Kate set the coffees down on the table, "Anything else?"
"We're okay for right now," One of the businessmen replied, "Thanks."
Kate checked her watch. 12:45. The day could not go any slower.
"Gina!" she called to the other waitress, "I'm taking my break, now."
"Sure thing, sweetie," the older woman replied, smacking her bright pink lips.
Kate stepped out of the stuffy diner, into the cool April air, watching the midday gridlock. She had never been much of a city girl, but after all her years as a fugitive she found that it was probably the safest place she could be. New York was the kind of place a girl could lose herself in. In so many different ways.
Kate had always known exactly who she was. Even when everything was shit. Throughout every trauma and trail of her life, she had been someone. When she was on the run, she was someone. She was a fugitive, wanted for murder. She was defined by that title. But she was still someone. On the island, she had been a leader, along with Jack (and sometimes Locke.) She had been innocent on island. She had been loved. But now she was no one. She was a waitress at a hole-in-the-wall diner on the lower east side who barely made enough for rent and groceries. She didn't even technically exist.
She had spent two years on abandon island and yet it was here, among millions that Kate felt alone.
The door opened and shut, a figure blocking the sunlight falling on Kate. It was Gina.
"What's on your mind, Ava, baby?
Kate smiled, but it felt forced even to her, "Nothing. I'm just tired."
"Uh-huh. And I'm Marilyn Monroe." Gina looked disappointed, but relented, "Well, you tell me when you need to."
"Thanks." Kate said it flatly, but was truly grateful. Gina was the first girl friend she'd had in a long time.
Kate tucked her shoulder-length red hair behind her ears. She wondered if she would ever be able to stop hiding. Stop running. Just be herself. She figured that would be the only thing she would miss about the island. How wrong she had been.
Sawyer was sitting outside his tent; book in hand, soaking up the sun.
He looks so normal from this angle Kate mused, as she watched him read.
Time to break the peace. Kate stepped forward, so that she was standing directly in front of Sawyer.
"Woman! You're blocking the sun! I can't see worth a damn." Sawyer spat out, annoyed.
"Good," Kate replied, standing her ground.
"And what's got your panties all in a twist, cupcake?"
"Where is all the alcohol, Sawyer?"
"Jonesin' for a drink, freckles?"
"This isn't a joke. That's the only disinfectant we have for injuries."
Sawyer pursed his lips, realizing that all the fun had been sucked from the conversation.
"Doing the doc's bidding as usual, I see?" Kate just crossed her arms, unimpressed. Sawyer sighed, standing up, "Well, look elsewhere, Austen. I don't know what you're talking about."
Sawyer's rather imposing height forced Kate to turn her head up to speak to him, "You're lying!"
One eyebrow shot up and a cocky smirk crept its way across Sawyer's mouth, "So what if I am, freckles? What are you going to do about it?"
He stepped closer, inches from her, smiling devilishly.
Kate felt a thrill run through her. A challenge.
"You will give me those supplies." She said, her voice holding an almost violent tone.
"I have a better idea."
She rolled her eyes, losing patience, "I'll bet you do."
"Exactly," Sawyer said matter-of-factly.
"What?"
"A bet. A little wager."
Kate raised her eyebrows, skeptical, but waited for him to continue.
"A game of golf. You win, you can take the alcohol and anything else you want from my stash."
Anything? It seemed too easy to Kate, "And if I lose?"
Sawyer's mischievous smile slid slowly across his face, lighting it with a boyish charm that Kate found both endearing and disarming, "If you lose, I get a kiss."
"A kiss?!" Kate exclaimed, incredulous. This man has some nerve, Kate thought, reeling. "Dream on, Sawyer."
He shrugged lazily, settling himself back down in the sand, "Fine by me, shortcake. You just better hope nobody needs that anti-septic anytime soon."
Kate felt like stomping her feet, pulling her hair out, punching a wall in. This man was so frustrating. She turned to leave, infuriated with Sawyer for being a chauvinistic bastard. Infuriated with Jack for putting her in this position. Infuriated with this damn island, its lack of medical supplies, and its tendency to mysteriously injure its residents.
But what would she tell Jack? That she put the camp's safety in danger because she was unwilling to bet on a harmless game of golf?
She turned, hands on her hips, "When?"
He grinned, arrogantly, "I knew you'd come around, Freckles."
Kate wanted to slap him.
"Tomorrow," Sawyer continued, "Around noon."
"Fine."
"Oh, and I should tell you, Sugar…"
"What?" She snapped, annoyed.
"I'm a fantastic kisser. Prepare yourself."
Kate groaned, exasperated and enraged, turning on her heel.
She could hear Sawyer laughing all the way back to her tent.
"Ava? Ava!"
"Huh? Oh, sorry, Gina. I was zoning out." Kate replied, breaking from her reverie.
"I'll say. You were in a whole different place,. Gina looked at Kate carefully, sensing something. "Listen, why don't you head home, sweetie? You don't look well."
Kate began to argue, but Gina held up a hand in that no-nonsense kind of way that said she was not going to relent.
Kate actually felt relief flood her. She was exhausted. "Thank you," she said; giving her a quick hug, "I'll make it up to you."
Gina waved her wrist, "Don't even think about it."
Kate walked back to her apartment in a trance. New York was expensive, and as Kate was not exactly rich she didn't live in the best neighborhood. Or the cleanest.
She pushed herself up the six flights to her apartment (the elevator was broken, again.) Kate stepped into the apartment, glancing around, disheartened. How had this become her life? Just a few years ago, she had been free. True, she had been stranded on an abandoned island, but she had been free. And happy.
She sat on the couch, dazed. She had never felt so alone. Her hands came up to her face, shaking. When the tears began, Kate's only thought was how silly it was for her to be sitting alone in her apartment crying on such a lovely April afternoon.
