The DEN.
Tori had warned her about them, especially the one with white hair. Ivory skin and red lips, body like heaven. Then the moment their eyes locked, she understood that Countess knew some junks about her that wasn't what the school were carrying. She grasped more that than and it would have been better if it was only her. But the boy in black leather jacket and a gum between his teeth also knew something.
She didn't know what they knew.
The moment he stopped at the counter with his arms rested on the top, her brain refused to correspond with her, however her feet seemed to still have control as she marched to the counter. His aura was intoxicating.
"Welcome to..." She bit her lower lips as her eyes search for the menu. Luckily, she saw the beige color card under the worktop. "Finer diner- What would you like to have, sir?" She trailed after Countess as she ignored the two of them and went to sit in one of the booths.
"You."
"What?" diverting her attention back to him, probably she didn't heard him right plus the seriousness on his face told a different story.
"Yogurt." He smiled.
"Oh, Yogurt- Wait a minute." She picked the menu card and read through it.
He stared at her, lingering his narrow eyes on her like she was a special meal. Gracie pretended not to notice that as she scanned the card down.
"So you started the assignment already without me? You don't even know my last name." he expressed.
"You aren't my partner. There is no yogurt on the list." She told him and slide over the menu to him.
Without a glance at it, he pointed one of his long fingers at the paper. "Of course, I am. You ain't gonna work alone."
Gracie gazed over to his finger. The thought of how perfect it was crossed her mind and how the remaining ones folded behind. She skipped the hand to the book, he was pointing to the ice cream section.
Ignoring him, "You can have your seat, sir. I'll gladly do your ice cream delivery." She flashed him a fake smile.
"Funny how ill you treat people who could have watch your bone get crushed," As if Mrs. Adam was listening to their whispering conversation. A crushing sound of something being chopped angrily erupted.
Those words got to her and she felt guilt in her chest. He could have left her to die but he didn't and now all she was doing was creating a distant between them.
She licked her lips, then whispered "I said thank you that night."
His full brows creased as if he was trying to figure out something and yet maintain a simple face, "Some Cinderella you are."
"I'm no Cinderella." she argued.
"When are we starting our assignment? where should we meet? Do you think this place is advisable? Most people from school visit here daily." He boomeranged her with questions as he dropped the appropriate cash.
"There is no way I want to be with you." she declared and cleared the table, she put the money inside the drawer she hoped was for cash.
"I'm not asking you out, Grace." he chuckled and she gasped.
It was okay that she hadn't gotten the ice cream, else she did have a bill to pay after she threw it on his gorgeous face.
"Listen, I never said y...you were... and don't call me Grace. it's Gracie." she tried to conceal the shock that took over her.
"Tell me," he moved forward, close to her till his cold breathe fanned her face and she almost believe it was the AC.
And hummed in her right ear, "Did your face just turn red?"
Another gasp escaped from her mouth as she whizzed back. Miserably, her face got redder like a tomato. Just at that moment, the sound of the door sliding got their attention, a short guy with red mohawk entered with a red helmet. He was dressed in the restaurant's label.
He mugged in puzzlement.
"I'll just get your order ready." She spoke way too quick.
Unknown to her that the short boy was already inside. The next she knew what her forehead aching, realization hit her. Both of them had knocked each other's head
"I'm sorry." They apologized synchronously while she stroked her forehead.
"It's okay." The boy smiled, he did look their age peer but he definitely was not attending Mary Hills High. Possibly, the community high school.
She didn't bother to ask who he was, hence he was wearing a uniform and Mrs. Adam appeared to know him as he went to the kitchen and had a chitchat with her.
Gracie turned back to see him, sitting in the booth already. He was enmeshed in discussion with the Platinum girl or rather an argument because, the girl twirled her head and looked at her. When their eyes locked, Gracie quickly got herself the menu and headed to the freezer.
The last thing she wanted, getting involved with the DEN. There was a reason why she must avoid them and now she didn't even care about finding out why, preferably she would willingly stay far.
She opened the lid and scooped two spoon of the vanilla ice cream in each of the transparent cup she held. In hesitation, she lagged out of her zone to meet them at the end booth where a guitar designed wallpaper with sky blue background rest behind her mysterious lifeguard.
Presumably, they sensed her coming with the tray of their order, their mouth sealed up. Countess put on an act by adjusting her black leather jacket as a diversion. She beamed at Gracie, "Hi." she greeted.
"Hey." Gracie returned with a low vibe.
She trolled back to her duty post and huffed.
"It really creepy how distinct their food menu works."
Gracie jumped at the unexpected company. When she caught her breath, she glared at the boy beside her whose attention was entrapped in their two customers.
"Who eats plain ice cream in this era." he added, sounding distant.
"What?" Gracie frowned.
Finally, he angled his head back to her. "I'm Patrick."
"Gracie."
"Yeah, you're the replacement." he filled in.
Gracie didn't say a thing after that. she played with her brittle nails, she struggled through-out the period of that four weeks which she lost communication with everyone to keep the fingernails long and pretty. However, every time she was astray in her cerebration, her fingers automatically went into her mouth and her teeth would grate them without mercy.
"Which school do you attend?" she asked, nervously.
He rotated to her again, "The Hillers high. They say the bad, wretch kids go there and the hot eyes go to Mary Hills high."
It was like his brown eyes searched hers for something. His face was straight, almost strict like he really don't wanna listen to trash. "Not everyone in Mary Hills are cool" She shrugged.
"Really... I don't think so, have you been to my school? It's no chill, always heated." He seemed to be complaining then he reeled back to the side where the mysterious ones sat.
"They're from your school, right?"
"What school?" she almost deny her school because of the duo.
He chuckled, "I know you attend Mary Hills high, Ronny kinda has this little crush- shit ain't supposed to let that out."
What? Ron had a crush on her?
The door swung open. Gracie rolled her eyes, forgetting the number of times the door had slide. A group of teenage girls entered, giggling, about seven girls. Gracie could bet they were not from her school. One of the girls turned red on seeing Pat.
"Hey, Patrick." She greeted in her high-pitched voice.
"Hey, Patricia." He replied with one side smile.
Gracie exchanged a shocked glance with Pat before taking the girls order and getting into real work as more customers rushed in. She was lucky to have Pat's assistance.
Later on the rush, Pat left on a delivery. He claimed that would be his last delivery for the day and Mrs. Adam told her not to take orders for anything that involved her using the stove.
Gracie became too busy to even notice the mysterious ones leaving and when she discovered their booth empty she went to get the dish only to see a white sheet of paper rolled as a straw beside the half melted cup of ice cream with some bucks.
Tips.
She picked the paper and was about to open it when Mrs. Adam screamed her name to come attend to customers.
Quickly she put it in the pocket of her dress and straightened her apron.
She carried the cups in tray with the tips and headed back.
Pat came back at a late hour,
"I'd hope to see you again, Gracie." He said his bye.
Just when Gracie turned to check the time on the wall clock that rest in the upper part of the door that separated the kitchen from the building, she saw Mrs. Adam fully dressed in mufti.
"I close 9pm daily, you can wait a bit for Ronny to come back or pick your bag and umbrella and head home now, while I lock the door." that was what Mrs. Adam told her.
She thought about the fact that Ron had not paid her and all together she did be getting three hundred bucks from him. That was huge.
But Mrs. Adam leaving her, with no customer coming in. Only her. That might be a risk of theft.
She could get her bucks from Ron in school rather than risk it all.
She nodded at the woman she found extremely strict and went for her luggage while Mrs. Adam went to change the neon sign on the glass door to the other way, 'closed'.
Then, she proceeded to lock the window one after the other.
While Gracie was gathering her things, she heard a sound. Scratching on the wall, it was echoing from the kitchen.
Stopping what she was doing, she walked into the kitchen and the noise pause. The kitchen was well tidy up, plate and all equipment arranged in the necessary places.
She heaved a sigh of relief and turned to leave, only for the scratching to continue.
Her heart bounced in suspense. Her brows furrowed, wondering where the thumping was coming from.
She followed her instinct and walked to the shabby looking door. A sudden bang on the door made her jolt back.
And she swore to hear a faint voice cry for help before Mrs. Adam again shouted her name.
"Girl! you've got a change of mind? 'cause I've got a six years old son waitin' for me at home!"
All of the sudden, the sound died off, sliming off like the thin din produced from dragged a chair on tiles and it was no more. Then she knew, something was definitely wrong.