Page 11 of Getting Over You

“I hate to interrupt,” Rory says, “but we’re out of fives and the couple at seven want me to make change for a twenty.”

Belinda wipes her mouth on a napkin and quickly stands to her feet, all business. “I got it,” she says. “Be back quick.”

Watching Belinda walk away, Rory turns her attention to me and slides into the booth opposite me. “You can’t even drink Coke?” she says. “God, I knew Belinda was a bitch, but to her own kid? And you know, I know you’re in college. So, I know that you’re old enough to tell her to screw herself without any repercussions.”

“That will make things hard,” I say. “It’s easier to just let her go.”

“It’s not,” Rory says. “My dad chose drugs over me a long time ago. Telling him to get bent was the best thing I ever did.”

“Does he still try to be a dad?” I ask. “Even though he’s not even close to being one?” Quickly, I add, “No offense.”

Rory smiles lightly. “He’s dead.”

My jaw unlocks, my lips falling open. “Oh, Rory, I’m so—”

“Don’t bother.” She waves a hand at me. “Parents suck. I know it, you obviously know it. At least my dad wasabsentabsent—not whatever Belinda is doing to you.”

“She wants me to make friends,” I say.

“I don’t know if I’m the best place to start,” Rory admits. “You know, she calls me and every other girl who works here her daughters? Well, work daughters. But daughters. And, like, she is at least a little nicer to us than to you.”

“That’s not a surprise,” I tell Rory.

“You want me to switch that Diet Coke for the Coke you ordered while she’s occupied?”

I smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Rory stands, wiping her hands on her black apron before retrieving my glass. “I’ll get you food once I clock out. I can’t stand the thought of you starving all night because of her.”

“Here,” Rory says nearly thirty minutes later, handing me a greasy paper bag. “Eat.”

We’re outside of the diner, having just closed. The streets are empty, save from people leaving The Diner after a late dinner, still lingering. The moon is bright above our heads, like I’m being promised a decent evening after all. Belinda said she was interested in seeing the nightlife at the beach, and when I expressed that I was less than pleased about doing that, Rory swooped in and offered to take me out instead.

Belindalovedthat. She did say I needed friends. Who am I to disagree?

I don’t hesitate to dive into the grease monstrosity Rory offers, and my stomach flips with vigor at the thought of finally being able to eat.

“So, she really just wants you malnourished and miserable,” Rory says. “What a wicked woman.”

“Wicked mother,” I agree through a mouthful. “Like Cinderella, but backwards.”

Rory laughs. “Eat quick. Beach Brew closes thirty minutes after we do, and I always get coffee after a shift.” She points to the coffee shop across the street, its neon coffee cup sign shining bright blue in the dark.

“My food could have waited,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “No, it couldn’t have. You need something to absorb the caffeine, you know.”

“Rory is also conveniently not telling you that she goes to Beach Brew after work because she likes EJ Deans,” a coworker says as she walks out the front door. It was frantic in the diner; I didn’t realize there was a waitress other than Rory. “Or should I say, Mr. Bulky, beefy, and bearded?”

Rory gives the blonde a playful shove and flashes a middle finger.

“Notice how she didn’t deny it!” her friend exclaims. “I’ve been telling you for weeks he likes you, too.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Rory sighs. “He likes… Well, I guess I don’t know exactly. But it’s not me.”

“It’s her,” the girl tells me in a whisper. “It’s so her.”

I finish my burger and discard the wrapper and bag it came in as Rory and her friend continue to debate over the guy she likes. After a moment, it’s like they remember I’m still involved in the conversation. Suddenly startled, Rory says, “I don’t have time for this. I need coffee.”

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