AN: Just wanted to say thanks to all those who left me feedback. It was much appreciated!
Caltech, Los Angeles, CA, fall semester 1999:
Amber Rossi hurried through the hallways of Jorgensen Laboratory. She had told her friends she would meet them at the Sun and Surf Café, just off of Campus, twenty minutes ago. A computer science major, Amber had gotten caught up working on her programming assignment for her Object Oriented Programming class and had lost track of time. Five weeks into the semester, she was finding the course interesting and challenging. She had always enjoyed a good challenge and getting caught up solving something like that wasn't hard for her to do. There was also something relaxing in using a computer language to find a way to accomplish the task set before her. This also wasn't the first time she had been late meeting her friends and she had a feeling it wouldn't be the last over the next four years of college.
Reaching the parking lot, she got into her vehicle, and pulled carefully out of the parking space. It wasn't long before she was pulling the green Chevy Silverado truck into an empty space outside of the Sun and Surf Café. Grabbing her wallet from her back-pack, she climbed out of the pick-up and pushed the door shut. Slipping her wallet into the back pocket of her jeans, she headed for the café.
The place was packed as it was every Friday night. The Sun and Surf was a popular hangout for the students of Caltech. It's atmosphere captured the carefree beach life of California. The current song from the jukebox sent the sounds of the Beach Boys through the crowded café. Glancing around, Amber quickly spotted her friends at a corner booth near the back of the café.
"There's our wayward computer nerd," Mark Chaulk called out as he spotted Amber approaching the table. "Are you finished hacking into the system to change your grades?" he asked jokingly.
"I don't need to change my grades, as I earn them. You on the other hand might be served better by studying instead of being here," Amber replied as she slid onto the end of the semi-circle bench seat next to her best friend, and roommate Maria Chaulk.
Maria and Mark were twins, and had always been close. Though Mark had a few friend's of his own that he sometimes hung out with, he was more often than not, found hanging with his sister's group. Whereas Maria loved school, and was a Chemistry major, Mark wasn't as focused as his sister. He had the brains, but was more of a free spirit. He hadn't declared a major yet and wasn't even seriously thinking about it. Mark had been recruited to Caltech to play football. Mark was the back-up quarter back for the school's football team, poised to take over the starting role next year when the current quarterback graduated. Mark's grades were just high enough to keep him eligible to play and keep his athletic scholarship, not because he couldn't do it but because he would rather spend his time in other pursuits rather than study.
"I need to vent before the big game tomorrow," Mark countered. "You're all coming right. Coach promised me playing time in the fourth quarter."
"I don't know, I might have to paint my nails," Vanessa Fields, Mark's girlfriend since the beginning of the school year, remarked absently from her place beside him. She picked up a fry from the basket in front of her, and took a bite.
Mark plucked a piece of ice from an empty glass, and proceeded to drop the frozen cube of water down the back of her shirt. Vanessa squealed as the cold ice slid down her back and the friends laughed.
"Amber, Chelsea and I were talking about getting together after the game tomorrow to study for that literature test on Monday. You with us?" Vince Dilaway asked sitting across the table from Amber. The three of them were all in the same English class together.
"Sounds like a plan," Amber told him with a nod.
The friend's conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their waiter.
"Can I get you anything?" the waiter asked, in a hesitant voice. Tall and skinny, Amber thought the guy was way too nervous to be a waiter. She also recognized him as the TA from her chemistry class.
"I'll take a coke and the Chicken Apple Salad," Amber replied, having been to the café enough to know what she wanted without looking at a menu.
"Can I get anything for anyone else?" he asked, looking at the table and not at the occupants of it.
"I'll take another tea, please," Chelsea said.
When no one else spoke up, the waiter turned to leave, stumbling slightly. Mark and Vince laughed lightly, and most of the girls had smiles on their faces as the waiter walked toward the kitchen.
Amber kicked Vince lightly under the table. "Be nice," she scolded him.
"I have never seen such an awkward waiter or waitress in my life," Mark commented. "I'm surprised more people don't end up wearing their orders when he's around."
"He would be kind of cute if he wasn't so awkward," Maria commented, as she watched their waiter disappear into the kitchen area of the café.
The guy was kind of awkward as a TA too, always nervous when in front of the class during the lab sessions. Still, he did seem to know what he was talking about and Amber's classmates said he was very helpful when they went to him for one on one help during office hours. From what she had heard from students in the sections of the course who didn't have the same TA as she did, the same couldn't be said for the other TA.
"You've got to be kidding me?" her brother commented in disbelief. "It has been too long since you've been on a date, I do believe."
"I don't know, I think your sister has a point," Vanessa commented. "However, he's nowhere near as handsome as you," she added, smiling up at her boyfriend.
"Yeah, you better think that," Mark told her, as he leaned in to kiss her.
"Okay, well that's two votes for could be cute," Maria said, clearly enjoying the current subject. "Chelsea what's your vote?"
"Well, if you go for the geeky, nerd type, I guess so," Chelsea replied as she picked up her hamburger. "Me, I'd much rather go for the mysterious, rock-star type guys."
"Yeah, exactly how many piercings did that last dude you dated have?" Vince asked, from his spot beside her.
"Why, Vince? Are you jealous?"
"Not hardly," Vince told her. "I'll stick with my one thank-you," he informed her, referring to the small gold cross stud that could be seen in his left earlobe.
"What about you, Amber?" Maria asked, nudging her friend gently in side. "Is the waiter cute or not?"
"How can you even rate someone you barely know?" Amber asked.
"I've got eyes and I know if I like what I see," Maria replied, with a shrug and a smile.
"There's more to a person than just their looks," Amber responded.
"This from the girl who has been out on exactly one date since I met her," Vince commented. "And that one I practically had to bribe you, as my date didn't want to leave her visiting cousin home alone and I didn't want her to cancel the date."
"I haven't met anyone who has interested me," she replied.
"Sure you haven't. As many students as there are on campus, not to mention the rest of the LA population, and there isn't anyone who interests you? You're just afraid of falling in love."
"So what if I am? It's not all its cracked up to be. If it doesn't work out a lot of people just wind up getting hurt and not just the two involved in the relationship."
"But sometimes it does work," Vanessa commented. "And the ride sure is fun," she added, snuggling up to Mark.
"Vanessa has a point. Our parents have been together for twenty-four years now," Maria said, pointing toward herself and then waving her hand in Mark's direction.
"And I'm happy for them. However, with my Mom's latest marriage, there have been seven weddings and six divorces between my two biological parents. Seems to me your parent's happy marriage is the exception."
"That's not far from the truth, actually," their waiter said, as he placed Chelsea's tea and Amber's coke down in front of them. "Statistics say that forty-one percent of marriages ended up in divorce last year. In fact there were 944,317 divorces in 1999 which was down from the 947,384 the previous year. About 16.8 children per one thousand children under the age of eighteen are involved in their parent's divorce and though seventy-five percent of divorced people remarry, sixty-five percent of those marriages fail."
"That's kind of depressing to know," Chelsea commented.
"Can I get you anything else?" the waiter asked, as if the numbers he had just spouted out were everyday knowledge.
His question was met with seven variations of a negative responses and once again their waiter disappeared.
"Okay, so that was kind of random," Mark said. "Who the hell knows that kind of stuff off the top of their heads anyways?"
"Apparently he's some kind of genius or something," Vince responded. "Our chemistry professor, Dr. Owens, introduced him as Dr. Spencer Reid on the first day of class. Apparently he's working on his second doctorate or something and he's younger than me."
~Well, I was really paying attention the first day of class,~ Amber thought to herself, as she took a sip of her soda. She had chemistry with Vince, in fact the two of the were lab partners.
"Why would you need more than one doctorate?" Mark asked. The whole group realized that Mark was not really expecting an answer, so the conversation changed to the upcoming football game the following day.
The next time they saw their waiter, Spencer had Amber's salad with him. He placed the plate on the table and as he was moving his hand away, brushed Amber's almost empty glass with his hand. The glass started to topple over, and the waiter made a grab for it, accomplishing only to knock the glass over in the other direction. The ice and remaining soda poured onto the table, and flowed toward the edge. Jumping to her feet, Amber managed to only wear a small amount of the dark, sticky liquid, as the rest dripped onto the floor.
"I am so sorry," Spencer said quickly, grabbing some napkins from a now empty table behind him and starting to clean up the spilled liquid. His face had turned a bright crimson.
"It's fine," Amber replied. "I can clean the table, perhaps you could get a mop to clean the floor," she suggested, not really wanting to have her feet sticking to the floor for the remainder of the evening.
"Yeah, sure," Spencer replied, leaving the napkins on the table and heading to the back for a mop.
"Well, you nailed the awkward part there, Maria," Vince commented, picking up the knocked over glass and pushing ice cubes off the edge of the table and back into the glass.
"Someone should tell him that spilling drinks on the customers is not a good way to get tips," Mark commented as he handed some napkins to Maria, who started helping Amber mop up the soda.
"Be nice," Amber chided. "It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone," she responded, feeling the need to defend the guy, though she wasn't sure why. "Thanks," she said, to Chelsea, who had handed her the empty basket that had once contained her fries.
Vince placed the glass, with only ice now in it, on the table. "I'm going to go wash my hands," he told his friends, sliding out of the booth and heading toward the bathroom.
Between the two of them, Amber and Maria quickly had the table dried off, and the soda soaked napkins sitting in the basket.
"I need to wash my hands, myself," Amber said, as she finished drying her hand with a napkin. Though dry she could still feel the stickiness from the soda.
"I'll come with you," Maria said, carefully sliding past the soda on the floor and getting up from the table herself.
As they headed for the bathroom, they passed Spencer carrying the mop. On seeing her, the waiter's face flushed red again and he glanced down at the floor in front of him. Without a word, Amber walked by and entered the woman's bathroom.
"You sure were quick to jump to that guy's defense out there," Maria commented coyly, as the two friends washed their hands in the bathroom's two adjacent sinks.
Maria, Mark, and Amber had known each other before coming to Caltech. Amber had met the twins in kindergarten, not long after her mother had moved her from Commack, Long Island to Freeport, Texas. Maria and Amber had become best friends shortly after meeting and had continued to be friends as they grew up in Freeport.
"He was embarrassed enough by the incident. Vince and Mark's teasing would have only made the situation worse," Amber said defensively.
"Or maybe there is something more too it?" she asked.
"I don't even know the guy," Amber said, as she finished rinsing her hands and turned off the water. She turned to pull a paper towel out of the dispenser.
"But he is cute isn't he?" Maria asked, reaching past Amber to get her own paper towel. When Amber didn't respond, Maria continued. "Oh come on, just because you've got it in that head of yours that love isn't worth bothering with because it doesn't last, doesn't mean you don't look at guys like the rest of us. I've seen you drool over Noah Wylie just like the rest of us."
"Okay, so the waiter is kind of cute," Amber admitted tossing her paper towel into the trash can. "It doesn't mean anything though. Number one he's my TA and I'm sure there is something in the school rules somewhere against that. I'm definitely not chancing my scholarship for a relationship."
"The class is over in December," Maria reminded her.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"I don't like seeing my friend lonely."
"I'm not lonely. I've got my friends," Amber countered as the door opened.
A pair of giggling girls came into the bathroom. Amber recognized them from calculus class. Catching the door with her left hand, Amber let them pass and then started out of the bathroom.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Maria told her, as she followed her best friend out of the bathroom.
The two of them made there way back across the café to where they had left their friends. Vince was already back at the table. A new glass of coke was sitting on the table, and as Amber waited for Maria to slide into her seat, the computer science major scanned the café for the waiter. She spotted him at another table.
Amber sat down at the table and picked up her fork. As she listened to her friends talk, she began to eat her salad, her eyes drifting every so often to watch Spencer Reid.
Realizing that he couldn't avoid it anymore, Spencer Reid made his way over to the table where he had spilled the drink. Avoiding eye contact, he addressed the tables occupants.
"Can I get anyone, anything else?"
"Just the check," Mark replied.
Spencer nodded and turned away from the table as the conversation between the group started up again. It wasn't long before he was returning to the table with the check. He placed the slip of paper on the table, and told them he would get it when they were ready, and headed for another one of his tables.
This was far from the ideal job for him. He was clumsy and sometimes got tongue tied when addressing his customers. The only thing he didn't have to worry about was forgetting someone's order. That had never happened and with his eidetic memory, never would. Still, he would have preferred working anywhere else but at a café frequented by mostly Caltech students but this was the first job he could find, and though his scholarship covered all school expenses, there were still other things he needed to have money for, especially as his mother was in no position to help him out and he had no idea where his father was. Unlike most college students, he didn't have the support system of parents who could help him out. He was on his own, and that meant he couldn't be choosy about jobs. He had to work the one that was available to him.
The fact that two of the students at the table were in one of the chemistry sections that he was the TA for, had not gotten past him. Even after the group left the café this evening, he was still going to have to face those two come next Wednesday evening. To make matters worse, the girl he had spilled the drink on was one of those two. He was dreading Wednesday already.
Not to mention, the girl was pretty. Her wavy brown hair, was cut just above her shoulders and her green eyes had seemed very kind. She had also been very gracious about the accident. Spencer had heard one of her friend's call her Amber. She was just the type of girl that Spencer knew he didn't stand a chance with.
Spencer went back to collect the payment, and bring back the change. After leaving the change and wishing the group a good night, he gratefully left the table for the last time. He had refilled one of his tables drinks when he noticed that the group had left. Making his way back to the table to start clearing it, he anticipated that if there was a tip, it wouldn't be much and he wouldn't blame them at all. To his surprise though, the tip that was left was more generous than most of the tips that were left.
Putting the money in his pocket, Spencer had a feeling that he had Amber to thank for that. Picking up several of the plates he started back for the kitchen.
Four hours later, the last of the customers having left twenty minutes earlier, Spencer Reid was finally able to call it a night. Grabbing his dark brown messenger bag from where he had stored it during his shift, Spencer left the café alone. He walked to the corner of the street and waited for the next bus back to campus.
As he waited, he was aware of the other groups that walked by. Very seldom did he see people walking alone where out in the city or on the Caltech campus. Even when he did notice people walking by themselves, they seemed to know at least a few people that they passed, shouting greetings or waving as they went about their way.
Though he knew some people on campus, classmates that he had worked on projects with or undergraduates from a section he was a TA in, he was very seldom greeted while walking about. In a sea of people, Spencer felt very much alone, much like he had felt most of his life. Part of him felt like he should've been use to it by now, but there was no getting use to something like that. It was human nature to seek companionship from other humans and despite his intellect, Spencer Reid was human.
By the time the bus had arrived, several other people had joined Spencer at the bus stop. Getting on the bus, Spencer headed toward the back of the bus where there were some empty seats, and sat down. Sliding in to sit next to the window, Spencer looked out the window as the bus made its way to the Caltech campus. At the stop closest to the building where he was staying this year, Spencer got off with several other Caltech students and made his way to the dorm.
Though it was late, it was still a Friday night and many of the other residents of the building were still up. Doors to rooms were open, as students visited each other, asking questions of classmates about assignments. Three residents were engaged in a game of monkey in the middle, and Spencer had to dodge a ball that was overthrown.
"I'm sorry," the guy who had thrown the ball, who was probably a few years older than himself, said, as Spencer continued to walking down the hallway.
"It's no problem," Spencer replied, without stopping.
Reaching his room, Spencer took out his key, and let himself into the room. Closing the door, the sounds from the hallway became muffled noises. It didn't take long for him to change into a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Retrieving the book he had just purchased that morning, the most recent release by one of his favorite authors David Rossi, Spencer started reading. He fell asleep somewhere during the fourth chapter.