Page 1 of The Sidekick

Chapter One

Tera

Every time someone wearing scrubs walks past the tiny room, my body tenses up with a mixture of dread and anticipation. As soon as they pass, my hands begin to fidget with the hem of my apron again, and I return to studying the room around me.

The hospital waiting room is always empty in the movies except for the main character and her love interest. Maybe a few random family members or close friends. The drama would be loud, and security guards would have to be called to escort the one money-grubbing cousin who got written out of the will away.

Me? I’m surrounded by people, some crying, others as tense as I am, and some numb with shock. And it’s all hushed like no one wants to burden anyone with their grief. The only thing separating me from them is that I have no one here to cry with.

I fidget in my seat as the need to pee gets more urgent. How can I worry about meaningless crap when my friend is fighting for his life somewhere in this hospital. If I leave the room, I'm afraid someone will come in with news, so I grit my teeth and risk it as I think about how I got here.

We were starting the process of closing the bar down a few hours early because it had been so slow. Some servers had already left to be with their families or significant others, leaving the single ladies to close up shop. We hadn’t seen a customer for hours before that except Joe. My old faithful.

We all know that it’s just a matter of time before the bar will have to close for good. I’ve been praying for a miracle for the last three months. That’s when it hit me how slow we had gotten and how many waitresses left and didn’t get replaced.

I made Joe wait at his table for me so I could give him a lift home, a regular occurrence. His car has spent more time in the bar’s parking lot than I like to think about.

We usually turned my music up loud and rolled down the windows of my beat-up Camry, singing the whole way to his place. I’d watch him dance his way down the sidewalk into his house and wave before heading home myself.

Not tonight.

I wish it were a night that I had enough tips to call a ride for him. Things would have been very different. He would have chewed the poor driver out because his abrasive personality is not for the faint of heart. He would call and give me an instant replay of the encounter as I counted down a till. I would give anything to have that dream replace reality.

Some guys came in before we locked the doors, faces covered with black masks sporting white-toothed smiles and demanded money from everyone.

I was the first to lay out my measly tips and hold my hands up, trying to calm my racing heart. They would leave if they got what they wanted with no trouble.

Joe was next, standing to block their view of me as he set his wallet on the table next to my cash.

Sal, one of the waitresses, was at one of the registers, gaping in shock. One of the men started advancing on her, and guns were raised on us all.

Max and Trevor, the busboy and the boss man, came out from the back office, alerted by all the yelling as Sal started sobbing, her voice breaking as she begged them not to kill her.

They began to leave once they had everyone’s wallets and the cash from the registers. It was supposed to be over at that point. Money is not worth the cost of my or anyone else’s life. I don’t care if that makes me a coward. I am not main character material, and I know it. I was waiting for them to get out before I called the cops.

But Joe started yelling at them. I begged him to be quiet and just let them leave. I had just stepped to the side to grab his arm and stop him from moving forward when one of them started shooting, and the rest quickly followed suit. I watched them gun the older man down from not a foot away, clutching his arm like it would be enough to keep him upright.

It was a miracle I hadn’t been shot, too. I was the only one standing in the middle of the room with only tables and chairs to hide me. Everyone else had wisely ducked and covered.

The bar was a chaotic mess around me as Sal screamed and Trevor shouted my name in the most broken sound, all while I dropped to my knees and tried to stop the blood from pouring out of Joe. There were so many holes, though; the stain kept spreading under him as I sobbed.

I don’t remember much after that. Just pressing down as hard as I could in all the places I could see and quietly crying.

When the ambulance showed up, I begged to be taken with him. He had no family, and I knew most of his information by heart. I used to card him for fun when we first met. It gave him an ego boost.

I was the best person to go because Trevor had to stay behind and answer a lot of questions. Sal was in no shape to ride with him, hysterically clinging to Max like a barnacle. She even tried to get me to stay because Joe is just a customer to her. He’s more than that to me, though.

According to the slow-as-molasses clock at the front of the room, it’s just after eight o’clock in the morning. He’s been in surgery for over five hours already. I haven’t moved from my seat as people come and go, not even to get the coffee some of them complain about.

My phone vibrates in my apron pocket, and I pull it out in a daze. The no cell phones sign seems like it’s glaring at me, making my shoulders curl with guilt. What if this one call is what shuts down some life-saving machine?

ANDREA MATTHIAS flashes across the screen, and I send it to voicemail immediately and turn it off. She’s been calling nonstop for the last twenty-four hours.

Something must be wrong. That’s the only reason she would try to contact me at this point.

I’ve been forcing myself not to answer as a matter of hurt pride. As the calls continued, I kept the phone on silent so I wouldn’t hear it. Then, like a masochist, I put the stupid thing in my apron to feel the vibrations every time it rang. The jittery feeling of her possibly needing me warred with the angry glee of not answering. I’m becoming a bitter biscuit, and I’m not comfortable with it.

A part of me, the sidekick part, wants to get up and walk out of this cramped space and answer. To find out what’s going on with her. To help her as best I can and push my problems to the far recesses of my mind just like I used to.