Page 22 of No Rules

He’s amused by my sulky expression, and I can’t seem to get mad at him. His pseudo-unhappy expression almost makes me smile. It gets to me.

He laughs softly and crosses his arms, “Or what?”

I snap my pen with a psychopath look on my face. “If you don’t stop, I’ll poke your eyes out.”

“So does that mean I won’t be able to look at those two little mandarins standing in front of me?”

Yeleen and the others hold back a laugh as I frown. What is he…? His gaze lingers on my breast until I understand.

My eyes glare at him as I retort, “Well, we understand each other, between fruits.”

“Between fruits?”

“My breasts, the mandarins. And I’m sure your balls look like two small plums.”

He suddenly stops laughing while the others laugh loudly. To lighten the mood, Yeleen asks, “How long have you been working here?”

“This is my first night, actually.”

“I worked here for a few months,” says the guy next to her. “The pay isn’t great, but Billy is cool, you’ll see. I’m Trey,” he introduces himself and puts his hand on Yeleen’s shoulder. I quickly realize that they are together.

“Iris,” I reply.

“Well, for a not-so-great paycheck, you might as well work somewhere else,” says Sarah, pursing her lips in disgust.

I turn to her and tilt my head to the side. “Why come here if you don’t like it here?” I hate her condescending tone, but I refrain from calling her names out loud. The first thing my mother taught me is that you shouldn’t judge a person by their appearance. My psychology classes confirmed this, but sometimes it’s hard.

Sarah looks at her friends as if they were the reason she came. I don’t linger any longer and take their order before adding in a voice that I hope sounds completely disinterested, “Will that be all…?”

“Uh, yes…four people, four drinks?” Yeleen answers me, lost.

“We aren’t expecting anyone else. No one is going to join us tonight,” TJ insists, holding back a small smile.

I shrug a shoulder, ignoring his far too scrutinizing look, and walk away from their table. I don’t let him tell me about their little party again. The other students have done it enough as it is. All day I’ve heard them talking about it, wondering if they’d dare go. Even at the fucking library where silence is the watchword.

A few minutes later, after their drinks are served, Buck gives me my first break.

“I’ll buy you a shot,” he says.

I’m sure my face is filled with horror and I try to hide my emotions quickly.

“I…no, thanks.”

“Come on, as a new employee, you get one drink when you’re on duty.”

“I don’t drink,” I reply, with a lump in my throat.

“You don’t like alcohol?” he teases, resting his elbows on the counter. “Let me remind you that you are a waitress in a bar. A drink is nothing.”

I stare at him silently. What’s that got to do with it? And what does he care, anyway?

A drink is not nothing. Because one drink leads to another. And then you’re in trouble and you’re making trouble. I know what I’m talking about. An unpleasant flash comes back to me, like an electroshock. A single image rises in my head, spinning in a loop.

I snap out of my lethargy, and an unpleasant shiver runs up my spine as I struggle to swallow my saliva.

“No, thank you,” I refuse a little more firmly before going to get the payment from the first group of students.

When I arrive at their table, the blond guy from earlier keeps on staring at me. Can’t he see that I’m not responding at all to his enamored fucking looks? As he hands me a twenty, I lean over and pinch it between my index finger and thumb. His other hand wraps around my wrist.

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