Thursday morning I'm standing in front of the bathroom mirror with a flat iron I don't fully know how to use. Nadia offered to help but she's still in bed wrapped around Kira like a vine, and waking her up before 9 AM is apparently a crime punishable by death so I'm on my own. I burn my ear twice and the left side is straighter than the right but I'm running out of time so it stays.
First real day of classes. Marketing 101. I find the lecture hall ten minutes early because being late on the first day is the kind of story that follows you, and I pick a seat in the middle — not too eager in the front, not too checked out in the back. The room fills up slowly. Laptops opening, coffee cups everywhere, a girl in the front row already highlighting a syllabus she printed in advance.
The professor walks in and skips introductions entirely. No ice breakers, no tell-me-something-interesting-about-yourself nonsense. She pulls up a slide, assigns a semester-long group project, and starts reading out pairs.
"Monroe, Bella. And… Price, Derek."
A voice to my right. "Guess that's us."
I turn. He's already looking at me. Brown skin, clean lineup, the kind of jaw that looks like someone drew it on purpose. He's leaned back in his chair with his pen between his fingers, spinning it slow.
He holds out his hand. "Derek."
"Bella."
His handshake lasts a beat longer than it needs to. He doesn't look away first. When the professor starts talking again he angles his notebook toward me and writes in the margin: *she's going to be one of those professors isn't she.* I press my lips together to keep from laughing and write back: *we're five minutes in. give her a chance.* He draws a tiny gravestone underneath with RIP OUR WEEKENDS on it.the laugh comes out louder than I planned and the girl in front of us turns around and I mouth sorry while Derek stares at his notebook like he had nothing to do with it.
After class he walks out with me. Not in a creepy way, just the natural drift of two people heading the same direction at the same time.
"So what's your plan for this project?" he says. "Because I need you to know upfront that I'm the ideas guy. Execution is somebody else's department."
"So you're going to think and I'm going to work."
"See, you get me already. This partnership is going to be beautiful."
He's easy to be around. That's the thing I notice first. No awkwardness, no trying too hard. He talks to me like we've met before, like this is a continuation of something instead of a beginning, and I don't mind it. He asks me what I'm doing later and I tell him I've got nothing until Saturday
"we should get a head start on the project" He says
"sure"
we exchange numbers and he waves over his shoulder as he splits off toward the science building and I watch him go for half a second longer than necessary before catching myself.
Nadia is eating cereal on her bed when I get back to the dorm and Kira is cross-legged on the floor painting her toenails a dark red that looks almost black.
"How was class?" Kira asks without looking up.
"Fine. Got a project partner."
"Cute?" Nadia says immediately.
"I didn't notice."
"You're a terrible liar, Bella." She points her spoon at me. "Your left eye twitches."
"My left eye does not twitch."
"It just did."
I spend the rest of the afternoon doing nothing productive. Ethan sends me a voice note complaining about his finance professor again and I listen to it while eating leftover wings from the fridge that Nadia labeled with her name. She'll survive.
By 4 PM I'm changing into black jeans and a plain shirt because Patricia said all black everything and no perfume because "customers should smell food not you." I tie my hair back, check myself once, and head out before Nadia can ask where I'm going because if I tell her I got a waitressing job she's going to have opinions about it and I'm not in the mood.
The restaurant is called Gino's which sounds Italian but the menu is mostly American with a few pasta dishes thrown in to justify the name. The manager is a short woman named Patricia who speaks in bullet points and hands me an apron and a notepad and tells me my section is tables nine through fourteen and if I mess up an order I'm paying for it out of my tips. I can't tell if she's joking.
Jay is the first person who talks to me like a human being in there. He's behind the counter doing something with the coffee machine when I walk past looking lost and he goes "new girl?" and I say "that obvious?" and he nods at my apron. I've tied it wrong. The strings are hanging in the front instead of the back and one of them is dragging on the floor. He doesn't fix it for me. Just tells me which way it goes and watches me retie it and says "better" and goes back to the machine.
The first hour is fine. Two tables. An older couple who call me sweetheart and a group of college girls who change their order three times and tip well anyway. I'm finding my rhythm, getting used to the weight of the tray, learning which hand to carry it with so my other hand can pull out the notepad. Patricia watches me from the register like a hawk but says nothing which I assume means I'm not failing.
Then a group walks in. Six of them. Four guys, two girls. Loud the way people are when they know they look good and want you to notice. They take table twelve — my section — and spread out like they own the booth.
I pick up menus. Walk over. I'm about to do my welcome line when I see his face and the words rearrange themselves somewhere between my brain and my mouth.
Owen Calloway.
I haven't seen him in over a year. The last time was at the Calloway house when I came to pick Ethan up and Owen was leaving through the front door with his keys in his hand and didn't acknowledge me beyond a glance that lasted less than a second. He's bigger now. Not just taller but wider, filled out, the kind of build that takes up space without trying. He's looking at his phone. The girl next to him has her arm looped through his and is talking to the girl across from her and everyone at this table is mid-conversation except him.
I put the menus down. "Hi, welcome to Gino's. I'm Bella, I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with drinks?"
He doesn't look up. One of his boys — with an easy smile — orders a round of sodas and asks for a few minutes on the food. I write it down. My handwriting looks like a different person's. I walk away and my legs feel stupid underneath me, not because I'm nervous , okay I am nervous.
Jay catches my face when I get behind the counter. "You good?"
"Fine."
"You sure? You look like you just saw your ex."
"I don't have an ex."
"Really?."
I load the drinks onto the tray. Six glasses. I've been carrying trays for two hours now and I've been fine every time. I walk back to table twelve " and I'm placing the fourth glass down when my elbow catches the edge of the fifth and it tips. I grab it before it falls but the movement jolts the tray and soda splashes across the table.
Owen looks up.
His eyes move over my face , but he doesn't seem to recognize me. He grabs a napkin off the table, wipes the splash near his arm, and goes back to his phone. The guy with the easy smile says "no worries" and I finish putting the drinks down and walk away.
My heart is in my throat for absolutely no reason because nothing happened. He looked at me and nothing registered and I wiped a table and walked away and that is the entire extent of what just passed between me and Owen Calloway.
The rest of the shift is a blur of orders and refills and my feet aching in shoes that aren't meant for standing this long. Owen's table closes out without anything else happening. He leaves first, the girl still attached to his arm, and he passes within three feet of me on the way out and doesn't glance over.
Jay finds me in the back counting my tips after close.
"First shift," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "Verdict?"
"My feet want to divorce my body."
"Sounds about right. Gets easier after the third week. Gets boring after the sixth. You'll be fine."
I pocket the cash , while removing my apron.
I walk to the bus stop in shoes I'm already planning to throw away. The campus shuttle takes twelve minutes. I spend all twelve staring out the window at nothing,my life was really boring.
The room is dark when I get in. Nadia and Kira are asleep. Actually asleep this time and not getting at it.I shower with the lights off, change, and climb into bed with my hair still wet on the pillow.
My phone buzzes.
DEREK:so about this project. you free monday?
BELLA:YEAH
I roll over and pull the blanket to my chin.