AN: I cannot believe I wrote Chester into a story, I think I am going to be sick. Anyway, I hate when I have a lot of dialogue so I am not too sure how I feel about this one. Oh, there's a lot of mature language or whatever, so if swearing offends you don't read it. Reviews are nice. Good, bad, whatever.
3:07 PM. Go back a few months and this place would have been packed. Kids raced here when the final bell rang to stuff their faces with greasy french fries and strawberry smoothies. The after school rush had turned into that far past lunch and not quite dinner break. We'd get a few regulars, the Grandmas and their yapping fuckhead dogs, but it was mainly empty.
If the management knew that Spin and I were the reason this place was deader than Rick the Freak, I'm sure we'd be fired. Lucky for us, all we were to them were a couple of deadbeat dropouts with nothing better to do with their time.
It's pretty fucking obvious that I'm not the kind of guy who holds a steady job. I don't need to put a hairnet on to make money. There are other ways that are a lot more exciting, require much less effort, and leave me with a bigger pay out. The thing was that I had too much time ever since my curly-haired replacement friend got us expelled. I found myself sitting here day after day waiting for Spin's shift to end. Might as well get paid for it, right?
"Jay, pay attention. You have a table," Spinner said.
I looked over and saw five clones fighting over who would sit in what seat. Fucking wonderful. I recognized a couple of them from school. Grade Nines, the only form of Degrassi life that set foot in this place anymore.
"Chad, that's my seat."
"Chester, I wanted to be next to Chuck."
"Chris, I want to face the window."
Oh, wow.
"Hey you guys, how about a booth instead?" I said, in an attempt to pass the buck. I didn't hear an argument, so I led them over to the other said of The Dot. I put five menus down on the table and then went back behind the counter.
"Looks like they're your problem now."
"You're such a…dufus. Fine, you get the grabbing Grandmas over there. Here are the orders," Spin said handing me his notepad.
The Groping Grannies, slightly senile and all hands. I'd take it over those C-named clowns. Speaking of, I could think of a couple of C-words to describe them.
"Fair trade, Goofbag," I replied.
The boss hated when we swore. In order to keep our jobs we learned to get creative. Dufus? Short for mother-fucking bastard. Goofbag, well, you don't want to know.
I handed back the orders to Joe the Cook and sat down by the counter. One more hour and we were out of here. Spinner and I had our after-work regimen of getting high in the parking lot to tend to. Usually we'd end up laughing at things like chain link fencing and then take on the local 7-11. Most of the very few tips I received were spent on things like cheese doodles and heat-and-eat burritos. On Fridays, we could usually splurge and get some heavier shit. Acid, if we were lucky. It was a Pay Day present to ourselves.
"Hey, I think one of those punks has eyes for your girl," Spinner said, as he came behind the counter.
"Yeah, cause Alex would hang out with a bunch of Grade Nines," I replied.
"You don't have to pretend like you care what the fuck Alex"
"Hey," Joe said from the back. Spinner rolled his eyes.
"What the heck Alex does. I'm talking about Princess Ravine," he continued.
"She's not my girl, and I really doubt that."
"They are talking about some hot blonde chick with short skirts, sounds like Emma to me," Spinner said.
"Funny Spin, that describes half of that stupid school. And it's the half including your ex-girlfriend. Chuck Chester Chad and Paige Michalchuk, sounds like true love to me."
"Shut up, dude. We both know Paige wouldn't date that," he said, sounding offended.
"She did date you, Fliphead."
"That means a lot coming from Mr. Gonorrhea himself," he whispered. "Anyway, he was saying things like 'Emma-leen'. I think someone has a pet name."
"Well, isn't that endearing? Spin, you are missing one important point: I don't care. Greenpeace can spend her time where ever she'd like," I said in a slightly annoyed tone.
"Spit in his burger anyway, I've got history."
So that was the guy who tried to take Pretty Princess Manny away from Sir Spins-a-Lot. Spinner slightly edged him out in the end, but a threat nonetheless.
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
I found it hard to believe that Emma would be hanging around with one of those nerds. She was virtuous and a goody-goody, but everyone knew that wasn't the type of guy she went for. Sure, Sean was a pretty big dork before I knocked some sense into him, but even he was light years above these guys. If you forget the fact that DJ Beatbox had an unnatural love for Kwan's classes, he wasn't so bad either. He spun at a couple of the raves I went to. Then there was me. She grew up over the summer, and hey, things happen. She wasn't the stuck-up prude that she used to be, and I used that to my advantage. So Chris Charles Chucky just wasn't her type. Not that it mattered.
The rest of the shift went by fairly quickly. I pretended that Grandma Grabby Hands was only trying to be friendly, and Spinner dealt with fools one through five.
"Hey Jay, look at this," Spinner said as he held up a black wallet. "Our friends left us a little gift."
"How much is in it?" I asked.
"Sixteen dollars and…thirty-two cents."
"Aren't nerds supposed to save their money? I hope you know I am entitled to half."
"It's mine. I found it. Oh, look at this. There's a desperate sticker that says if it's found to return it to 24 Elmhurst Road," he said with a smirk.
"Then have a nice walk home. Wait, Elmhurst?"
I knew that street. Fuck, all that dope must have been getting to my brain cells because I couldn't remember why for the life of me.
"Yeah, isn't that a few streets over?" Spinner replied.
Everyone that I hung out with lived on the other side of town. You know, the white trash side. On any given day you could find Amy (probably with a guy), Sean (pre-run home to mommy), Ellie (with all her slicing, dicing gadgets), and my personal favorite, ex-girlfriend of the year, Alex. The only time I'd been around here was to work. No. I dropped off Nature Girl. Fuck. It was twenty-two Elmhurst. Wow, I guess that little fucker wasn't kidding when he was talking about her.
"Well then, we've got double the stash for a rainy day. Today we are going on a little field trip. Give me the wallet," I said.
"No, today is not the day you find a heart. We aren't giving the wallet back. It's mine," he replied.
"Take the money out, I don't care. We just have business to handle, understand?"
He handed the wallet over after removing the sixteen dollars and thirty-two cents. Hairnets and aprons were removed accordingly, and soon enough we were on the road. You could spot those Backstreet Boys a mile away. They were tossing footballs in the front yard, and doing the general brother thing. It was nauseating.
"Jay, what are we doing? Fuck, that's like half the cheerleading squad. Wait, there's Manny. No way dude, let's just get out of here," Spinner said as he spotted the girls in Emma's front yard. They looked like they were tie-dying t-shirts. All dressed in skimpy clothing, except Nelson herself.
"Then stay in the car. I don't care," I said as I pulled over in front of Casa De Charchuckster.
The guys moved closer and closer to Emma's house as their game progressed. A clash of the titans was soon to erupt, cheerleaders versus football players. Emma could ref, or something. She was good at rules.
"Hey, you. Football kid," I said getting his attention. Five heads turned in my direction. Before one of the jockstraps got the chance to respond, Emma saw me.
"Get out of my yard, get out of my sight, and most importantly, get out of my life," she said as she headed for her front door.
"Calm down, Killer. Technically I'm in Chuck's yard. Chester's? I don't know, but it's not yours. I'm not here to bother you, okay?"
"Oh my gosh, is that Spinner in your car? You brought him here? Emma, open the door," Manny said frantically.
I held up the wallet and Fool number two came over to claim it.
"You left it in the Dot, just doing my good deed for the day. You guys can go back to football or making t-shirts or whatever the fuck kids these days do," I said as I turned around and headed back for the Civic.
So, that wasn't exactly how I envisioned the situation going. Still, I didn't hear her front door open. I did however feel the sting of Emma Nelson's trademarked death glare on the back of my neck. You can never look back, that's one thing I've learned out of all of this. It didn't matter how hard she was staring you down. It didn't matter that you had a couple of apologies to deliver. Those apologies wouldn't be fitting in front of the Grade Nine celebration that seemed to be going on in her front yard. You have to keep moving forward. I headed for my car, and didn't let myself turn around to see if she was watching, if she cared, or if she hated me as much as she seemed to.
"Hey, where's my money?" I heard one of the Ringling Brothers say.
Yeah. Never look back.
