The band was well into its second song and Scott still hadn't shown up. Allison looked at Stiles and shrugged. If her ex couldn't be bothered to show up, she couldn't be bothered to care. He was the one who asked her to hang out. Being friends who used to have benefits was his idea, not hers.
"So, they're good, huh?" Stiles asked as the saxophone solo began.
Not answering, Allison closed her eyes and let the colours of the music punctuate the darkness beneath her eyelids. It really was good music. Fantastic, even. She loved jazz, and she loved that Beacon Hills had an underground jazz club. Really, it was quite the quite the mystery how she had never heard of it before.
"I'm gonna get something to eat, you want anything?" Allison asked Stiles as she opened her eyes and stared at the violin player onstage. Long, blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder.
"Sure," Stiles nodded as he leaned over and pulled out his wallet. "Can you get me an espresso macchiato?"
"I'll get it," Allison assured Stiles as she pushed away the five dollar bill he held out to her. "You paid the cover fee. It's the least I can do."
She walked away and retrieved her own wallet. As she waited at the counter to order, she tapped her foot in tune with the sad cello melody being played. Her phone began vibrating in her jacket pocket, and she pulled it out to see that it was Scott calling. Excusing herself from the barista who had come to take her order, Allison stepped back from the counter.
"This had better be good. You're twenty minutes late," Allison chastised before Scott could get a word out.
The first thing she heard on the other end of the call was a throat being cleared. "Yeah, about that, I can't make it. One of the RNs had to leave, so I got drafted into staying until they can call someone in. Sorry."
"I'll let Stiles know," Allison sighed. Legitimate excuses made it hard to be mad at him. "Any idea when you'll be off?"
"Not a clue. I'm definitely gonna miss the show, though. If they have CDs available, can you get me one that's signed? I'll pay you back," Scott requested.
"I'll see what I can do," Allison answered halfheartedly. Scott excused himself and hung up. Allison put her phone back in her coat and stepped back up to the counter where the barista waiting with his arms crossed. "I'm sorry about that..." she glanced at his nametag, "Derek. I didn't wanna be that customer who talks on the phone while making an order."
"Apology accepted," he smiled. "What can I get for you? Most folks here have a regular, but you and your friend are new."
"An espresso mocchiato for my friend, and I'll try the cafe breve." Allison pulled her debit card out of her wallet and flashed it at him. "You guys do take plastic, right?"
"We accept cash, debit, or credit," Derek told her as he wrote down her order and punched some numbers into his register. "Which are you paying with?"
"Debit," Allison clarified as she handed him her card. He slid it through a card reader and directed her to a keypad where she could enter her pin. "So, what's the name of the band playing?"
"They're a jazz trio, not a band," Derek corrected as Allison's receipt printed. "And they call themselves 'The Betas'. I have no idea why, before you asked."
Derek grabbed a pen on scratched something on the back of Allison's receipt before handing it to her. "If you'd give that to your friend, I'd appreciate it. Your order should be done in a couple of minutes."
"Thanks." Allison took the receipt and dropped a few ones into his tip jar. She returned to her seat, scanning the back of it as she sat down. Grinning, she looked at Stiles and showed him the digits. "Look at that."
"The barista gave you his phone number?" Stiles said as he took the receipt from her hand. "Did you forget that the reason you and Scott broke up is because you're gay?"
"First, he's not just a barista, he's a cute barista. And second, he didn't give me his number, he's giving you his number," Allison laughed as she shook her head and tried not to stare at the blonde violin player again.
Stiles straightened his back and looked over at the counter, where Derek was busy making their drinks. "Okay, he's not cute, he's hot. Also, I'm straight."
"Stiles, you are not straight. Or did you forget that time you dated that Tyler guy?"
"It was online dating, and I was curious," Stiles reminded Allison. "Do you not remember how it ended?"
"I remember you flying out to Virginia to spend a week with him and coming back complaining about how lousy he was in bed. You know, being bisexual is okay. You don't have to pick one or the other," Allison teased as she playfully pushed her friend. "Now go up there, get my coffee, and get yourself a date. It's fairly pathetic how you haven't been dating anyone but internet boy since Lydia dumped you."
"We were together for six months, Allison," Stiles sighed as he stood up.
"And it was two years ago. Now go," she ordered before turning her attention back to the music. Mostly, her attention was on the woman playing the violin. The other two members of the band, a blond white sax player and the black guy on the cello, they were pretty good, but the third member of their trio was definitely something special.
The song ended and the man on the cello announced that the band was taking a short interlude, and the ten or so patrons in the club offered applause. The two guys walked off stage and headed to the counter where Stiles was flirting with the barista, but the violin player took Stiles' vacated seat next to Allison.
"Erica Reyes," she offered as she sat her violin on the table. She held her hand out and Allison shook it.
"Allison Argent," the brunette girl smiled. "You're really quite good."
"I just do my best to keep up with Isaac and Boyd," Erica claimed humbly. "I noticed you watching me."
Allison could feel her face getting hot as she blushed. She also noticed that Erica was still holding her hand. "Yeah, well..." There were no words coming to her mind that would be any less awkward than silence. "Thanks?"
"I should be thanking you," Erica laughed as she leaned forward to rub the top of Allison's hand with her free one. "Most people that come to our shows are only in it for the cute boys, if any come at all."
"How do you know I'm not one of them?" Allison wondered as she looked into Erica's surprisingly expressive eyes.
"Because you're making a point of not staring at my boobs," Erica noted as she bit her bottom lip seductively. "Our gig ends at ten, if you wanna do something after. I mean, it looks like your date is kinda busy."
"Stiles? He's just a friend," Allison said as she turned around and saw him talking to Derek, completely ignoring her coffee. "And yeah, I think that would be fun."
"Groovy!" Erica exclaimed as she jumped in her seat. Allison finally found herself unable to look away from Erica's boobs. "Well, this talk has been great, but I kind of have to get back onstage, Allison Argent."
"You do that, Erica Reyes," Allison replied as Erica released her hand and picked up the violin.
The other two members of the trio joined Erica back on the stage. A couple minutes later, Stiles brought Allison her coffee. It was still warm, but it wasn't hot. She drank it anyway. "So?"
"So what?" Stiles scoffed as he sipped his espresso and crossed his legs.
"When is the date?" she pressed as she leaned into her chair and set her coffee on the table. Her eyes were focused on watching Erica's fingers dance on the violin's strings.
"What makes you think there's a date?" Stiles wondered aloud as he adamantly refused to look at Allison.
Smirking, Allison turned from Erica to her friend. "Well, you aren't claiming heterosexuality anymore, so there's that. What are you and the hot barista doing, and when are you doing it?"
"Where going to his sister Cora's gallery showing. I guess she's a photographer or something."
"Meeting the family on the first date? Well, this is moving fast. I imagine the wedding will be at the end of the month?" Stiles grinned at Allison's teasing and shook his head at her. "We so have to tell Scott about your new fiance!"
"You are such a dork."
"True," Allison agreed as she ran a hand through her hair. "But if I'm a dork, what does that make you, oh master of PC adventure games from the 90s?"
"A nerd with a date with a really hot guy, while you're single and jealous?" Stiles laughed.
Her eyes flicking back to Erica, Allison gave Stiles a simple smile. "Joke's on you, because I have a date tonight. With someone even hotter than your barista."
"When did this happen?" Stiles inquired as his attention focused solely on Allison. "Because, and I could be mistaken, but you didn't mention anything about a date when we first met here."
"About the same time you landed the barista," Allison answered as she looked at Erica again. Erica offered Allison a small smile, but she couldn't manage anything more.
"She is hot," Stiles claimed with a nod.
"I told you," Allison agreed as she crossed her arms in triumph.
"But mine is hotter," Stiles challenged.
"In your dreams."
TW
"So, what is there to do in Beacon Hills?" Erica asked Allison as they walked out of the club. They watched as Boyd and Isaac loaded everything into the back of a van across the street.
"Are you going to help us?" the black guy shouted at Erica as he picked up her violin.
"It looks like you have it under control, Boyd!" Erica shouted back as she wrapped herself around Allison's arm. "I'll meet you guys at the motel, okay?"
"You aren't local?" Allison asked as she and Erica started walking down the street. Stiles was still in the club, flirting with his new barista.
"We're not far, but we only ever come to Beacon Hills to play. And we normally don't stay in town, but our place is being fumigated because our landlord sucks," Erica explained as they waited at a crosswalk.
"So, is your band the only way you guys make money, or do you have day jobs?" Allison wondered as she tried to not pay too much attention to the fact that a hot blonde was literally hanging onto her. "I mean, you guys are great, but this is California, not New Orleans. Jazz isn't that big here."
"Boyd is a secretary at some law firm, Isaac works fast food, and I'm kind of between gigs, so to speak," Erica answered with a shrug. "I was working for this copy place, but folded a couple months ago and it's hard to find a job. Even in retail. What about you?"
Allison tilted her head and tapped her feet, waiting for the crosswalk light to turn white. "I used to work for my dad, family business and all, but then I came out and my mom made him fire me. Now I'm the janitor for the local public radio station. Pay is crap, but the benefits are decent."
"Ooh, lady janitor? Hot," Erica cooed as the light finally changed and they crossed the street. "Where are we going?"
"I don't really know," Allison admitted. "I was kinda hoping I'd have figured something out by now. What did you want to do? You wanna get something to eat? There's a 24 hour diner that's a few blocks in the other direction. The coffee is awful, but the food is great if you don't mind diabetes."
"Works for me. Everything I eat goes to my boobs, anyway," Erica bragged with a chuckle. "Does this place serve poultry? Because I'm a pescetarian and am craving some right now."
"They might?" Allison wasn't sure. "It's a little greasy spoon type place with an all day breakfast menu, so I just go whenever I want to pig out on pancakes or whatever. They offer turkey sausage as part of the 'healthy foods' menu, so it's possible."
As they turned around and headed in the direction of the diner, Allison's phone began ringing. It was Scott again. "Sorry, I've gotta take this. It's my ex."
Erica nodded and watched Allison's face. They continued walking.
"Hello, Scott," Allison sighed into her phone. "I forgot to see if they had CDs. Sorry."
"Aw, man," Scott whined into the phone. "That sucks, but it's not why I'm calling. I just got off work and was wondering if you and Stiles needed a ride home. I tried calling him first, but he didn't answer."
"You take the bus to work, how are you gonna give me a ride?" Allison chortled. "And, unlike you, Stiles and I are spending the evening socializing with new people. As in right now."
"One of my bosses gave me cab money from petty cash as a thank you for staying over. The buses don't come by the hospital after ten, so it was either that or walk."
"And you didn't want to walk home in vomit-covered scrubs? How refreshing," Allison said as she mouthed an apology to Erica, who just shrugged nonchalantly in reply. "I'm on a date, Scott. Thanks for thinking of me, but I don't need a ride. And I think the same goes for Stiles."
"Alright, I'll see you at home," he said with a sigh.
"See you at home," Allison repeated before hanging up, powering her phone down, and turning her attention back to Erica. "Sorry about that. Roommates. You know how it goes."
"Roommate? I thought he was your ex?" Erica tilted her head and looked up at Allison. "Look, I'm the last person to judge anyone for having an open relationship, but you've at least gotta be honest about it."
Allison laughed loudly, and someone threw open a window above a boutique that had closed for the day. Then the person yelled at her to shut up because it was late. In response, Allison flipped him the bird and continued on with Erica, albeit a little quieter.
"He is my ex. High school sweetheart, actually. We moved in together with his best friend, Stiles, that guy I was with at the club. It was after high school, and I spent a couple semesters at college. I was studying feminist literature and bingo, I figured out I'm a lesbian. So we broke up, I was too poor to move out, and we got over it and stayed friends.
"It's been like that for the last four years, to be honest."
Throwing a hand out to stop Allison from walking in front of a car that was running a red light, Erica raised both of her eyebrows and whistled.
"That is one of the most cliche things I have ever heard. Feminist literature? All these college lesbians, I swear."
"What? You came out in high school and dated the head cheerleader?" Allison challenged with an easy laugh. She liked talking to Erica. It wasn't strained at all.
"Junior high, and I hung out with the stoners. Then we formed a band. The lesbian clique didn't like me because I still like dick," Erica said with a roll of her eyes. "And yes, my high school did have a lesbian clique. California and all that."
"So you're bi?" Allison asked uncomfortably.
"Is that a problem?" Erica eyed Allison suspiciously.
"Not with me. Stiles, my friend from the club, he's bi, too. Or something. He can't make up his mind what he is, to be honest." It was Allison's turn to shrug as they began crossing the street. "I'm more of a 'whatever makes you happy' kind of gal. No sense in getting mad over something like that."
"How mature of you," Erica said honestly. "I'm sick of everyone thinking I'm bi just because it's trendy. And, honestly, I'm sick of this conversation. Can we talk about something else? Like how pretty you are?"
Allison stopped and Erica started playing with her hair. Suddenly, Allison was glad she'd taken that shower before leaving. "We're here."
With a sweeping hand gesture, Allison showed off the run down diner. It was every bit the 1950s cliched eatery, and it looked like the 50s was the last time it had been cleaned.
"Wow, this is something," Erica blinked, her fingers tangled in Allison's hair mid-stroke. "Like, wow. These places still exist?"
"The food is good," Allison shrugged as she shook her hair free of Erica's hand and opened the door. A bell overhead tinkled, alerting the staff to their presence. The staff, though, consisted of one angry looking middle-aged waitress and one tired young cook.
"Table or booth?" the waitress, whose name tag read "Eve".
Acquiescing to Erica, Allison let her companion make the decision. They were seated at a table and given menus.
"What can I get you to drink?" Eve asked as the two with an air of disinterest.
"I'll take a lemonade," Allison ordered as she opened the menu.
"Can I get water with a lemon wedge?" Erica inquired. Eve just stared at her. "Forget the lemon wedge. I'll just have ice water."
"I'll come back in a bit and see if you're ready to order," Eve told them as she walked away to get their drinks.
"We could have been ready to order now," Erica muttered as she opened her menu.
Smiling, Allison opened her own menu. She had said the food was good. The quality of the service was never mentioned.
"I'm gonna get the pancakes. It's a staple of the local small business experience," Allison shrugged, revelling in her dietary blandness. "What looks good to you?"
"How is the fish dinner?" Erica wondered as she looked up from her menu and into Allison's eyes. There was an unmistakably filthy grin on her face.
TW
It was baffling. Scott had paid for a ride home, but his cabbie had both dropped him off at the wrong place and refused to give him his change. Allison had shut her phone off, and Stiles still wasn't answering. So Scott did the sensible thing and started asking complete strangers for directions.
That was how he found The Girl.
"Let me walk you home. It's not safe to be alone on the streets at night," she told Scott as she traced his jawline with a dark finger and pushed him against a light pole. "Where are you headed?"
"I'll be fine. I just need directions to Hachiko Avenue," Scott protested as The Girl licked her lips and eyed him.
"Hachiko? Dude, that's on the other side of town. How did you get here?" she backed off and pulled out her phone. Her index finger danced on the screen. "Hmm, looks like it's only ten miles away. That's only a couple hours walking. I could keep you company."
"I'm fine. Really."
"If you say so," she shrugged as she began to walk away. Scott's eyes lingered on the back of her head before he changed his mind.
"Okay!" he yelled as he ran to catch up with her. "I would be glad to have your company. My name is Scott."
"Good to meet you, Scott," she offered with a handshake. "I don't want to come off as a manic pixie dream girl or anything, but I kind of am. Except I have a life outside making you happy."
"I don't know what any of that means," Scott blinked in reply. But thanks for the company?"
"Actually, you're keeping me company now, Scrubs."
"It's Scott," he corrected with a confused smile. The girl was intriguing. A little crazy and there was a likely possibility that she'd hack him up into little pieces and cook him on the grill, but still intriguing. "And you are?"
"I'm calling you Scrubs," she laughed as she tugged at Scott's work apparel. "You don't get to know my name. Not yet. Now are you a doctor, a nurse, or an orderly?"
"I could be an escaped mental patient," he suggested in what he hoped was a sly manner. The last thing he wanted was to be creepy. "That is a joke, of course. I swear. I'm a nurse. LPN, to be specific."
"You play all your cards way too soon. This is gonna be fun." The girl grabbed Scott by the wrist and looked at her phone. "Map says to go this way. You can look at it yourself if you want."
Looking at the dark streets and weighing his options, Scott took the phone and glanced at it. The map she had pulled up was correct.
"You must be new to town to get lost this easily," she said to Scott when he handed her back the phone. "Why didn't you just grab a cab?"
"I did. He ripped me off. It's fine, though, because I have his license plate number. His ass is mine when I get home," Scott bragged as they began walking. "Since I'm not allowed to know your name, what can I call you?"
She just smiled and didn't say anything. Instead, she reached into Scott's jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. "I don't wanna use up my battery. What do you have on here?"
"What are you doing?" Scott wasn't amused as he reached for his phone. The girl let go of his wrist and danced just out of his reach.
"There are a lot of classical music songs on here. Dude, Scrubs, are you going all pretentious on me?" she began playing something from Beethoven, but Scott was too annoyed to pay attention to just what. "Calm down, I'll give it back. It's just that you need a soundtrack for things like this. And you really don't have the music to pull it off."
"Forgive me for being cultured," Scott groused as he took his phone back and stopped the music. "Do you know what boundaries are? Because you seem to have a penchant for crossing them."
"Chill out, Scrubs, you're acting like I tried to steal your phone and no such thing happened. I'm just trying to lighten the mood and you're being an asshole. Why am I even bothering? You aren't all that cute?" She waved goodbye to Scott and started to walk away.
"I'm sorry!" he yelled after her, even though he had no idea what he was apologizing for.
"Yeah," she agreed as she looked back at him, "You are, Scrubs. You need to learn to be nicer."
Scott smiled at her and took a step forward. She didn't step back, so he took it as a sign to continue. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's been a not great night. Sorry."
"You already apologized."
"I know, but I thought it needed to be said again?" Scott wasn't sure that what he was saying even made sense. He wasn't even sure why he gave a damn if this woman walked away. "I'm sorry, Elise."
"Who is Elise?" she asked as she tilted her head and looked into Scott's eyes.
He smiled again and walked past her. Then he stopped, turned around, and held his hands out. "Well, I have to call you something since you won't tell me your name. And that song you played that you didn't like? It was 'Fur Elise'. Therefore, I'm calling you Elise. Would you still like to escort me home?"
"Sure," she answered warily before taking Scott by the arm. "It's not safe out here for a pretty little thing like you to be walking around alone. You never know what dangers are lurking in the shadows."
TW
The was still open, but the band he'd come to see had already been gone for ages. Stiles stayed not for the coffee, though it was good, but instead for the conversation. This barista, this Derek, it was easy to talk with him. Even though they had nothing to talk about.
"Yeah, those guys from the jazz group, The Betas, they don't exactly get paid for performing here," Derek answered when Stiles wondered how much a gig was worth. "They get tips and album sales, but we have an agreement that they get to perform whenever they want and I don't pay. All they have to do is make sure we haven't booked anyone else first."
"Do you ever book anyone else?" Stiles asked as he picked a blueberry out of his day-old muffin and popped it into his mouth. "I mean, I just found out about this place tonight, so I don't exactly know the status quo."
"Believe me, I would've remembered seeing you around before," Derek smirked as he wiped the counter with a wet rag. Stiles lifted his plate and coffee mug so the barista could clean. "And we don't normally book people. Beacon Hills isn't exactly known for its thriving music scene."
"Preach it, Sister!" Stiles laughed as he set his coffee and plate back onto the table. "How long have you been open, anyway? I thought I knew all the places in town."
"About six months. My uncle opened it with no business plan, and we were about to close down until my sister turned things around. She's studying to be a marketing whiz or something. All I know is, she kept talking about social media and underground marketing and here we are. The trio that came out tonight actually went to high school with her."
"Fascinating," Stiles half lied as he peeled off a hunk of muffin and rolled it between his fingers. "So, you guys have, like, Twitter and stuff?"
"Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, all that stuff. She's always showing off pictures of the food and drinks and customers. Some of them are going to be in her gallery showing, actually. I just come in and bake the stuff in the morning, and serve it at night," Derek answered before interrupting the conversation to take another customer's order. Stiles crammed his muffin ball into his mouth.
Stiles really was curious as to how Scott had learned about this place, and why he'd never told anyone about it until now. The atmosphere, even sans live music, was aloof. It was nice. Derek was nice.
"So, you guys have a family business?" Stiles asked before taking a drink of his coffee. "We don't have too many of those in town anymore."
"If by family business you mean my uncle and me being the only full-time employees and Cora pitching in whenever she feels like it, then yeah. We're a family business." Derek leaned on the counter and flashed his teeth at Stiles in a wide grin. "What about you? What do you do?"
Mumbling his answer, Stiles felt his face grow hot. "I'm an assistant manager at Taco Bell."
"Corporate AND competition? Whatever have I gotten myself into?" Derek teased. He ran his tongue along the front of his top set of teeth.
"You have no idea," Stiles agreed nervously as he pushed his plate to Derek. "Want some?"
"Can't eat on the clock," Derek declined as he pushed the plate back. "Besides, I'm more of a strawberry guy."
Reaching his his back pocket, Stiles produced his wallet and pulled three dollar bills out of it and handed them to Derek. "I'll take a strawberry muffin, then. Keep the change and maybe consider taking a break?"
"You are clever," Derek complimented as he rang up Stiles' order and then plopped a strawberry muffin on his plate next to the half-eaten blueberry one. "Can you give me five minutes to get my Uncle to cover me? He'll probably say no, since we close in less than an hour, but you never know."
Nodding, Stiles smiled and took another sip of his coffee. It was already cold, but it was still drinkable. He hadn't realized he'd been nursing the same cup for an hour until Derek had disappeared behind the "employees only" door. Glancing at the time on his phone, Stiles saw it was already ten thirty.
It was really odd how someone so muscular and good looking was into a skinny twenty-something geek. Not that Stiles didn't like the attention, but after things had gone south with Lydia he'd sworn off women and decided to give men a try. Then the Tyler thing had blown up in his face and he swore off men and went back to women. Now he was flirting with what was probably the hottest guy he'd ever met. Odd was the perfect work to use.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket again, Stiles noticed he had missed calls from Scott. Checking his settings, he saw that somehow or other he'd turned his ringer off and the phone wasn't on vibrate. Stiles shrugged. It was probably just Scott calling to say that he was still working late or something. He slipped his phone back into his shirt pocket and took another drink of his cold coffee.
"Sorry about that," Derek apologized when he returned. :I got shot down because we close at eleven. You can hang around and talk during cleanup if you want. It usually takes an hour, though, so I won't get out until midnight."
"And what do we do after midnight?" Stiles asked without thinking. Derek's eyebrows shot up and Stiles about choked on his muffin when he realized what he said. "That so came out wrong."
"Too bad," Derek winked as he tore off a piece of the strawberry muffin and bit into it.
Blinking heavily, Stiles looked from the muffin to Derek and back to the muffin. "Didn't you just tell me you couldn't eat on the clock, good sir?"
"I won't tell if you won't. And none of this 'Sir' stuff. I doubt I'm that much older than you," Derek objected before taking another bite out of his muffin. "I mean, you're, what, twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-three," Stiles corrected, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Did he really look five years older than he actually was? "You?"
"Oh, wow," Derek scratched the back of his neck as he looked up at the ceiling before answering, "I'm actually thirty. That's cool, right?"
"It's fine," Stiles assured Derek even though he had no idea if it was or not. He'd never considered dating someone he had an age gap with that needed to be counted on more than one hand. "Your sister's showing is Tuesday?"
"Yeah. It's in the dance studio up the street. They rent out the studio space after six, so the showing doesn't start until nine. It's nothing big, and the dress code is casual, so just show up how you are now. You'll look great."
"Yeah. Right." Stiles tore into the strawberry muffin and grinned at Derek's noises of protest. "What? I paid for it."
"For me!"
"I never said that," Stiles challenged jokingly. "I am willingly to share, though."