To The Waiter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: December 12, 2011

Reads: 82

Comments: 3

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 12, 2011

A A A

A A A

 

13th December, 2009

She slept on my bed beside me that night, after running crazily around my apartment for a good hour an a half, until we were both exhausted, and I wondered if I’d made the right decision in agreeing to keep her at all. But she was too precious while she slept to even make me consider it. I made a mental note to call the vets in the morning and have her micro-chipped and sprayed. I woke in the morning with my phone flashing on the bedside table. I grabbed for it blindly and looked at the screen. A text, from Sean. I opened it.

“You're probably in bed already-” I checked the time he'd sent it; 2AM, yeah. I was in bed. “But you seemed kinda mad when you left last night, I’m sorry about the Morgan thing, if it's bothering you.”

I sighed and considered my response. “Yeah. I was in bed, but you didn't wake me. I wasn't mad, honest. I’m happy that something good came of last night.” I sent it without bothering to re-type it and set the phone down on the table again, rolling out of bed. Fiddlesticks had already woken up before me- and left her mark by the door. I grumbled, Litter tray, then vets. I scooped her up, scolded her gently for making a mess, then shuffled us out into the kitchen. With her still in one hand, and attempting to claw her way to escape I opened one of the tins and emptied the contents into a bowl. I set them both down on the floor, then watched as she tentatively edged toward the food. Satisfied that she was eating, I hurried back into the bedroom and threw on my work clothes; which consisted of a white shirt and purple tie, that I and all the other librarians had to wear. My phone bleeped, and I wondered how Sean could be awake after going to bed so late. I flipped open the text. “Well, good. And something good already came of last night before Morgan. I made a new friend, didn't I?” I smiled at the text, but then remembered what we were talking about and my smile faded, before typing

“I suppose you did.”And a smiley face. There was a hundred different things I would have been happier saying, but, again, I had to remind myself that he hadn't specifically done anything wrong. And I hadn't even liked Morgan or Sean that much in the first place.

That didn't help at all to explain why my stomach hurt.

I opened the dresser in front of me and rummaged around in the bottom to find my black converses. Surely I should have a reason for feeling this way?

I glanced around looking for a divine solution, when my eyes fell on the clock. What was I doing? It was 6AM. I didn't start work until eleven. I let my eyes fall to my phone. Well, I supposed I’d woken Sean.

Good.

Unless he was still awake from last night.

I pictured, so unintentionally, Sean stepping into his house, only to see a message on his phone. From Morgan, telling him that he couldn't bear to be away from him any longer. And Sean would reply just as desperately, telling him to come straight over. And Morgan would go, bang on the door then throw himself into Sean's arms.

The rest was history.

Of course, at 2AM, while they were both exhausted. Sean had picked up his phone and decided to shoot a text of pity to the guy he'd yanked the rug out from under. Like, 'sorry this date didn't go as planned, but at least one of us made the best of it.' And then he would turn around to his new lover and the process would start again until now, when I finally responded. He would take a short break from whatever they ere doing, just to send that text. And they were both laughing, right this second, at poor, pitiful Matt, who hadn't even managed to take his date home.

My hands tightened angrily and I sat down heavily on the bed. I raked my fingers through my hair and pulled it all forward over my stinging eyes. Feeling humiliated by my own thoughts, I tugged off my tie and threw it down onto the bed. Fiddlesticks reappeared at the doorway, and I lifted her back up onto the bed, where she curled herself up on the pillow. Eyes stinging, I took off my clothes and changed back into my pyjamas. I stormed into the bathroom and wiped my eyes. I was being so stupid. Why should I care about what they did or didn't do last night? It was none of my business. I reassured myself for what seemed like the tenth time that I didn't like Sean, because I honestly I didn't. He wasn't half as interesting as he was pretty, and I wasn't so shallow to feel jealous that one pretty boy had taken home another. And what, did I honestly think that Morgan would notice me, while I was sitting next to Sean? Stupid. Feeling like a spurned teenager, I grabbed the disinfectant spray and a roll of toilet paper to clean up the mess in the bedroom.

Carpet clean, I flushed the paper down the toilet and turned on the shower. I left the door open so I could listen for the kitten and stepped under the water. I stiffened immediately and let out a ghastly wail. I hadn't left it long enough for the water to warm up properly, so it was still bitingly cold. Cursing myself for being so easily distracted, I hopped to the edge of the shower and waited for the water to start to steam. More cautiously, I edged under the water. Trying hopelessly to stop thinking about last night.

 

Respectable, I realised now that I still had four and a half hours to kill before I had to work. I ambled back into the bedroom and considered curling back up into bed, but that would have been a waste of clean pyjamas. I could have gone without, as normal, but I wasn't alone in the house any more, and the thought was leaving me feeling more than a little exposed. So much so that I’d even gotten dressed before I’d left the bathroom, so as to spare my cat's dignity. I rubbed her head fondly and lifted her up on my palm. “You're changing my habits already, and you haven't even been here two days.”

 

19th December 2009

 

I leisurely stretched my legs on the couch and kicked one of my sister's ridiculous cushions into the air. It landed on my lap, so I picked it up to examine it. Yellow, with obnoxious and seemingly randomly placed orange stars. In stark contrast with her red walls and blue carpets. She always had a horrible taste. “Hannah...is your living room brighter than before, or s it just me?”

“Just because you live in the dark. I've seen your place. It's all beige.” She came through from the living room and handed me a mug. “Shift, you're taking up the whole settee, fatass.”

“You're one to talk.” I reached over and smacked her bottom with the pillow still in my other hand. “And, excuse me? Beige? I’ll have you know it's magnolia.”

“You're so gay.” She sighed and kicked my legs off of her sofa. She plonked down next to me and hit play on the remote for the stereo. It was half-way through a song that I vaguely recognised.

“So...” She said, tucking her legs up underneath her and taking a drink. “You never come around unless you need boyfriend advice or caring-sharing time. What are we on this time? so I know whether to bring out the tissues and ice-cream, and if we're watching Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles.”

“Give me your ice-cream, then we'll talk.”

Ben and Jerry's can do a better job of loosening a tongue than any alcohol I know. She tossed me a tub of Cookie Dough and narrowly avoided hitting e on the head with the spoon. “So?”

“I suppose it's caring-sharing.” I said, popping the lid and digging in impatiently.

“Excellent. I love Sixteen Candles.” She grinned and nudged me. “So, big sis.” I glared at her. She just continued to smile. “What are we sharing?”

I told her about last week, the non-date and everything that went along with it, to which she replied with just the right amount of gasps and cries of “What?! What a dick!” at all the appropriate moments. I told her about how I’d felt afterwards, too. There was no one on this earth that I trusted more than Hannah. She was the first person I officially came out to, though she told me she'd always known anyway. Which was, needless to say, a bit of a relief.

“Matty. Neither of them are worth it.” She sighed, when I finished speaking. I stuck my spoon violently into the ice-cream a few times.

“Yeah...I know...”

“Have you spoken to the Sean guy since?”

“I've been texting him all week.” I was weak, and my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I’d been asking him about his plans with Morgan since Wednesday. The were going to the cinema tonight, then to a club. Not my idea of a romantic first date, but if I was a waiter, a restaurant wouldn't have been my first choice either.

“What is going on with me?” I asked, hugging the cushion.

“Sounds like you're jealous, Matty.” Hannah sighed

“But I don't like Sean-”

“No. Not because you like Sean. You liked that Morgan guy, didn't you?”

Well, that certainly caught me off guard. Was that it? Was I angry with Sean because Morgan had wanted him and not me? I blinked twice before stumbling “I-” My phone, by the mercy of anything good and holy, bleeped in my pocket. “One second.” I yanked it out, a text from Sean.

“Is that Sean?” Hannah asked over the tub of ice-cream. I nodded, and the phone disappeared from my hand before I could even open it.

“Sure...Go ahead and read it.” I rolled my eyes.

She scoffed, and then proceeded to read out the text. “This isn't going well. Apparently It's not all about a pretty face.”

I frowned and took the phone back off of her. So they weren't getting along. That wasn't a good thing, so why did I feel so relieved. “Hannah.” I closed the text message and set the phone down. “I think you might have a point.”

“Great. Now that you've had your epiphany, can we watch The Breakfast Club?

 

My phone rang while I was was walking home. I checked the screen and sighed “Hello?”

“Hey, Matt? Didn't you get my text earlier?”

“Yeah, I did, sorry, I was in the middle of a thing. I just left, actually. How was your date?”

“Don't even get me started. He barely looked at me the whole time, The conversation was completely flat, and, oh yeah, every single time we actually managed to get into a decent conversation, he somehow managed to turn it around to be talking about you.”

“Me?”

“You!”

“But we've never even spoken outside of my poor Italian.”

“You obviously made an impression. Every second sentence! 'So, you like horror films, does Matt?'”

“Oh...I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Well...Where are you now?”

“In the toilets looking for an excuse to escape. The guy doesn't seem like he understands that the date is going badly. It's like he only has one braincell, and he only uses it half the time!”

“Well...”

“Come rescue me?”

“What?”

“Come down here! Tell him that you've dramatically changed your mind about me and want to come sweep me off my feet!”

I glanced down at my watch, it wasn't late, and I wast tempted to make him suffer.

“Please?” he whined pitifully

“Are you serious?”

“Completely! Please!”

“...Alright?”

“Really?! You'll come?”

“I suppose...What club are you at?”

He told me the name. It was less than a drive away from me now. “Fine! But you're giving me the money back for my entrance fee!”

“You're a life saver! Be my wing-man more often?”

“Like fuck will I.”

“See you in a few!”

The line went dead, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea what I was supposed to say. Completely ignoring this screaming lack of good judgement. I swivelled on the spot and headed in the direction of the club. Luckily, I’d decided against wearing my jogging bottoms and sweat-shirt today. I ruffled my hair and wished I’d made more of an effort on it than just leaving it as I had done.

There was no one queuing for the club when I walked toward it. Thanking the lord for sweet mercy, I shuffled past the doorman and up to the register to pay the fee. They were apparently at the bar just past the dancefloor, so I shuffled through to the densely packed, smoky and loud room just off the corridor. I glanced toward the bar, and saw an especially awkward looking Sean and a-

Well, Morgan looked good.

If he'd been attractive at the restaurant, then he was stunning now. Even Sean didn't compare anymore. His blonde hair was sitting perfectly, his shirt was cut just so that it would show off his long arms and broad shoulders. And his jeans were probably too skinny for his age, but it didn't matter, because he looked fantastic. My hand raised self-conciously to my own hair and tried to tame it a little. Sean saw me and the look of relief the spread across his face was unmistakeable. I swallowed audibly and crossed the dancefloor toward them.

“Uh, Matt?” Sean said in a monotone. What a terrible actor. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh...” Morgan's head had shot around at Sean's words and the sound of my voice. I noticed for the first time that Sean was ever so slightly shorter than me, but Morgan was ever so slightly taller. I wasn't entirely sure why I noticed this. “I think i've made a mistake.”

Morgan frowned. “Am I missing something here?”

“I uh...I think I may be in love with Sean and so...So you have to let him go. With me. Now.” I wasn't doing too well, probably because I’d noticed how close I was standing to Morgan now, how his fingers were almost brushing my upper leg. Sean's had made a very loud slap against his forehead.

“I'm going to the bathrooms.” Sean rushed, brushing past us both “Don't-don't follow me...”

and he was gone, lost in the sea of bodies, and I doubted that he was coming back. Arsehole. He really dropped me in it. Last time I do a guy a favour.

Morgan rounded on me “Explain. Now.”

“There's n-nothing to explain...The heart wants what the heart w-”

“Don't bullshit me, doll. Because your face is awful pretty and it would be a shame if I had to punch it.” I barely noticed the threat, had he just called me pretty? My heart was sledgehammering in my ears.

“He...He called me. Okay? He called me and said that he needed an excuse to escape. He told me to come down but I’m just...Just a really bad actor.”

“You're telling me.” He sighed. “Sean, wasn't wrong...mainly because I haven't stopped thinking about you since...well, since last week.”

“Funny you should mention that. Ditto.”

His face softened, “You're blushing.”

“I'm pretty sure I do that a lot...” I looked down at my toes and shuffled awkwardly. Make an excuse to leave, Matty...get out before you act like a complete idiot. There was a sudden warmth, a pressure underneath my chin, and it was a few seconds before I realised it was his fingers. He lifted my face to look me in the eye. I must have been crimson, but he just seemed to find it hilarious. He tilted his head slightly and fixed me with a smile that would put a dentist to shame, and then brought his lips softly to my cheek. Brushing them along until they reached my ear. “Hi.”

“Hello.” I stuttered into his own ear. I felt him smile against my skin.

“You wanna dance?”

“Yes.” I replied without hesitating. “Yeah...I do.”

 

24th December 2009

My kitchen suddenly seemed enormous as I leant against him, “Are you sure?” His voice was low, melodic. A voice I could never stop wanting to hear.

“I don't think i've ever wanted anything so much in my entire existence.” I leaned in to kiss him, and his arms circled around my waist.

“What about when Mario Kart came out?” He smiled into my lips. And I sighed.

“Stop trying to bring out my inner geek...” he raised an eyebrow at me. I felt a wonderful tickle in every finger and toe that after only knowing me for the best part of a week, he already knew what I was into. “Well...Maybe the wanting is equal, but that was then, this is now. Now will you just-”

But his mouth clamped down firmly against mine, and suddenly my hands were fluttering, not knowing where to place them, until one of his hands loosened from my waist- leaving the other to pull me in even tighter- and threaded its fingers through mine. My other hand found its place aginst his hip as our lips moved faster and his hand around my waist moved to the waistband of my jeans, tugging the belt slightly. My hands tightened on his hip because I had no idea what to do. But then his kisses moved from my mouth to my neck and I melted, softened against him. He wrapped legs around my ankles and walked us backwards slowly toward the table. I don't think we was aware of it until-

“Morgan! Watch the-”

Too late, he had me pressed up against the table. At first, there was just a cold squelch against my back. But then the platter clattered to the floor and he drew his face away from my neck.

“What was-”

“...Cheesecake.” I sighed. His hand clamped over his mouth with what I thought was shock. Then I looked at him properly and saw him shaking with giggles. There was no trace of remorse on his face as he buried it into my shoulder to laugh heartily at my expense. He couldn't even apologise because of his laughter. His fists twisted into my teeshirt as he rocked with laughter.

“Alright...It wasn't that funny...”

“You...You just sat on a cheesecake.”

“It was more 'was forced onto' a cheesecake.”

This just sent him into a new round of giggles, but softer as he lifted his head on my shoulder and looked me in the face. His cheeks were remarkably rosy for the laughter and his eyes had teared up. He kissed me softly on the lips, still chuckling softly. “Are you mad?”

“No.” I sighed. But I smiled. He didn't seem to realise that being mad at him was totally impossible.

The cat appeared around the back of the table, She rubbed her tiny body against my ankles and hissed at Morgan. “But...No guarantees about her.”

His hands went to the back of my neck and pulled me down for a firmer kiss. I wrapped my arms around his waist. Too early for me, our lips broke apart.

He smiled at me, and barely audibly whispered “Merry Christmas, Matt.”

And I smiled right back, because I didn't think I had ever been happier. “Merry Christmas, Morgan.”

~~~Fin~~~


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