Wanting Her Back

Chapter Two

MARIA

I'd hate Juan if he weren't my best friend.

He's ten minutes late and the first thing he says when he sees me is "s**t! You look awful. You don't even have any make-up on. And your hair? Your hair looks horrible".

I huff and fold my arms across my chest. " Hello to you too, Juanito".

He pauses and takes a seat across from me, staring at me like I'm some artifact in a museum. "I'm sorry, Chiquita. But I must say, you should be in a salon right now. f**k! What the hell happened to you"?

I throw him a look of annoyance and roll my eyeballs. "You're being dramatic Juan. It can't be that bad".

He furrows his eyebrows and his face falls as a look of worry washes over his face.

Fuck! Do I look that bad?

I subconsciously run my fingers through my damp hair and remember that I haven't washed it in days.

Suddenly aware of my harried state, I sit up straight, patting my hair and licking my lips, hoping that it gives it the shine that lip gloss would and I almost bite myself for not carrying one with me.

" I lost my job and I've been moping around and doing my laundry while waiting for my best friend who keeps canceling on me".

Juan reaches across the table, a look of pity in his eyes as he takes my hands in his and says, "You need to put yourself back out there, Chiquita. You need to get a job, find yourself a decent man and stop blaming yourself for what happened. "

Juan is my best friend, but he's not me, and he will never understand how much it sucks to be me. He'll never understand what it is like to be jobless, penniless, unwanted, and hopeless. The universe is flushing me down the garbage disposal, and I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to climb back out.

I think back to the incident that was the last straw that broke the camel's back that crossed my name off the payroll of the coffee shop I used to work for.

The pervy manager, Alejandro, who could not keep his hands off me, kept groping and squeezing my behind while he tried to kiss me on my lips with his dry lips. When I pointed out how dry and ugly his lips were, he chuckled and said that's why he needed my lips to help moisturize his. On the day I got fired, he had gotten handsy again, and he tried to feel up my skirt while breathing heavily on the nape of my neck. He had chosen a bad time to do that because I was peevish that morning and while his hands reached for my boobs, I reflexively hit him hard across his face causing him to reel back and fall over a customer's table, sending all the food pouring onto the customer and all over the floor.

I watched in despair as he struggled to get up from the floor, and I didn't wait for him to open his mouth and say anything before I grabbed my bag off the counter and walked out the door.

So I was not technically fired, but after that incident, I doubted that they'd still want me back, and even if Alejandro wanted me back, the customers who witnessed that episode would never want to see me around again, irrespective of whether or not what happened was my fault.

Twenty-four rejections and three dead-end waitress jobs later, I've been so miserable that I lost the confidence to apply for other jobs, living on the chicken feed that my Aunt Natalia sends every month. I've been jobless for three months, and I'm yet to see anything that motivates me to get out there and beg people to employ me.

Now, a waitress walks up to us and asks if we'd like to place an order now, thankfully interrupting what was about to be a very awkward moment.

"Por favor, tendremos tostadas," Juan says hastily to the waitress and immediately turns his attention back to me.

Then his face lits up.

" You said you had some news to tell me." There's eagerness in his eyes, and they are glistening with so much joy as he waits for me to disclose the non-existent information that I used to lure him.

Then I bend over bursting into a raucous laughter, clutching at my belly and putting my fist in my mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughter while tears fill my eyes, running down my cheeks and onto my lap.

Juan's face is now contorted in confusion, and this doesn't help matters as I burst into another fit of cackling and wheezing.

"Maria...what's wrong? Is there something on my face? Okay, I'm getting worried. " At his last statement, I manage to compose myself and wipe away my tears. "Juan, I'm sorry. I didn't have any news. " I say, feeling embarrassed at my silly joke.

His face squeezes into an unreadable expression but it disappears immediately, as he flashes me a wide grin and runs his hand through his shiny hair as the waitress picks that moment to bring the tostadas.

My stomach growls and my mouth waters at the sight of the crisp fried corn tortillas topped with beans, meat, lettuce, cheese, salsa, and other toppings I don't recognize but would eat.

"Gracias". Juan says as rubs his palms together, licking his lips and getting himself ready to devour the delicious platter before us.

We eat in silence for a while when I feel the urge to visit the restroom.

"I'm going to the restroom," I mumble as Juan snaps his head to look up at me from his food.

I make my way to the restroom and settle in an empty stall to ease myself. I hear a loud crash and I hurry up to see what must have caused the din. Getting out of the stall, I slowly look around to find the source of the noise but I see nothing so I head over to wash my hands in the sink. I feel a hand over my nose and mouth and I can't breathe and I can't see. The last thing I hear is ""Más te vale cooperar o te arrepentirás."

You better cooperate or you'll regret it.