Chapter 7: Coffee Works Wonders
"Come on Bonnie, I expected better from you. You haven't even done one page on your work yet?", came the stern voice of Mrs Hack, Bonnie wanted to shrink into herself, feeling the shame grip her, not letting her go. She liked Mrs Hack, she did, but she hated it when she was scrutinised by her, becoming a disappointment, because when you impressed Mrs Hack, it was one of the most satisfying feelings, as if all of your hard work had actually been worth it, all those hours and time spent, it was all worth it. But when you didn't do the work for Mrs Hack, well for Bonnie, it was the worst feeling, as if she had disappointed her own mother.
"I'm really sorry, I've not had time to think, I'm really struggling with the objectives given", Bonnie replied quietly, head hanging down slightly, her hair falling down in front of her face as if to cover it, as a way to hide herself from her teacher.
Her teacher sighed, "Bonnie, there are times when you need to accept help, that's what I'm here for. Yes, I teach you and educate you but I'm also here to guide you, how can I ever expect any of my students to succeed if they don't ask for help when they need it, it may not sound like it most of the time, but I do want all of my students to succeed here at Blackwell, and you can damn well guarantee I do my best", Mrs Hack gave another heavy sigh, "I believe you can do well in the Artists Hereafter Competition", she paused, "don't tell your fellow students, but I do genuinely believe you are the best student for this competition".
"Oh! The competition, I forgot the coursework could go towards that", Bonnie internally facepalmed, how could she forget about the competition? 50% of her coursework/project could go towards the competition but would still be graded as normal. She looked up when Mrs Hack gave a scoff.
"You're not the only one, because of the Everyday Heroes Contest run by Mr Jefferson,the Artist Hereafter competition has no limelight", Mrs Hack was on a tirade now, her hands waving, "I can tell you now if Mr Jefferson was not at Blackwell the Everyday Heroes contest would get no recognition, it's not as big as the Artist Hereafter Contest I can tell you that now, thousands of Artists across the states enter, and it does not have as much coverage I just–" she gave a sigh, "I apologise for that rant, Miss Wells, I went a little too off-topic, I want you to really dig deep, see what gives you passion, don't think I haven't noticed you constantly drawing in your sketchbook, whatever gives you passion in your sketchbook I want you to emit into your coursework, that's one way to start it off, now I know you're getting bored of me, I'm sure you have somewhere to be". Bonnie was at a loss, her mouth agape as she watched her teacher fumble about with papers, muttering to herself about contests and Mr Jefferson, a sort of weird relief came to her to know that she wasn't the only one who wasn't a huge fan of Mr Jefferson.
"Okay, Mrs Hack, I'll get right to it", she muttered, before clumsily leading herself out of the classroom, a blush covering her face. Thinking on Mrs Hack's words don't think I haven't noticed you constantly drawing in your sketchbook, whatever gives you passion in your sketchbook I want you to emit into your coursework, if only Mrs Hack knew that it was Nathan Prescott that gave her the most "passion", in her sketchbook, with endless sketches and finalised photo-realistic drawings of Nathan fucking Prescott. She would never be able to live it down if people found out. If Victoria found out she would be bullied endlessly, she could hear their words now, their mean, snarky voices attacking her from all directions. She hugged her sketchbook closer to her chest as if to protect it from others' prying, sneaky eyes. Keeping her head down she rushed to her dorm room, she had to get changed and ready for work, it was an evening one, and she was already dreading it.
Normally Bonnie wouldn't dread her shift if it wasn't busy, she would start the process of cleaning the tables, sweeping floors, then mopping floors, and the long, long process of cleaning out the coffee machine. And if all else fails, then Rob would allow her to draw if there was absolutely no one in the Diner, which happened the later the evening went. It was very therapeutic for her.
And if there were customers, Bonnie was already happy to please, she enjoyed talking to people, and hearing their stories, even when regulars would repeat their stories for the 10th time that month, she wouldn't mind, they just wanted someone to listen to. She didn't mind serving people food and making the coffee, it was a relaxed way of working and Bonnie didn't mind.
However, when she hasn't slept properly in the past week because of a certain viral video. When her best friend hasn't spoken to her because she watched said video. When a teacher she doesn't trust keeps looking at her weirdly. When her coursework deadline will soon enough creep up on her. The last thing she wants to do is work. But she did it anyway. Bonnie looked at the time, 5 o'clock, shit! She should've been there at 5 and she was still finding the black skirt she wore purely for waitressing.
"Ugh!" she muttered, spinning around her room before her eyes caught sight of it shoved into the corner of her room, "aha! You little devil", quickly pulling on her black tights, making a ladder in the process, before hurriedly pulling on her skirt over top, finding her shoes, she grabbed her bag, and she was out of the door.
"I'm so sorry Joyce! I really am, I got held up by my teacher but I'm here now! I am so sorry I'm late", Bonnie rushed, her breath leaving her, god she was so late, she was never this late before.
"That's okay darling, just make sure it don't happen again", Joyce's amused drawl left her mouth, a smirk on her lips, "now darling, I hope you don't mind, but I'm finishing my shift here, it's a Thursday night, it's gonna be dead quiet, and you have Robert in the back if you need anything", she spoke, grabbing her coat and keys as she talked, a certain smile coming onto her lips, "bless David, he's already waiting for me at home, he sent me a message not 20 minutes ago about how he cooked me some dinner for when I get back, which is now, see y'all on Saturday Bonnie", and she gave a small wave over her shoulder as she went.
"Bye Robert!", came her distanced reply as she walked through the door, Bonnie couldn't help but smile when she heard Robert's excited goodbye back, hanging up her coat in the cloakroom, Bonnie skipped over to the kitchen, a bright smile on her face as she looked at her favourite chef at the Two Whales Diner, and also the only chef at the Two Whales Diner but oh well, he's still my favourite. She looked up in the kitchen, grimacing as the harsh white lights stung her eyes in the stainless-steel kitchen. Glancing around, she saw Chef Robert, a rosy cheek to his smile as he rolled out dough for what she presumed would be the pastries for the next day, ready to be eaten by hungry customers. His brown hair flicked with a few grey streaks was slicked back, a white chef's cap lazily placed on the centre, eager to fall off. A ragged t-towel was placed over his shoulder as he hummed to himself, before looking up at the wincing girl before him.
"Well, if it isn't my favourite waitress, come to grace me with her presence 20 minutes late", he chuckled, still rolling out his dough as if his life depended on it. Bonnie laughed to herself.
"Oh, come on, Robert, you and I both know I am not your favourite waitress, that position belongs to a certain Miss Joyce don't'cha think?", she giggled again, before going over and grabbing a t-towel herself, ready to protect her hands from any hot plates.
"Oh, get back in there girl", he chided back, before reaching over and turning the radio louder, cackling in response, she turned back around, heading out into the main section of the diner, having absolutely no surprise when she saw that there were no customers, it was a Thursday night after all. Starting the menial jobs when there were no customers, Bonnie grabbed a cloth and spray, ready to wipe down all of the tables from the gunk, and spilt beans and knocked over coffee that had been there for most of the day. Humming to herself, she started leaning over, wiping down each table, having to really rub at certain places when some people decided they wanted to stick their chewing gum to the table. Doubling down and spraying the surface an extra three times she noticed in the corner were some science equations etched into the corner, hastily scribbled, and some crossed out; she huffed, letting an annoyed growl leave her.
"Warren! This was definitely you", she muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance, he at least could've used a pen, that way I could at least scrub it off eventually, now his dumb science equations are stuck on that table forever, she thought grumpily, before moving onto the next table, an ickiness shivering down into her stomach as she saw what was clearly spit and snot wiped onto the booth chair, "I love this job…so fun", she muttered again to herself, before bending over again to spray and wipe at the diner booth seats, she was definitely washing her hands at least three times after this. Scrubbing and scrubbing so at least everything was somewhat clean, Bonnie felt her hands starting to sting, from all the chemicals she had been thoroughly scrubbing both onto the table and eventually on her hands, her hands, which, over time got dry and cracked from the constant washing and cleaning and serving, cracking, and leaving tiny scratch marks over her knuckles; Robert called them workers hands. Wiping her hands on her apron she grabbed the spray bottle, ready to go down on the next table when headlights washed the whole diner in a harsh light, everything was suddenly eerily visible, and Bonnie felt a silent shiver go down her spine, a lump in her throat as if there was danger oncoming. Taking deep breaths, Bonnie tried to remind herself, you are not alone, Robert is in the next room, just a few feet away. Shaking her head as if to rid her thoughts, she went over to the next table. She was on a mission now, to clean all the tables in the diner, she had started cleaning and now she didn't want to stop, leaning over the next table she started wiping, leaning most of her body over as she reached the far corner that was pushed against the wall, harshly scrubbing at a stubborn piece of dirt that was just out of reach.
"Well, that is a nice view", came a whisper, almost as if that wasn't to be heard as if said to be a secret, a hush, but Bonnie heard, whipping around, her heart in her throat, she turned to see Mr Jefferson, standing there, watching her.
"Excuse me?", she asked, she couldn't have heard that right, Mr Jefferson knows she works here, and he knows she's a student at Blackwell, he wouldn't say that. She definitely heard him wrong, straightening up and nervously wiping her hands down her apron, she warily glanced up at the new Blackwell's heartthrob. A heartthrob that she didn't understand and gave her the creeps. The look on his face when he saw her outside the Vortex Party is something she will never forget, it was a look of pure distaste, disgust and evil. Bonnie would be a fool to forget it. She watched as his eyes lazily glanced at her from her head, slowly dragging down her body to her toes, before reaching up again and eagerly looking at her hair, which she had forgotten to tie up in her haste to get to work on time.
"You must be quite fit to work here, with all that running around serving customers left and right", he mused, once again looking at her bedraggled hair, his eyes unwilling to leave the golden locks, as if they were enraptured by its beauty, although slightly messy, it was easy to tell her hair was something pure, angelic, and Mr Jefferson was a moth to a flame.
"Can I help you, Mr Jefferson?", she asked quietly, gripping her hair tie on her wrist, tie it up, tie it up, she internally shouted at herself, not trying to raise suspicion, she calmly walked over to the other side of the diner, behind the bar, at least now there's an actual barrier between us, this barrier will protect me. Slowly, she began twisting her hair into a ponytail, carefully doing so, as if too much movement would enrage the beast in front of her. She felt queasy as she watched the disappointment darken Mr Jefferson's eyes as she tied her hair away.
"Oh, yes, I hope it's not too late–"
"We're open 24 hours a day sir", she interrupted, wincing slightly at his look of annoyance.
"Well, I was hoping for just a cappuccino, nothing too major, I promise you I won't be a bother", he smiled, eyes coquettish as he looked her up and down once again. Giving him a tight smile, she turned around, ready to make him his cappuccino, pouring in fresh beans, ready to be ground, before frothing the milk to add. Wiping everything down, and making sure the coffee was perfect, she turned back around, giving her best service with a smile.
"Here you go sir, one cappuccino", she quickly placed the mug onto the counter, cringing as his hand was left hanging there as he wanted to take it straight from her hand. He eagerly grabbed the mug, wrapping his hands around the warmth, before slurping his coffee loudly, Bonnie winced at the sound.
"Ooh, that's just what I needed, thank you, Bonnie", he hummed, dark eyes looking at her as he slurped his coffee once again, "and please, I've told you before, call me Mark, when we're outside of Blackwell's premises, I've always felt sir was too formal, and I always like to get personal with my students, it always makes me feel more connected to them", he smiled again, the smile didn't reach his dark endless eyes, that looked at her as if she was just easy prey, easy pickings. Bonnie felt an uncomfortable shiver go down her, but she carried on smiling, she didn't want to upset him and cause anger, she could work through this. But she would refuse to call him Mark, Mark, made her uncomfortable, but it wasn't that he had said anything or done anything completely outrageous. It was the little things he did, slowly building up and up before eventually, it will boil over, and become something catastrophic; and that was what Bonnie was afraid of. All of these little things, that he did, the comments, the side-eyes, the phone call, the watching, it would all just boil over. Sighing to herself, she grabbed her cloth to begin spraying down and cleaning the counter, hoping it would give Mr Jefferson the hint to just go. Of course, he didn't get the hint, he carried on slurping his coffee, eyes looking at her hair every time he took a sip. A slurpy, noisy, in-your-face, sip of coffee. Oh, it was pretentious all right, and Bonnie wanted to rip her hair out if she had to hear that damn slurping again. Turning around to start cleaning out the coffee grounds of the coffee machine, she got to work, she could ignore him, she could get this over with, she had dealt with plenty of customers in her lifetime, some rude, flirtatious, disgusting and outright mean. Yes, she had the few that were nice but that was the minority.
Crash!
Spinning around, eyes widened, her hand on her heart in fright, Jesus! That made me jump a bloody mile, looking up she saw Mr Jefferson calmly looking down at the floor, a frown on his lips, and no coffee cup in hand. He looked up at her almost apologetically, the key word being almost, it was a fake, some superficial type of shit, a poor attempt at feeling guilty, but underneath, there was a deviousness to it.
"Oh! I am sorry, I dropped my coffee cup, I'll pay for the damages, it's not an issue for me", he pointed, nose tilted up, yes, I get it, you have money, Bonnie rolled her eyes before going back out into the kitchen to look for the dustpan and brush. Walking back into the uncomfortable harsh lighting, which now felt like a safety net between her and Mr Jefferson. Robert looked up from his baking, letting out a small chuckle, as he saw her pick up the brush.
"Making a mess are we, Bonnie?"
"Noooo", she drawled out, snickering to herself as she left the kitchen once again, a small smile on her face as she heard Robert chuckle in response, which immediately dropped as she went back in. The Diner was so dark, the weak lighting not nearly powerful enough to light up the whole area, really need to change those bulbs, the silence was so quiet it left a ringing in her ears as she looked at the imposing silhouette of Mr Jefferson sitting there, watching her. The kitchen doors slammed shut, enclosing them in even more obscurity. Gulping down, Bonnie steadily walked over to the other side of the counter, breaking the barrier between them, and ripping away any sense of security that Bonnie felt she had.
Looking down, she saw the smashed pieces of the cup, some coffee leftover, had spilt onto the floor as well, great, I'm going to need to get the mop as well, clenching the dustpan and brush tightly, she grit her teeth, before striding over to the smashed pieces. That resided right by Mr Jeffersons' feet. Feeling her cheeks get hot at the embarrassing situation that was brewing before her, she leant down and started to sweep. Her hands shook as she tried to sweep up as much as she could as quickly as she could. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart hammering, she tried to focus on Roberts's interesting taste in music and his slightly off-tune singing, she desperately tried to ignore the slight groan that she heard from up above.
"Why'd you put up with that shit?
Why don't we pack and leave this?
Why do you smile when he cries?
Why do you cry when he wins?
Fight for me"
Bonnie felt a smile bring its way up again, she could do this, she felt a tear slip its way into her mouth, as she carried on sweeping, her hair falling in front of her face again, another tear running down, her damn hair falling again as she desperately tried to push it back again, picking up the larger pieces, uncaring if it cut her hands, she swept it all up. She had done it. Letting out a breath, she slowly got back up, coming face to face with Mr Jefferson's feet, to his legs to his torso, before eventually, to his face. His face looked almost disappointed, however, a new, reinvigorated smile crept up on him, as if he couldn't help it.
"Thank, you Bonnie", he smiled again, showing off his pearly whites, before pushing up his glasses that had slipped down, "now be a good girl, and throw that in the bin".
She blanked, "excuse me?"
"You heard me", she went to open her mouth to retort back but he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, her mouth agape, she turned around, ready to move, to get away, to get that nice barrier between them.
Tap.
Whipping around, her hair flying in her face she looked up at Mr Jefferson, who was calmly looking at his phone, a restrained smile on his face. Heart thud, thud, thundering, she bolted back into the kitchen, her tears unescapable. She could have sworn it, she had felt it, he had touched her, he had touched her ass, she knew it. God, she was so stupid, she should've just let him clean it up, or she shouldn't have worn this damn skirt, even though, secretly, she knew it didn't matter what she wore. She should've stayed back, let his feet step on the broken pieces of ceramic. She should've–
She felt sick.
"My love are you okay?", Robert's concerned voice broke her raging interior thoughts, looking up, she tried to release the words, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. "Come here girl", and before she could protest, his large arms bundled her up in a crushing, protective hug. Bonnie felt a sob release her, Mr Jefferson had no damn boundaries, he had no right to touch her.
"A customer, he…he touched me", she felt his arms tighten, and his breaths get heavier.
"HE WHAT?", his larger, thunderous voice echoed across the kitchen, shaking her to her core, she felt the warmth leave her into a shivering mess as Chef Robert let her go, storming out of the kitchen, Bonnie following in tow.
Rushing out, expecting to see Robert barrelling into Mr Jefferson, imagine her surprise when she saw Robert standing in the middle of the diner, looking around in a complete loss, a note held in his hand, staring at the words written on there. He scoffed, before scrunching up the note and chucking it on the floor. Storming over to the counter she watched as Robert picked up a twenty-dollar bill, far more than what Mr Jefferson should've paid for.
"Bastard", he scoffed, before angrily shoving the money in the till and slamming the tray shut. Scoffing to himself again before swinging the kitchen doors open once again. Bonnie watched as they swung shut, tears still staining her angelic, shocked face. The kitchen doors swung back open again to a sweaty, heavy-breathing Robert, he looked at her.
"If that bastard comes in again, shout me, and I'll come straight to you, I'm right next door", he let out a breath, scrunching up his hat in his big hands, crumpling the fabric into a tight ball, "I'm sorry I can't let you leave early, girl, if I could, I would, honestly, but you still have a few hours yet", he uncrumpled his hat, smoothing his hair down as he hastily put it back on again, "but I am right next door, I'll turn my music down, please shout". And with that, the kitchen doors slammed shut again. Bonnie spun around, looking at the empty diner once again. Her heart was going a mile a minute, unable to get her thoughts in order. Everything was jumbled, and nothing was making sense while a thousand thoughts and absolutely nothing went through her brain, she was numb. She should've fought back. Protested more, but she ran like she always did. And no one would believe her, except Robert of course. Mr Mark Jefferson was a high-end, well-paid, famous teacher. And her heart shrunk into nothing because she knew no one would listen to the likes of a student who had next to no money in her name. She would get hate, from many people, and sadly, from some women as well, Bonnie wasn't stupid, she knew the way the world worked, and online? Women got a lot more hate.
It's only a tap, I just won't mention it to anyone else, and I won't make a big deal, look what happened to Kate after all. It was only a tap, I can forget about it, I can, I will. It. Was. Only. A. Tap.
She tried convincing herself.
Grabbing her cloth again, she furiously wiped the sides down, she needed a distraction, something to keep her mind off of the tap. Clean shelves, wipe sinks, clean out coffee machine, sweep the floor, mop the floor, wipe tables again, refill up all the salt and pepper shakers, wipe down the sauce bottles because Lord did, they get sticky. Refill the napkin holders. Polish the cutlery, wipe counters again and mop the floor again because she couldn't think of anything to do. She needed a distraction. She could refill the coffee machine with new beans, yes, she could do that, fill the tank with water, she could do that, that was a mindless distraction. Spray the jukebox with anti-bacterial spray, it was looking a little greasy with fingerprints recently, she could do that. She was in deep-clean mode, she needed that blissful sweet distraction, otherwise, she would think about…she would think about the eyes that looked at her. The slight groan that she heard, she knew she heard it, the fact that she was practically kneeling before him, how he looked at her damn hair. When she turned around and he–
Ring!
That was the bell to the door, signalling a customer, Bonnie's heart leapt in her throat, and whipping around, she let out a gasp of relief as she saw that it wasn't Mr Jefferson. It was a girl.
A girl with bright neon blue hair.
Holding a stack of papers.
And she looked miserable.
"Hey, uh, is Joyce in?", the girl asked, raising an eyebrow and looking around, as if expecting Joyce to pop out from behind the jukebox. Bonnie shook her head, wanting to remain quiet otherwise she would absolutely lose it, and she didn't want to lose her cool in front of a total stranger. "Okay well I thought she was here, doesn't matter, can I put these up?" she asked, waving the stack of papers in front of Bonnie's face.
"Uh, uh, sure, what, ahem, what are they exactly", Bonnie coughed, quickly wiping a remaining tear off of her face, the girl raised an eyebrow, Bonnie wished she could do such a thing as raise one eyebrow. And she knew, Bonnie knew the blue-haired girl knew she'd been crying, it wasn't exactly subtle.
"They're missing posters, my best friend, she uh, she's gone missing, hasn't called me back, and no one is searching for her, so I'm doing it myself", the blue-haired girl said, angrily, her face getting more scrunched up as she talked. Bonnie's heart leapt out for the girl, she couldn't imagine having your best friend go missing, in fact, she couldn't imagine even going missing.
"Oh, gosh, yes, of course, you can put them up, here, I'll help", Bonnie hesitantly lifted her hands up, silently asking the girl to give her some of the posters. The girl side-eyed her, before slowly placing a few posters in her hands.
"Thanks".
"I'll put one in the bathroom, and on the notice board, you could put a few up by the door, so people see them when they first walk in?", Bonnie offered, grabbing some tape that the girl had handed her, before walking off into the bathroom. This was what she needed, a distraction, a customer. Gently placing the poster up by the side of the bathroom wall, before taping it down, she looked at the details, she should actually take notice of the information about the missing girl, to be helpful.
MISSING
Missing From: Arcadia Bay
Date Missing: Monday, April 27th, 2013
OTHER:
Age: 19 years old
Height: 5"5 Weight: 110lbs
Hair: Blond Eyes: Hazel
Tattoo on the calf of a dragon and a star
on the inside of the left wrist.
RACHEL AMBER
Walking back out, she saw the girl placing the poster on the notice board, a sigh leaving her lips, her eyes constantly wondering and looking at the photo of Rachel. Bonnie carefully walked up to her.
"I'm sure we'll find her, we'll find Rachel, I'll keep a look out and talk to all the customers to see if they've seen anything", she whispered, carefully placing her hand on the girl's shoulder. The girl huffed a smile, looking at the blonde girl.
"Thanks, that's hella nice, I'm Chloe by the way", she stuck her hand out.
"I'm Bonnie", the quieter girl said, gently shaking Chloe's hand, "would you like a coffee, Chloe".
"You read my mind Bonnie", she huffed, before throwing herself onto the bar stool, taking her beanie off and shaking out her hair, as if it was irritating her, "damn it's been a long night, been putting posters up all over the damn place, some assholes are taking them down as fast as I'm putting them up" she groaned, before leaving a smile as Bonnie placed the coffee down in front of her, greedily hugging the warm mug.
"I don't understand who would do that, it's ridiculous", Bonnie muttered, who would take down missing posters? That is the complete opposite of being helpful.
"I tell you who, Blackwell assholes, I used to go there, they all suck", she scoffed, scratching her head, before taking another sip from her coffee.
"Well, not everyone is an asshole, I mean, I go there, but you are right, there are quite a few assholes at Blackwell", the blonde hummed in thought, thinking of Victoria, Courtney, Taylor, Trevor, anyone who watched KatesVid, anyone who shared it, anyone who made fun of her. She was clearly out of it! How are people not realising!
"You go to Blackwell?"
"Yeah, I do, some of the students can be uh, quite evil actually, I mean they're students".
"Have you heard of Max Caulfield? Or at least, seen her around?", Chloe's urgent question startled Bonnie, and a small niggling feeling at the back of her brain told her something, her conversation with Max, in the hallway.
"Well, I'm sorry to bore you but, well, I used to live here five years ago, I had a best friend called Chloe, and well, I haven't spoken to her in a really long time, and I was hoping to find the courage to speak to her again when I came back, but…well it's been weeks and I still haven't talked to her…"
"Wait! you're Chloe?"
"Uh, yeah?", came her confused reply, Bonnie excitedly clapped her hands.
"Oh my god, Max was literally talking about you earlier today! She said she wanted to find the courage to speak to you but she was struggling, finding it difficult and all of that", Bonnie smiled, she couldn't believe this was the Chloe that Max was talking about, with a little pushing, she could get them to meet up and hopefully cheer up Max, she had looked so sad today and it hurt Bonnie that Max was feeling like that in her first few weeks of Blackwell.
"No fucking way, you're kidding right", Bonnie shook her head, no, she was not, in fact, kidding, "well shit, I gotta go talk to her, I thought that maybe she would be ignoring me or some bullshit like that, damn", the smile that graced Chloe's face was unbelievable, something so pure that it put a smile on Bonnie's face. It was a smile of pure relief and happiness, a smile that you just couldn't get rid of. And that's what Bonnie needed. A distraction.
"Well, please, talk to her, she misses you, so much", Bonnie chirped, "she told me as much this morning".
"You know what Bonnie, I'm glad I met you today, I suppose you're not a Blackwell asshole, you're not so bad".
"Why thank you, kind stranger, how nice of you to say", the blonde chuckled, she liked Chloe, she was fun, and she could see why Max and she were good friends. Chloe reached over to check her phone, cursing herself when she saw the time, quickly rummaging around in her pockets for spare change, she came up with 86 cents.
Chuckling to herself, "it's fine, the coffee's on me, it's no bother".
"Shit man, I knew I liked you for a reason", Chloe chuckled, before leaping from her seat, "Just don't mention it to Joyce!", she shouted as she walked out the door with a skip in her step as she clutched the rest of the posters to her chest. Bonnie let out a little chuckle, Chloe was nice, she only hoped she and Max would finally sort their shit out and talk to each other, because the longer they leave it, the worse it will get, and it was a two-way street, either one of them could very easily talk to each other, they just had to bloody go for it.
Sighing again, she gave up on the cleaning, there were no customers, she had cleaned everything from top to bottom, and she had deep-cleaned as much as she could to have a distraction. And now she only had one distraction left for her.
Her sketchbook.
Grabbing it from underneath the counter, she flipped to a new page, trying to think of the words that Mrs Hack had told her earlier today, a conversation that felt like a lifetime ago.
"Don't think I haven't noticed you constantly drawing in your sketchbook, whatever gives you passion in your sketchbook I want you to emit into your coursework"
Flipping back over to her recent sketches, going over each and every page, Robert, Nathan, Joyce, Nathan, Brooke, Kate, Nathan, Nathan, Max, Nathan's hands, Joyce and Robert, Daniel, Alyssa, Nathan, Nathans's forearms and hands, Nathan, Nathan–
"Jesus, if he ever saw this, I would never hear the end of it", she muttered to herself. "Okay so Nathan is the passion that Mrs Hack wants me to put in my coursework, I can work with this", an idea formed in her head, "I just need a really big canvas", a very big canvas. If her thoughts could giggle, they would, idea after idea, overcome her. It was as if someone had unlocked the idea, that her brain was holding itself back and someone just turned the key and released the answers and ideas fully into her brain. Immediately returning to the plain page, she hastily scribbled out half sketches, notes and ideas flowing off the page, easily filling the first page, she rushed to the next one, her heart exploding as her hand wrote and drew as quickly as it could. More notes were being scribbled, ideas that she could remember for later, ones she didn't want to forget. Hastily drawing out more and more half sketches of what would eventually turn into a canvas filled with her work, work that would be entered into the Artists Hereafter Competition. Her brain was running on a high as thousands of thoughts entered her and left her and she tried to write it all down. A smile broke her face as she thought of her project, her canvas, her bloody passion, that Mrs Hack insisted she had. Her heart felt lifted, caressed, for the first time in hours, since the damn tap.
No.
She wouldn't think about it.
She looked at her pages again, her gentle hands carefully stroking the surface, as if she could pet it. She needed to buy a canvas, and a big one, a canvas so big she would probably have to order it online instead of buying one in a store, and it would be expensive too. But she didn't care, this would be her coursework, her entry for the competition, and she would do Mrs Hack proud.
"Bonnie", Robert's voice came from the kitchen, "It's 12, you're shift finished, you can go home now, I'm sorry that I kept you".
"That's okay Robert! I'll just grab my things and I'll be out of your hair", she rushed, going back over to the cloakroom, hurriedly grabbing her coat, hoping that she wouldn't lose all of her ideas by the time she got back to her dorm.
"I'll see you later Robert!"
"See you later darling!", came his distanced reply. Clutching her sketchbook to her chest, she strode towards the door, feeling uplifted, her mind had completely forgotten about the tap, her thoughts to focused on her canvas, that was, until her feet kicked some paper. Glancing down with a frown, Bonnie saw a crumpled-up piece of paper. Her heart stuttered. It was the piece of paper Robert had thrown away.
Slowly.
With a trembling hand, she picked up the piece of crinkled paper, so creased and crumpled, she was almost surprised that she could unwrap it. Carefully, she unfolded the corners, seeing words hastily written down, but in neat, ink-black cursive. She could only guess who wrote this. Unfolding one last corner she let out a gasp, she dropped the piece of paper, rushed out of the Diner, and ran. She had to leave, and go to the comfort of her dorm, the safety. She wanted to see Nathan. She wanted to get away.
And left on the Two Whales Diner floor, seemingly an innocent piece of garbage left on the floor, gently laying on the ground, a small, very crumpled piece of paper, a note. A note that made a poor girl's heart shrink in on itself.
You look so pretty with your hair down, keep it that way – MJ