Author's Note- Edited.
Enjoy!
Forbidden
Missing
It wasn't an alarm clock, a rap on my door, or even noisy dorm neighbors that woke me up New Year's Day. It was the relentless throbbing against my temple. I groaned out a whine of displeasure and tried as hard as I could muster in my exhausted state to welcome back sleep. However, the incessant pounding against my head left it nearly impossible to drift off again.
I carefully opened my eyes, wary of the light I was bound to meet since I left my shades open every night. However, I was greeted with a dim darkness in my dorm room. I glanced up at my window to find that the shades were actually shut.
Did I do that?
Come to think of it, not only couldn't I recall if I had drunkenly closed my blinds last night- I do remember having been drunk- but I couldn't remember having gotten to my room in the first place.
Against my headache, I tried to search my memory for what had occurred the night before. I was able to back track my steps from closing up the diner, taking a taxi with Nate to the party, getting sick of the party and Liam's advances and letting Nate know that I was heading home, having an uncomfortable encounter with Liam in his front yard which had been interrupted by Professor Souza and-
I shot up so fast at the thought of Professor Souza that my room swayed and my head exploded in a fit of unpleasant drumming against my skull. I had to catch myself with my elbows against the mattress before I fully collapsed back into my bed.
When the headache died down to a dull thud once again, I carefully sat up all the way and took a few deep and even breaths. After a minute or so I returned to my mission to figure out just how I had gotten home from the party last night and how Professor Souza was involved.
I remembered him being mad at me and then telling me that he was going to take me home. But, no matter how hard I tried to recall the events after I had gotten into his car, I simply couldn't. It was all muddled and fuzzy and it hurt to think too hard about it.
With a sigh of defeat, I decided to put the matter aside for later. I had a new mission to get to.
Find out what time it was and get ready for my evening shift at the diner.
I glanced over towards my bedside table, thinking that the answer would be found on my alarm clock. I found more than just the time there, however. Sitting on top of the table was a water bottle, a packet of Emergen-C and a folded piece of paper. I reached for it tentatively and found small, scribbled and familiar script as its contents.
Chloe,
Drink the Emergen-C to replenish some vitamins and avoid Tylenol unless you want to kill your liver. Try not to stay in bed all day. Exercise helps. See you in class on Monday.
-D
I felt my cheeks and neck flush but not from embarrassment. Whatever had happened last night, I knew this much. Derek had taken care of me. When he had offered me his phone number in the first place, I had thought that he was just trying to keep me from getting in trouble with irresponsible things like drinking underage. After all, he had been in my shoes before and had made the same mistakes. But, though I couldn't recall how I came to this conclusion, what Derek did for me last night seemed a lot more than keeping me out of trouble.
Unable and unwilling to fight the smile that inched across my face from ear to ear, I mixed up the Emergen-C and clambered out of bed. I had slept through the morning and it was nearing two in the afternoon. My shift started half past three and I had to take a taxi to avoid driving if I still had the smallest amount of alcohol in my system. That didn't leave me much time to mosey about in a hangover stupor.
So, after chugging the citrus flavored drink, I stripped myself of the clothes I had warn to the party and hopped in the shower, using my own hangover remedy and alternating between cold and hot water to wake up my unhappy and threateningly uncooperative body.
When I figured that I would be taking Derek's advice as far as getting some exercise, I was thinking more along the lines of a slow day at work. Boy, had I been painfully wrong.
Usually, after a holiday, the diner always seemed almost dead from lack of customers. However, I should have known better after the previous year. Michael's diner was a popular post party/ hangover cure hotspot. For some, the perfect hangover remedy was a greasy meal. For me, it only made my nausea worse, but, to each his own I suppose. So, the diner was bustling as if it were a normal business day and, like a normal business day, there was supposed to be two cooks and three waitresses on shift.
Marcus and Conner were accounted for, burning up the kitchen as they rushed to cook the onslaught of orders. Then there was Beth and I handling the customers and taking their orders. Unfortunately, though, we were missing our third waitress.
Rae.
"Did she call in or anything?" I asked Beth as we were grabbing plates from the pickup window. Beth was working an open to close shift, so she would've known if Rachelle had decided to call in for work and inform us that she wasn't going to make her shift.
The dark haired girl shook her head and replied, "I checked the work phone and even my cell phone. I haven't heard from her all day. But, she's almost an hour late for her shift. Maybe we should call Michael."
"No, Michael doesn't like being bothered by this kind of stuff if we can solve the problem ourselves." Even if he was the owner of the diner, he didn't show his face around the establishment all that much. "Just call in Brent to cover her shift."
When we had called up the only other guy that worked at the diner besides the cooks, he claimed that he wouldn't be able to make it to the diner until at least six. Beth explained that that was roughly the point when the diner got its dinner rush, so we would be able to survive without him until then. I asked him to get here as soon as he could regardless because, whether it was currently a rush or not, the diner was pact.
Beth and I handled our own the best we could and the customers seemed pretty understanding of the circumstances. Most of the people that came to the diner were regulars and they normally appreciated our service or else they would have stopped coming back. So they were merciful on us.
Nate showed up about twenty minutes after we had called Brent and he even joked that maybe he should pick up an apron and help us out if we were willing to pay him.
"For the time being, Beth and I have all the customer's orders delivered to them, so things should slow down for a bit before dinner. Thanks for the offer though."
Nate laughed and pulled out a barstool at the breakfast bar. He sat next to an elderly man reading over a paper and sipping on a cup of coffee. I took the slight break that I had to give Nate a quick once over for any of the symptoms I had felt a couple hours before due to my excess drinking from the previous night. Only, Nate looked perfectly fine save for the slight shadow beneath his blue eyes.
"How is it that you never get any hangovers after parties like that?" I questioned skeptically.
I offered Nate a free water as I normally did and he took it with a shrug.
"I guess I've become more tolerant over the years."
"You're only twenty-one." I pointed out and he gave me a Be serious look. Of course Nate has had alcohol long before he turned twenty-one, but not as much as he has now.
"I just prepare for them, Chloe. Of course, I'm not tiny and I eat more than half the plate I fix up for myself." Nate jabbed. I scowled at him. So what if I ate in moderation? Like he was implying, I was small and couldn't eat an entire pizza in one sitting like him and some of his friends.
"I guess my metabolism tolerates alcohol more than yours does."
"You know, the majority of the girls in our classes would kill for your metabolism."
It was true. Nate wasn't the scrawny kid he had been back during our freshman year of high school. He'd hit his growth spurt at sixteen and his previously lanky build had toned out since then. Even if he could eat and drink enough to the point that would make someone my size spontaneously combust, he remained fit with lean muscle and chiseled features.
Nate rolled his eyes at my comment before passing me a curious look.
"So, how did you get home last night? You missed one hell of a party."
"Yeah?" I questioned, feigning obvious mock interest. "How much of that party did you spend trying to reach that chandelier?"
Nate flushed, his cheeks turning a similar shade to that of his hair as he mumbled something along the lines of I forgot about that, before clearing his throat unnecessarily and pushing on.
"But seriously though, Chloe. If I had a hard time getting a taxi at two in the morning, I can't imagine you being able to catch one before midnight. With everyone partying in the city, I was surprised I got away with only having to hand the driver a fifty."
I shrugged and told him that I had gotten a ride from a friend. When he looked about to ask me what friend, the elderly man sitting next to him interrupted.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you mind turning on the news for me on that television set up there?"
I glanced up to the old TV the diner had hanging over the breakfast bar and wondered, since we didn't use it very often, if Michael kept up on the bill to keep the local cable channels on. I informed the man of this but told him I would give it a try. I reached for the remote beside the brewing station and clicked on the TV. When it confirmed that we still, in fact, had the cable hooked up, I changed it to the local news that aired every day at five.
"Thank you, miss." The elderly man said gingerly and I nodded politely before the anchor's next words caught my attention.
"-young woman by the name of Rachelle Rodgers was reported missing this morning by her roommate and several of her friends."
I blanched and my head whipped up to the television so fast that it could have caused whiplash.
"Hey, doesn't she work here with you, Chloe?" Nate asked.
"Sshh!" I hissed, snatching up the remote once again and turning up the set just as the screen shifted from the news anchor to a female reporter standing beside a local policeman.
"Can you tell us what you know so far?" The young reporter asked. The policeman merely shook his head and crossed his arms.
"I'm afraid that the only information that we have is that she was supposed to meet with several of her friends last night for a New Year's Eve party and, when they came to her apartment looking for her, her roommate claimed that she hadn't seen Ms. Rodgers since the previous day. They filed their report this morning when they couldn't come in contact with her."
"Does anyone know where she was last seen?" The reporter inquired.
I froze. The day before New Year's Eve had been a Sunday, which she had spent working an open to close shift here. As I had closed with her, we walked each other out to our respective cars since Marcus had finished up and left earlier. She hadn't had a shift the next day.
Was it possible? Had I been the last one to see Rae before she was suspected of going missing?
I don't know how long I stood there, blindly watching the screen as they showed an old yearbook photo of Rae and expressed that if anyone saw her to report to the police immediately. I felt numb, though, as my brain filtered through the millions of possibilities as to what could have happened to Rae that night, just after I had left. Had she been abducted? Or was she simply- best case scenario- off hanging out with another friend and forgot about all her other priorities.
The latter seemed the most unlikely.
"Um, hey there, Professor Souza. What're you doing here?" I heard Nate mumble cautiously. I snapped my gaze away from the television and found Derek's eyes just as he glanced away from the television as well. He was standing on the other side of Nate that wasn't occupied by the elderly man paying attention to the TV. I wondered when he had walked in and why he was even there if he had told me in his note he wouldn't see me until Monday.
However, as I deciphered the knowing and concerned look in his jade orbs, I knew why he was here.
He was confirming what he had also seen on the news.
Rachelle Rodgers was missing.