Chapter Fourteen: Sweet Pea

The strange thing about Merlotte's is that unlike most establishments it doesn't seem to have a down time. It's usually the morning…then that awkward point between lunch and dinner and off and on until closing however there is never a low point in this joint. Every time I step into the place it fills up completely and totally like someone spilled gasoline and lit a match. Sam says it's because it's the only bar in town but that doesn't explain why Arlene proclaims that I'm her lucky charm and Lafayette comments that it's never a dull night when I'm around. So I've just accepted that no matter what shift I take (morning/mid/dinner) it's always going to be bubbling with dimwitted customers arguing over whether they asked for Mayonnaise or not.

So imagine my surprise when I step into the damn place an hour early before my shift and hear nothing but crickets. Sure there's Sheriff Dearborne and Detective Andy Bellefleur but other than those two the place is a mortuary. I blink slowly as I take a few steps further in to double check that it's not just my own imagination thinking this thing up. The place is really empty; I hope it sincerely stays this way.

"Hey, Sweet Pea, aren't you a little early?"

I look to see Sookie with a pitcher of water and that smile on her face that never seems to diminish. I nod and return my own polite exchange, "Yes, I decided I would come in early and maybe have something to eat before my shift begins."

"Well, you came at the right time," she smiles with a big breath of relief, "I love extra tips and all but I haven't had a shift to myself in days. Lafayette back there's nearly cryin'. Go back there and tell 'im what you want and when you come back I'll bring you some Orange Soda."

My blood runs cold. I don't know how to respond and so I nod once and skirt away. Since escaping that…that place my only joy comes from the growing bundle of cash I'm saving and the taste of Orange Soda that had once been…my best friends favorite drink. No. She was more than my best friend but I can't bring myself to say the word or to think her name because I'm just not ready for memories and honesty. The only thing I'm prepared for is sips of her favorite drink and desperate attempts of trying to be who she already was.

And yet.

The fact that Sookie noticed—noticed something I thought was so miniscule and unimportant to anyone but me—fills me with this strange glow that before only her brother could accomplish. It's not happiness. I swear I will never be happy again. But there is something about someone paying attention to something you do that makes you feel…important.

I shake off the weird effect and step into the kitchen where I see Lafayette with a cigarette he is blowing out into the ceiling fan pointed out the window, "Um, excuse me?"

"No!" His eyes jump to me as he drops the thing on the ground and begins a confusing mini-tantrum, "No! No! No! I was almost out! I had one hour left before you come in! No! No! No!"

"What are you talking about?" I hiss. My hands are bundling into tight fists and my body is tensing as I prepare myself for a battle I had been free of since my lofty escape.

"You! You and that black magic o' yours," he huffs as he turns around and begins flipping on all the grills and then turning to hurriedly begin chopping tomatoes and onions.

I begin to relax slightly, though I am still on guard, because I'm positive that what he is talking about is this Southern Superstition that only the 'good folks' down here hold. Arlene has that lucky rabbits foot, Sookie is constantly mumbling things like spells to people making everyone confused, Terry shouts at black cats, and I've even caught Tommy and Sam shouting at random animals on separate occasions. I roll my eyes and look down, "I don't know what you're talking about. I just want chicken fingers and sweet potato fries."

"I'll see what I can do but I guarantee you ain't gonna have time to eat it," he continues on, "You don't realize but every time you walk through that door half the town follows."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I sigh, putting my bag down with my uniform and shoes inside.

"You take it for what it is and I'll take it for what it is too," he nods, "and what it is: is a damn inconvenience."

"Whatever. I'm going to change and I can promise you half the town won't be out there waiting for me," I shrug, turning my back to him.

"Twenty bucks says they will!" he calls.

"Twenty bucks!" I promise.

Inside the locker room I take in a deep breath of the clay smell that threatens to shove me back to those dark times if I don't pay attention to the brilliant yellow of the lockers instead of the decaying gray of those old walls. I open my locker and begin to change as I keep my eyes steady on that yellow that looks so brilliant under the sun's glaze from the windows on the roof. I would normally be worried about windows in here but I'm more than positive no one can get up there to catch a sight and if they did…

BANG.

BANG.

I drop to the ground and wrap my arms around myself to hide from the blood that flies across my face. Amber. Blondie. Both dead by that fucking monster's hand because of some stupid fucking deal he made with God-knows-who for Babydoll. I shiver under the weight of the blood that must be all over me—oh God I'm drowning in it—and feel a scream working its way out of my throat until I peak upward and see there is no one and nothing there and I'm just in the room alone. I'm all alone. That monster is gone.

Bang. Bang.

I look to the door and see that someone is standing there behind it and knocking on the thing. I stand upright and change quickly as I shout, "Just a minute!" to who ever it could be. I need to smarten up and get real. I can't keep flinching and hiding at the sound of something crashing or the sight of Jason Stackhouse that always makes me glow. I'm not in danger anymore. I need to realize that I am safe.

Once I've finished changing and my things are in my locker I walk to the door and pull it open only to wish that I had left it closed and snuck out through the roof. Standing in front of me is Jason with those brown eyes filled with a sincerity I haven't seen since my Orange Soda drinking girl vanished. I swallow hard and try my hardest not to focus on the warmth of his face that is directly across from mine because the glow inside of me that he creates is something I'm not used to. It is something I just don't know. I have this strange feeling that the closer to him I get the more likely I will burn up and explode like a sun working too close to radioactive materials destined to only make it brighter so it will destroy all that is around it.

"Um...," he looks away and I watch as he brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, "Sook, uh, asked me to go get you. Looks like it's gettin' real busy out there. Lafayette said somethin' about not forgetting his twenty dollars."

I roll my eyes angrily and grasp the doorknob with a frustration taking over me. All I wanted was to eat a little before work instead of being so overly swamped I can't catch a break until the doors are closed. And to top it off with that ridiculous bet I made with Lafayette for twenty dollars I need to save although I'm sure I will make ten fold back. This is exactly what I don't want; especially since all I came to Merlotte's for was a little peace of mind.

"I mean, if you ain't ready I can go an' fill in for you. If you need," he offers with that innocence that is too overwhelming I want to shove him away for fear that I might indulge in the softness, "It can't be that hard."

"No, it's fine," I swallow as I make a step out of the door, "Thank you for getting me…"

I stop in my tracks. His hand, so warm, is just barely around my wrist but there is something inside of it that lights me up in places I need to be shut down just so I can survive. I don't want to look at him because I know the only things I will see are his eyes that are too close to my sisters and if I wait any second longer I know I will begin to cry.

"Don't touch me," I whisper as I yank my arm away.

"Sweet, please, I just…."

He doesn't know what to say and I don't know what to say either.

"I feel like I need to talk to you about some stuff."

There are tears in his voice I don't want to see.

"I need to ta-"

"Just find someone else."

I am enraged by the tears that I hold.

"I have to go to work."

There's no room for anyone else inside of me.

I am all filled up.