Well, summer had begun for me and it is time once again to post another chapter. I must also remind you that I do not own anything except my character(Laura) and the plot. My Bloody Valentine is the property of LionsGate. Unfortunately for us all, Jensen Ackles is now the property of Danielle Harris.

So, without further ado or grumbling…

Chapter 3:

The Bet

Tom Hannigar wasn't lying that morning at the diner. He didn't just disappear like most of the new people I saw at work. The next morning he was back the same as the day before, newspaper in hand. He was there the morning after that… and the morning after that… and every other morning without fail for two weeks. He was becoming just as predictable as most of the 70 year old retired miners who came in at the same time and ordered the same thing for years on end. I would have been lying if I had said I didn't appreciate the routine of pouring his coffee and watching him looking at me with his hazel eyes every day.

Of course, the new highlight of my day also gave Sandra a new hobby. She liked to call it 'trying-to-get-Laura-laid', I however, preferred to call it 'embarrassing-Laura-in-front-of-the-only-single-male-under-the-age-of-50-that-came-into-the-diner.' No matter what it was called, it involved Sandra looking my way every time Tom came in the door… long enough to notice me gazing a second too long in his direction. 'Hey, your boyfriend is here,' she'd always say and not so low as to keep it just turned to our ears. 'Shut up, Sandra,' I'd reply. 'You should ask him what else you could do for him… besides bringing him breakfast. Better yet, tell him you make a mean breakfast in bed, if you catch my drift.' I did my best to ignore her, but once you cut out all the perverted stuff what Sandra said had a ring of truth to it. I did want to know Tom Hannigar in more ways than bringing him breakfast to his table every morning (just not in all the ways Sandra talked about… not yet.)

Everyone's morning routine was shaken up the following Wednesday when a tour bus of people on their way to Virginia stopped at Freddy's. I was supposed to be off that day, but as soon as Sandra and Freddy caught a glimpse of the bus they were on the phone calling me to get my ass up to the diner to help them. There was no time for my pre-work shower. I quietly thanked God for the long, hot bath I had taken the night before to clear my head and think about my dissertation, though it wasn't quite the same. There was no time for my morning coffee which had the potential to cause problems. There was barely enough time to get dressed and get out the door that morning.

When I did get to the diner, I had the strange sensation I was walking onto a battle field. All of the tables in the place were full. I had never seen the place so occupied in all my years of working there. Sandra said it came pretty close after the graduation ceremony let out, but I never worked at the diner that day because I had to attend the ceremony. I was still a teacher at that time of the year. But now, I was right in the middle of the storm of people. All we could hope for was that they wouldn't want anything too complicated.

One by one, Sandra and I took on the tables full of people. Despite the chaos, it was a relatively smooth process. It was just never ending. The few people that finished first went back to the bus to sit, but the tables didn't stay vacant long. By then, the usual customers were up and ready for their breakfast. For the first time ever, I got to wait on Tom Hannigar without hearing Sandra's unwelcome input. It would have been nice… if I had actually gotten to speak to him. I had to move on quickly and barely squeezed in a 'Good Morning' to him. And when he replied with only half of his usual smile. Part of me wondered if he missed our morning exchange as much as I did. Somehow, I doubted it… but I did have reason to believe that he had noticed.

A little while later, Sandra and I had all the tables waited on. We had concurred the battlefield of hungry people and by then were completely exhausted. Luckily for me, it meant I got to go home and rest. Unluckily for Sandra, it meant she had to suck it up and stay on her feet all day until her work was done and nightshift came in to relieve her and Freddy. I was just about to grab my keys and make my way to the door as fast as my sore legs could carry me when Sandra came up behind me.

"Hey, your boyfriend is still here," she commented slyly.

"Shut up, Sandra," I returned with mock hatred, but there were some real bits of frustration in my tone as well.

"Hey, you're off now."

"And? What's that have to do with anything?"

"You should go talk to him."

"And what? Tell him I'm dirty and see if he has a shower I can use?"

"No, don't say that. Then he'll think you're a whore." I rolled my eyes. Why was it that when I made a joke, Sandra took it seriously? Why was he the only one allowed to make perverted jokes at the expense of my love life?

"Then what did you think I should say?" I asked.

"Are you actually going to go over there and sit with him?"

"NO!… maybe… I dunno…"

"What's the matter? Are you scared?" She asked mockingly.

"Terrified," I replied sarcastically. "He could be some kind of psycho, you know."

"Well, isn't that kinda your job?"

"Not yet, it isn't."

"Then you should go practice."

"On him? No."

"Yes, on him."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"If he's not a psycho, he'll think I'm one if I go sit down beside him."

"No he won't. He likes you."

"No, he doesn't."

"Yea, he does."

"You're insane!"

"Wanna bet?"

"What?"

"I bet if you go over and ask to sit with him, he'll say yes… and you'll end up talking."

I thought about it for a second. In a week of two, Tom Hannigar would probably just get tired of Pleasantville and leave town anyway. It wasn't like flirting with a local boy who would stick around forever as a constant reminder that he had rejected you. There wasn't anything like that to loose in this situation. He was sitting out in the dining room at a table by himself, wearing the dark green button-up shirt that made the green in hims eyes come out over his gray t-shirt… my favorite thing he had worn into the diner in the two week since I seen him. I mentally cursed and let out a heavy sigh.

"How much?" I asked after my few moment of silent contemplation.

"Ten bucks."

"I'll take that bet," I agreed, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing while my head felt like it was going to explode. "I could use ten bucks."

"So could I," Sandra countered. I rolled my eyes at her as if to say, 'you're not the one who's gonna get it' before I grabbed my stuff and started walking in his general direction.

Tom didn't look up at me until I was nearly at his table. He had been completely engrossed in his newspaper until my footsteps got close enough to the point my footsteps could be coming to no other destination but to him. He looked up at me, smiling his usual smile that made me suddenly conscious of everything I did. If I hadn't already been too late… if there had been any chance that it would not have been blatantly obvious what I was doing, I would have probably turned around. I tried to stay calm and remind myself there was nothing to loose but for some reason, when he was looking at me, that mental statement didn't seem altogether true.

"Good morning… again," I said, deciding to speak before I got any father into psyching myself out.

"Good morning," Tom returned. He said it just like usual, not sounding like I had freaked him out at all. I took that as a good sign.

"Um… do you mind if I sit down here for a minute? The diner's kinda full and it's been a long morning…"

"No, I don't mind."

"Thanks," I said quietly as I took a seat across from him. I was seated, but Sandra hadn't won the bet yet. It was still entirely possible he had let me sit down just to be nice, that he didn't like me at all and was only being a gentlemen because after all, I was the one who brought him his breakfast almost every morning.

"You're welcome…" he paused for a second after that, like he wanted to keep talking but had no earthly idea where to start. "It… has been crazy in here today."

"Yea," I responded, trying to gently encourage him to keep the conversation. Where it went didn't matter to me. "So much for my day off."

"Oh… yea, that dose suck. Did you have plans?"

"Not really. Just sitting around the house, maybe working on my dissertation," I answered, scolding myself for already bringing my other line of work into the conversation. "I'm working toward my PhD in Psychology."

"Really? That's interesting." Tom replied. Not in the way that people did when they thought I was weird or the they had no idea what I was talking about. His response was genuine, like he was actually interested in what I was doing.

"Yea, it really is," I agreed before taking another glance into his hazel eyes. "So… what about you, Tom Hannigar? What kind of interesting things are you up to?"

"Nothing really," he looked down at his empty coffee cup while I spoke. "My dad… he owned a coal mine back where I used to live. I guess everyone just always thought I'd just take over the family business."

"And… you don't want to?"

"No. I don't know exactly what I want… but not that."

I nodded. He would never know just how much I could relate to what he was saying.

"That… sounds familiar," I said softly. "I'm sure you'll figure out what you want soon. Take it from experience, once you break away from what everyone else expects from you… what you want isn't far behind."

Our eyes met and there was a few seconds of silence before anything else was said. The conversation continued for a while longer, both of us just talking like it was a natural thing for us to do.

Before I left, I made sure Tom wasn't looking and pulled out a ten dollar bill from my pocket. I put it on the table where I was sure Sandra would find it. She deserved it. She had been right. Tom and I had talked….and I did really like him.