DesertedMirage Says: FYI, I've replaced car keys with keycards. It sounds lame, I know. If it turns out to be a little too lame, I'll go back to "keys' and we'll all pretend that never happened. Anyway, a huge thanks to Silverquickstar and ORIONSTORM04. You guys are awesome! :) Your reviews keep me going (and smiling). Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thanks to all those reading and keeping up with this. (You know what? I should merge the prologue with Chapter 1 and end this chapter madness! Technically, this is chapter 8 and not 9.)
I couldn't have been more glad that the following day was Friday. It was the end of one of the craziest weeks of my life. I had received a death threat, watched my best friends break up, and found out that Terry McGinnis was in love with me.
Unfortunately, Friday also marked the busiest work day of the week for me.
After a long day of school, I moved into the already crowded coffee house with a sigh. "Terra" was a booming teen and college-student hot-spot on the weekend. I worked five days a week, and had the job for about a year now.
The inside of Terra was decorated in warm earth tones and clean-cut shapes contrasted with sharp edges. Classic jazz, R&B and alternative rock/folk was usually the music of choice, but recently a jukebox music center was added for teens to choose their own songs (upon my suggestion to Stacy, the manager). Terra also held monthly art shows, weekly music acts, and open mic nights. The food and coffee was delicious and decently priced, keeping students in mind.
I'll admit I was glad to be at work on a Friday, for a change, simply because I could clear my mind there of the week's happenings. I had been needing to get away from my day-to-day.
In the back room, I pulled my brown apron on with a grateful sigh, switching my phone onto silent.
"Hey Max, can you ring up this order for me? My hands are full,"
I looked up to see Tiffany, one of my co-workers, standing in the doorway with a handful of plates headed for the dishwasher.
"Gladly,"
"It's the man in the corner booth near the jukebox," she explained.
I nodded, getting my handheld ready (I wasn't quite able to take orders by memory yet).
Walking out into the packed dining area, I turned a corner to see a blond, middle-aged man in a suit and tie sipping from a mug of coffee.
I smiled in recognition.
"Mr. Cunningham," I greeted, resting a palm on the table-top. "What brings you here to this war-zone?"
Chelsea's dad let out a laugh.
"Well, I got a little tired of those stuck up restaurants and decided to have my coffee and sandwich here. Chelsea tells me this is 'the' place to be if you're under 30."
I chuckled.
"Well, you fit in just fine. What can I get you to eat?"
"Just a chicken salad sandwich and a baked potato. I hear you guys make the best chicken salad."
I nodded.
"Whenever Chelse comes she orders it and says it's to die for."
Mr. Cunningham smiled.
"Then chicken salad it is. You know, I ought to get Chelsea to think about working here."
I grinned while typing the order into my handheld and digitally sending it off to the kitchen.
All of the other employees at Terra were either college students or students of other high schools. In other words, it would be nice working with someone that I knew from school, especially my friend Chelsea.
"You should. She'd love it," I nodded. "It shouldn't take too long to get the food. I'll make sure they move extra quickly."
Mr. Cunningham laughed.
"Not a problem, thanks Max."
While on my way back to the kitchen, I passed a booth with a woman holding a newspaper closely in front of her face. The light on the napkin dispenser was on, which meant that she needed her order to be taken.
"Hi welcome to Terra, what can I get you today, ma'am?"
The woman set the newspaper down on the table.
Dana?! Just my luck. Oh well, act normal.
"Oh, hey girl. Didn't see you there," I swallowed, trying to keep my hands from shaking on my handheld. "You want the usual today, or--"
"Max, I need to talk to you."
I blinked.
Uh oh. She knows.
I took a shaky deep breath.
"Uh…well, I'm on shift now, but maybe on my break."
But Dana looked urgent.
"Max, I need to talk to you…now. I'm in a terrible jam and I don't know who else to go to."
I studied her closely. She didn't even look mad, but more so blank. Maybe slightly hurt.
I frowned, hoping nothing was wrong.
"Well…" I sighed. "Maybe just for a quick second. Got a lot of orders to take."
"Can we go outside?" Dana hastily proposed, her eyes wide and hand gripping her purse.
I chewed my lip.
Wow, she's really on edge. Maybe something really is wrong.
"Um, well… I really can't--"
"C'mon, it'll just take a second," Dana urged, standing up to grab my arm and lead me out the front door. I tried to protest, but she seemed to be a little stronger than usual.
"Dana, what's this all about?" I grumbled, knowing I would be dead if I didn't get back inside ASAP.
But Dana wasn't listening, and she managed to drag me to the vacant back alley behind the café.
Finally, I succeeded in breaking free of her iron grip.
"Dana, I've got a lot of work to do! Maybe we can chat later, okay? I mean, what's the problem so big that you've gotta' drag me off of work?" I shot, growing irate.
It was strangely warm outside for autumn, and the clouds overhead threatened rain.
Dana whirled to face me, her eyes flashing.
"So you think you can just steal boyfriends, huh?! You think you have the right to do that?!"
I froze.
Here we go.
"I-I…"I stuttered, not having been prepared for the accusation so soon. "Listen," I stood up straighter, opting to defend myself. "I don't know what's gotten into Terry anymore than you do! I can't control him, and he's not my boyfriend!"
Dana crossed her arms over her chest, and I watched as her expression changed to a smile. Throwing her head back, she began to laugh.
O…kay.
"Cornered, huh, Maxine?" asked Dana in an uncharacteristically sinister tone.
I didn't reply, feeling highly freaked out now.
"Well, you can't have Terry or anyone else as long as I run the game," Dana seethed, opening her purse and slowly reaching inside.
I raised my eyebrows and instinctively took a step back from her.
"Dana, what are you-"
I stopped in mid-sentence and my eyes grew wide as I watched her withdraw her hand from the purse.
For a second, the sun peeked through the ominous clouds; something glinted in Dana's hand.
It was a knife.
I stood there in shocked disbelief as my best friend gripped the deadly weapon in her hand, ready to attack.
Before I could do anything else, and being too astonished to move, I felt a sharp, icy cold pain in my stomach.
Rain began to pour relentlessly from the clouds as I collapsed to the ground in agony, holding my bleeding torso and hoping she wasn't preparing to strike again.
"Max!!"
I barely heard my name called, but not by Dana. I could feel some kind of force rushing through me, causing the world around me to darken. As the picture dimmed, my body went numb and all I could hear was silence.
Struggling to stay conscious, with the last of my strength, I opened my eyes in time to see what looked like my sister throwing a punch at Dana. But I was getting so weak and the rain was coming down so hard that I thought I must have been seeing things.
"Alicia…"
Has Dana turned into a crazy, murderous psychopath? Has Max been killed by her best friend? For answers to these questions and more, stay tuned!
(And no, I don't hate dear Dana. I just had to...well, you'll find out as you keep reading! I can't explain what happened just yet.)
