Page 14 of The Princess and the Nerd

Chapter8

Willow

I was having a wonderful day with Robbie, getting my hair done, until we came to work and saw that it was almost entirely dead. There were zero cars in the parking lot.

Even some of our staff has given up.

Now, Roberto and Destiny and I stand in the restaurant kitchen, staring at each other anxiously.

“Do you think we’ll get a single customer today?” Dez whispers.

“I have no idea,” Roberto says. “But I’m not cooking until we do.”

Destiny has been baking since the early morning, making artisanal sourdough bread with her fancy collection of extremely old bacterial cultures. The delicious scent fills the kitchen. It’s irresistible, and I literally want to eat it all. I have few greater pleasures in life than sampling her masterpieces.

My best friend, despite looking like an incredibly gorgeous diva, is actually a serious brainiac on the inside. She's brilliant and talented. In so many ways.

People often didn't understand why we gravitated to each other so much, since childhood. We came from extremely different backgrounds. We looked totally different—beyond the obvious differences of skin color. We were always complete opposites.

She was short, I was tall.

She was loud, I was shy.

She was bold, and I was gripped with anxiety and apprehension.

She was beautiful, and I was plain, drab, the textbook definition of a basic bitch.

She was wild and carefree, messy and artistic. I was structured, scheduled, an overly-organized neat-freak that had everything color coded and labeled with sticky notes.

Things haven't changed much. Well, I now prefer a label maker to sticky notes. But we're still just as different as night and day.

We still look like a funny pair beside each other.

But our friendship is just deeper than that, somehow. It’s a soul-connection. Despite the fact that I was blessed to be born into a wealthy, upper class home, with siblings and parents to look up to and learn from—I've always felt a bit like an outsider, a bit out of place. A bit overwhelmed by all the big shoes I would have to fill, when I had rather tiny feet.

And all the big footprints left behind by those big shoes. It was overwhelming.

Destiny just cared to know who I actually was, beyond my last name. Not my so-called legacy.

While I was invisible to almost nearly everyone else on the planet, Destiny was the only one who actually sawme. And it felt really good, really special to be seen.

"Someone will come into the restaurant any minute now," Robbie says. "I didnotmarinate all that meat for days for no reason. I need to cook something. Plus, I have an amazing idea for a ceviche appetizer for the chef's special."

"I'll try some," Destiny says.

"No—it's not for you. You get microwaved mac and cheese because that's all I can afford after all the student loans I took out to study in France." Robbie sighs deeply. "Maybe that's why he dumped me. My student loan debt? Alejandhole was a few years older than me and much more financially stable. Maybe he just didn't want to wait for me to become a super successful celebrity chef... I guess he was right not to bet on me, because look at how I fucked this opportunity up for all of us. And you two are the people I care most about in this world, who have always been there for me."

"Shush," Destiny says, patting his hand. "You didn't mess anything up, Robster. This is just a moment, okay? It will pass."

"I hope so," he grumbles.

"Wait," Dez says as a car pulls up outside our kitchen window. "Customers?"

We all perk up, and I straighten my outfit before heading to the door to greet whoever it is.

When the doors open, I put on my best smile.

“Hello, and welcome toThe Willow—”

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