Chapter 2. Chaos

Kate Austen didn't know what had gotten into her.

Every time she felt like she was beginning to get her life under control, she went and did something to jeopardize her hard work. A month ago, it was running away from her home in Iowa, a few weeks short of graduation. Today, it was abusing the customers.

It was true what she'd said: she needed this job. Her savings had barely been enough to cover the plane ticket to New York; at last count, she'd had twenty-six dollars in the bank, and that was before she'd bought groceries. It was probably closer to zero now, at least until she got her next paycheck. As it was, she was trying to work up the courage to ask for an advance.

If she had lost her job, there was a slight chance that she could talk someone else into hiring her, but not before her landlord came knocking on the door tomorrow evening; employment wasn't easy to come by when you were a high school drop out with no references or marketable skills.

She was lucky that that preppy kid wasn't holding a grudge; he seemed a lot less spoilt than the ones who would come in drunk on Friday and Saturday nights, looking for entertainment at her expense. She was tired of listening to their slurs as she ran back and forth between their tables and the kitchen, tired of the girls' whispers, tired of the boys treating her like they thought she'd go home with them just because their fathers made $100, 000 plus a year. She might be broke, but she wasn't a whore. She wasn't going to stoop to that level on the off chance that it might make her life easier.

There was something about this guy that made her think he wasn't like that, though, that he didn't have the same overblown sense of his own importance. He didn't seem that interested in her, for a start; at first she'd thought he was ignoring her, but now, she was beginning to wonder if he was really that malicious. He could have gotten her into trouble, and he hadn't. He'd actually smiled at her. It was the first act of unadulterated kindness she'd experienced since leaving Iowa; it actually made her feel a little home sick. It wasn't easy, coming to the city from such a small town, even if it was the only way she knew to escape what had happened to her.

As she carried an order to the table next to his, she watched him check his watch, glancing out the window at regular intervals. He was so different to their regular Thursday morning clientele, with his carefully cropped dark hair, and catalogue bought clothes, so out of place in the cracked PVC booth, that she couldn't help wondering who he was meeting. He didn't look like he'd ever been to this part of the city before; she figured he was probably doing some sort of charity work to pad out his resume, maybe one of those big brother programs or something. There was also a legal aid office, and a free medical clinic, on that block; maybe he was just on work experience.

She didn't have to wait long to find out; the door swung open a few minutes later, and a redheaded guy slid into the booth across from him. They had some sort of argument, which the dark-haired guy seemed to lose, or at least forfeit, before the redhead picked up the menu.

Once she'd finished taking an order to the table in the corner, she headed over to them, feeling her heart flutter pathetically when the dark-haired guy offered her another smile. In site of her best efforts, she couldn't help feeling attracted to him, especially after he'd been so nice to her without cause, but it didn't matter, because after today, it was unlikely that she'd ever see him again. He didn't belong here; once he'd finished doing whatever he was doing with his friend, he would go back to Columbia, and that would be that.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked him when she'd finished scribbling down his friend's rather long, disgusting, order of pretty much everything on the breakfast menu, feeling suddenly shy. It had been so long since a guy had looked at her like that, like a human being, a worthwhile one, instead of a piece of meat, or something he'd just scraped off his shoe. It didn't seem to matter to him that she was a diner waitress; unlike a lot of her customers, he seemed to understand that it was just a job, a way to pay the bills, not part of who she was.

Still, even if she had the rest of her life under control, she would never have considered asking him out, no matter how sweet, or good-looking he was. There was a line, and they were definitely on opposite sides.

"It all looks pretty bad," he confessed, skimming over the menu. "What would you suggest?"

If he were any other guy, Kate would have thought he was hitting on her, but she could tell that he was serious; he really was asking for her opinion. "Toast," she told him, returning his smile. "It's about the only thing I can guarantee won't kill you."

She felt another strange little flutter as he laughed at her joke. "Good to know. I think I'll just stick with coffee," he said, handing the menu back to her.

In spite of her better judgment, she kept finding reasons to go back over to his table, so that she could see that smile again. While she knew that she could never allow things between them to go beyond casual flirting, but it had been a while since she'd connected with someone like this, even on such a superficial level. It was nice to know that she wasn't a leper, that there were still some decent guys in the world who would give her the time of day.

She was actually disappointed when, about an hour after he'd arrived, he set down his cup, and stood up, his friend following suit. "I can't interest you in another cup of coffee?" she asked, coming over to clear the dishes away.

The dark-haired guy shook his head with a grin. "No, I have to get to class, and I'm already starting to tweak out as it is. Anymore, and I'll be bouncing off the walls." He took out his wallet, giving her an expectant look. "How much do we owe you?"

Kate made a quick decision. "Forget it," she said, pushing his hand away when he went to offer her some money. After everything he'd done for her that morning, protecting her from the wrath of her boss, and making her feel marginally human again, she figured it was the least she could do. "Consider it a peace offering. Thanks again for not ratting on me, even if I deserved it."

She saw his friend give them a curious look, but she shook it off. It didn't mean anything; all she was doing was returning his kindness.

"Thanks," he said, surprised, but he didn't put his money away; instead, he held a fifty dollar bill out to her. "It's a tip, so you have to take it," he explained, flashing her a slightly self-conscious smile.

She wanted to argue that it was a pretty exorbitant tip, twice the cost of his bill, but with her rent due in little more than twenty four hours, and barely enough money to feed herself, she couldn't afford to turn down his charity, no matter how humiliating it was. "Thank you," she told him softly, tucking it into the pocket of her apron, wondering again why this handsome stranger was being so nice to her.