A/N: Hiiii C¦ Sorry for not updating over the weekend, I had too much homework (and I only went to school on Thursday and Friday!), a movie at my friend's house (Hunger Games, for the second time), and I just felt tired and mopey most of the time. Buut I know I need to update so I'm going to write the next chapter now. Um, as you can tell.
Don't worry; I will write another for 60 Days sometime, I'm not neglecting it.
Disclaimer: If JP gave me MR rights, I would die. So, as you can see, he hasn't. ¬_¬ And I don't own any of the shops I mentioned in this chapter (if they exist), I just made them up. Also, I made up Max's phone number and email address, so don't try to contact her. LOL.
I stared at the sand on the beach from my hotel balcony, trying to identify each different grain with my superhuman vision. It's working, I think. I can see individual colours and shapes, but not in focus. I'm going to need to practice on that, because I heard that the human world is a raw thing, and you need to hold on tight. So I'll need to hold on even tighter, seeing as I've only been in the human world for a couple of days.
Since I realised that I was in Miami, I've been looking up different places to get a room (I already chose one, as you can see. And if you can't, then you should've gone to Specsavers), an education and a job. I've already narrowed it to two nearby high schools, and there's about a bajillion shops around here, so I'm going to see if I can get a job in one without having any actual record of my entire life. Because I know at least they'll want to see if I've mugged anyone before.
I have. And the mug hit him smack dab on the nose!
Sighing, I turned around and headed back into the hotel room. It's a cheap one, but it's not really that bad. It has a double bed, an en-suite bathroom, and some decent furniture. It even has one of those ancient box TVs, which I was amazed by, the way modern teens might be amazed if David Beckham came into their favourite coffee shop and asked for a frappuccino. I may have lived around white coats all my life, but they only have TVs in the control rooms, for security purposes. Believe it or not, evil scientists don't watch SpongeBob. I know, it's an outrage, right?
I checked the digital plug-in clock on the wooden (looks more like cardboard to me, but whatever floats your pickle) nightstand. 10:39. Alright, that's a decent time to start looking for a place to get a job, right? I threw my phone in my already half junk-filled denim messenger bag and headed out.
As soon as I stepped out of the lobby I was swept away by a crowd of teenagers in beach-wear, and to my amusement one of them was carrying a bright green inflatable crocodile under his arm. And also, to my um, not-amusement (?), I noticed that it was the dark-haired guy on the beach. Okay, time to turn on the warp drive. Things getting awkward isn't something I'm used to.
Fishing in my bag, I found the list of shops that I wanted to try. As I read through it, I noticed a pattern: they were all places where you could get food or drink. So, first up, Milk-a-moo.
The inside was a nice, child-oriented kind of places with huge milkshake churners straight in view and their selection of 50 toppings on display in clear plastic bowls. All in all, it didn't strike me, but the things people do for money are shocking. It could be so much worse.
I walked up to the counter and ordered a regular with Turkish delight and dark chocolate chips, then started talking with the guy about getting a job here. "So, I saw the job sign on the front door, and I was looking for one. Would you be able to help me?" He smiled and nodded hopefully (did I mention he was my age? And cute?). Tee-hee.
"You're sixteen, right?"
"Fifteen."
"Oh," the smile dropped away from his face. "You have to be at least sixteen to work at this place, and there are already two others running for the job. But I thought, if you had been sixteen, maybe I could've hooked you up somehow. Looks like we won't be working together anytime soon." I left soon after that with my milkshake and a frown. Awww.
The next place I visited was Meatball Madness, but there was an age restriction of 18 years, because of all the grills and potentially dangerous equipment in the back. Next on the list was Kenny's Korndogs, but the manager was a complete weirdo who was twice my age and I think he was hitting on me, so that was quickly ticked off. Afterwards I went into ASPCS (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Stomachs) which was pretty much a snack bar, but I was turned down there too, and after a couple more turn-offs, the last place on my list was Chico's Churros. Let's just hope, then.
As I walked into the place, my first impression is that it's definitely somewhere I could work: fun, open, and full of hungry people just like me. I sat down on one of the circular, red glass tables and called over a waitress. First thing I was going to do was order a churro, and then get talking to her about an occupation. I know there is one, because I checked around the shops local to see which places have openings. This definitely does, to my delight.
"Hi there, what can I get you? A churro, a churro, or a churro?" she giggled, her tanned face framed by lush dark brown waves. I grinned, and ordered a sugar churro with a melted chocolate dip. Let me just say now, yay. You heard it here first folks.
"Er?" she looked at me expectantly, her eyes on me and her hand still writing my order on the notebook. :o "Well, I was wondering, since there's a job opening, d'you think I could apply for it?"
"Oh, totally, you look like you'd make a great waitress." She glanced around like she was making sure no one was watching, and then leaned into my ear. "Have you ever seen many girls come into this place? Or any male waiters?" I looked around, and then realised there were only a few girls eating in there and only one male waiter. All the waitresses were really pretty, and *cough* notwearingmuch *cough*.
"Ahhh. I get it." I nodded, and she laughed, then put on a serious face.
"But they only share that with employees, so now you have to get a job here, or I'm afraid I'll have to take you downtown, ma'am." Then she was laughing again, and I was too. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. Wait here." She rushed through the back door, and only then did I notice she was wearing roller skates – so were all the other waitresses. I just hoped I wouldn't fall over too much. The girl came back almost ten minutes later with a piece of paper and a white plate with a churro on it.
"Heya! So here's the form you're gonna have to fill out, you can do that here if you want, and here's that churro you ordered. Have fun." She told me, then rolled off to help some more customers, who by the way were all male. I dished a pen out of my bag and started to fill in the form while dipping my churro in chocolate. It was really good, in case you were wondering.
Full name: Maximum Ride
Age: 15
References: 15526975920
Available hours: 3pm – 8pm
Living Distance: 15 minutes
Criminal history: None
Contact Info:
Other Info: Doesn't know how to use roller skates.
Once I'd mopped up the last of the sauce with the end of my churro, I called for the waitress who I'd talked to earlier, and she took my form with that contagiously peppy smile of hers. "So, Maximum, huh?" she asked, skimming over it.
"Max."
"Right, Max. I like that." She shook my hand, and then laughed, still reading my form. "Doesn't know how to use roller skates?" she shook her head, folding it in half. "It'll make him laugh, anyway. So, I think you're going to get the job, from just reading your form. Ooh, I'm Ella, by the way."
"Ella. I'll remember that." I said, getting up. "I'd better go now, then. See you soon, Ella," she nodded hopefully as I left the store and headed back to the hotel, feeling contented. The sun was going down slowly as I walked in a steady rhythm. All I had to do next was apply to a high school, then make up a background story for myself in case anyone asked. I couldn't exactly tell them I had been raised in a lab full of crazies and was next in line to become part of the next generation of wolf-people.
But as I was crossing the road to get to the hotel, the thing I regret most about that night was not turning around, because I definitely didn't see that car coming.
A/N: Ooh! Cliffy! Yay!
I actually started this chapter yesterday, but my brain cogs needed a bit of oiling, so I waited until today to finish it off. I don't usually write many coat-ha – I mean, cliff-hangers, so I'm really pleased with that. And now, time for the question of the chapter!
If you got a job at a restaurant, which restaurant would it be?
My answer to Chapter 2's question: Yep; my family and I went to Florida, but Orlando, not Miami. It was really great, but for someone who's used to British weather, it was sooo hot!
Jazzeegirl: I live in Kent, England. It's really nice here, but really cold too!
-Faximum
