten me.
He stands up, making sure to knock over his half-finished cup of coffee. Luckily, the mug doesn't shatter, but the brown liquid spills onto the floor.
"Get out." I don't break eye contact. I can sense everyone else in the diner staring at us. "Don't make me call the cops."
Evan puts his hand on my shoulder and digs his fingertips into my skin. "You wouldn't dare, you little—"
