She heard them giggling. The perfect popular girls were all huddled in the corner booth.
But, she couldn't afford to spend her afternoon hours sipping Cokes and sharing fries.
She watched as they talked and laughed, twirling their silky professionally styled tresses with their pampered manicured hands.
She didn't have the luxury that was their lives. She didn't live outside of town in one of the sprawling picture perfect homes. Or wear tailored clothing or shop for fancy dresses appropriate for formal dances and extravagant vacations.
She lived upstairs from her family's restaurant where she worked after school.
She was pretty; she knew that. She was a good student and had her own circle of friends. There wasn't a business on Main Street where she didn't know the kid behind the counter or in the stockroom.
But these girls, they had a way of making everyone else seem small and unimportant. She continued to service her customers and put those girls out of her mind.
She heard one of them mention his name. He was the first boy she had ever really liked. But he lived in their world and never noticed her.
They weren't mean girls. She never thought they were better just different. They lived in another world. The one where you got whatever you wanted without even trying.
She looked up from her work when she felt the rush of air as the front door opened and he walked in.
She knew it wasn't true but, it felt like time slowed and all the world was quiet. Even those girls in the corner, stopped talking.
Everyone knew everyone in this town but, no one had ever seen this guy before.
His hair was the color of warm embers highlighted by the rays of the afternoon sun. His head was turned in profile, and again, the sunlight painted the picture, the angle of his nose and pronounced cheek bones casting shadows of perfection.
Then, as he turned his head, there was an instant when the light touched his eyes. It appeared as a flash, like an explosion of color. A hint of green, jade then peridot, followed by a touch of honey brown, almost like an optical illusion.
And he was smiling. A broad expanse of white framed by lips that these young girls shouldn't be able to appreciate
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Dean slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and pushed the door open. He walked into the restaurant still laughing at his brother's bad joke. His free hand went immediately to loosen his tie as he shook his head, his laughter fading away but, not his smile.
Dean scanned the room as he walked towards the counter and took a seat. He continued to loosen his tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the neck.
He turned his head to check the time and saw the girl approach from his left. She offered coffee and he accepted with a nod of his head. He watched her turn and looked into the mirror directly across from him.
The corner booth was in his line of sight. He knew these girls, fortunate, privileged. High school, too young to know what the world was really like but old enough to know they've got it easy. They never have and probably never would have to work a day in their lives, he thought to himself.
They giggled and whispered and he caught their quick glances at him. The waitress returned with a mug of hot coffee. Dean nodded a thank you. She left a menu and walked away.
He saw the girls in the corner watching. They huddled and did that whispering that girls do. Using their imaginations to create something out of nothing.
Dean could imagine the conversation. He drank his coffee and wondered what was keeping Sam. He noticed the girls would whisper and look at the young waitress. She seemed uncomfortable. He could sense they were talking about her.
She obviously wasn't as polished. The girls called her over. She took their glasses on her tray and walked behind the counter. The soda tap was right in front of Dean.
Through the mirror, he could see the girls were watching even as they turned away whenever he caught their eyes. Just as obviously, the waitress avoided looking directly at him. She filled the glasses then returned to their table.
These girls were so transparent, he thought. Dean didn't like bullying even as innocent and playful as this. Those girls were teasing this waitress.
Just then, Dean felt his phone vibrate. He fished it out , read the text and reached into his pocket to pay for his coffee.
He signaled the waitress over. In the mirror, he could see he had the girls' attention. They almost appeared to be holding their breath. They were waiting.
Dean asked the waitress her name. She hesitated, surprised maybe, then she told him. Dean could feel the energy building in the audience. He introduced himself. Then he slid a bill across the counter and she picked it up.
Dean answered Sam's text and stood up from his seat. Again, the girls were watching.
The waitress held out Dean's change. His instinct was to wave his hand indicating she should keep it. But, that wouldn't be enough, not today.
He reached out and held her hand, lightly, between his two. He said, "For you, thank you." And then he smiled.
He swore he heard a gasp from the corner booth.