Food Queen (Completed)

Chapter 3

A twisted spoon lies on the floor under the table. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore but instead my littletoe does after I slammed it on my bedside table last night.

Voices are to be heard from everywhere. I can't imagine how anybody can possibly tolerate to work here all day. Trapped inside this square of voices from total strangers. It's all too noicy and full of people talking loudly about their boring lives as if they actually were interresting. Plates clinging, forks echoing with shrieks against it.

It sends shivers down my spine of just being around. My heart beating faster and if it weren't for the food I would have rushed out the doors before people didn't even spot my presence.
The big logo of the feathery red and black Nando's rooster is hanging on the wall. My best friend Kylie sitting in front of me.

"It didn't work." I say with a groan.

She tips her head a little, listening to me more closely.

"I am still thinking about last night."

She sighs.

"You're too impatient."

Her norweigan accent makes it sound like she's singing the words. She picks up the fork beside her plate and make it dangle between her gorgeous painted nails. Golden as usuall. Her colour.

"Just give it some time. How long has it been since it happened, six hours? You're definatley too hasty in this."

I hestitate. Feeling a tense play in my shoulders.

"But it's not just the embarrasing part."

Even though I complain like I've still got some of my faded attitude left, I feel small and defensless. Like slowly falling through a widening black hole swallowing me whole, closing it's claws around me. I place a strain of hair behind my ear, slipped out from my pony tail.

"I keep losing the battle of getting him out of my head."

Kylie raises an alluring orbbrow.

"And?"

"For your information I have a boyfriend. I am not supposed to look at other guys!"

"Is there really a difference?"

She wags her head sarcastically from side to side then stares at me for a moment.

"Everyone cheats Rose, it's just nature. I cheat, they cheat, he cheats, Clarisse cheats, even our teachers cheats. It's just you and your good ol' boyfriend that insist to be good enough. It's how love and nature works."

She splits her fingers into an innocent gesture. Showing how vulnerable love can be.

"Really?" I ask, not quite believing her.

"Totally. Why would there otherwise be such things as divorces?"

Point taken.

"But isn't that rude?"

Kylie roles her stormy gray orbs high but before she gets the opportunity to say something I rise from my chair.

"Oh we need to go now, or we'll be late for school."

In fact the reason isn't fully to be on time at school. I would gladly miss out a few hours if I could.
The reason is to avoid the blonde boy, right now standing just behind the counter. His irish nose sunken into a grilled cheese sandwich.

Suddenly the irish blonde looks up, meeting my purple orbs. From his place behind the deskpoint he looks surperior. Surperior and extremely irish, and it doesn't end there. He casts a sudden glance over his shoulder. Slipping out from behind the counter very irishly. Aiming his steps towards our table.

My head starts spinning, blood pumping through my bitten fingertips, and before I know about it he is already there.
I don't know where to take off. I don't want to meet him. Not since yesterday. Not because I have a boyfriend. He doesn't seem to like me and yet he is so utterly hot! Deep within a tiny voice whispers from inside. Coming for me, hunting me down.

Are you surprised? After all you left without paying the bill last night.

Oh dear Lord please help me, I don't know if I own those powers needed to resist.

I desperatly force Kylie to follow my lead but she is too slow, and I get an accurate feeling she is doing it on purpose. Within a minute the irish blonde has irishly arrived to our table. Folding his hands on the surface. All my hateful thoughts gathering together as one, thinking the most awful words I can come up with under a limit of five seconds.

Shit. Crap. Barbecued snailorbs.

Fancy as an irishman he gently puts his arms in a cross over his chest with that cute little writing pad where the waitors keep their orders. Then turning to me. Suddenly very firm and very irish.

"I believe you didn't pay last night." he says popping the p with a voice not tolerating any arguments.

Unlucky for me I am not the one quick enough to understand a warning, and this is not the gorgeous time when I wake up.

"I believe you are wrong. I did pay."

"Then why are we missing out of cash?"

"It could be from anybody. Go ask your friends in the kitchen."

I point at the swinging metallic doors. A man in white disappearing inside.

"Not going to happen."

"Then I am not going to pay." I shoot back, mimicing his irish accent.

His face twists into dislike, making a very ugly face. Almost tears in his crystal blue orbs.

"You have to. It is your duty as a british citizen."

"Lucky I am not british." I say while pinching Kylie's left arm to keep her quiet.

He watches me closely behind his thick orblashes. Blinking away every sign of teardrops he'd possibly had. Something's telling me he doesn't take my lie very seriously.
I sigh. Taking unbelievily deep breaths. It's air shivering inside my lungs. Ready to swallow my pride and jump off the cliff.

"It's embarrasing and complicated and you nor someone should know. I have paid. The rest of the fourteen yogurts was a misunderstanding!"

I feel proud of my long sentence, my long defence. He can't say no to a misunderstanding, can't he?

"Fifthteen yogurts is pretty much though..."

He drops his orbbrows into a scepticall position. Siding me an irish look.

"Misunderstanding." I repeat, pronouncing every syllable with extra care.

Then without a single word I spin around on my heels. Forcing Kylie to leave the restaurant with me, trotting after like a beslaved donkey, never leaving my side. If I don't comeback, he will never see me once more, which means he will never have the chance to press on me again. More hopefully, he won't even remember me.

But that means I have to give up Britain's only restaurant and the delightful opportunity for one extra frozen yogurt after a hot spicy meal. After one of those crispy delightful hamburgers.

I don't know if I can do that. Not even in the great deal to get rid of him and the painful memories that comes by.
I can't tell how depressed that feeling makes me feel.