RYDER
The second I step up to the table, the noise dies down just enough to turn into full awareness. Nick leans back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Yo, s**t Monroe!” he laughs. “Didn’t think your resume would look good without busboy in it?”
I don’t react. I pull out my notepad instead. “What can I get you?”
“A quick snap of you in your little apron for my insta. Do you mind?” He is already holding up his phone taking multiple snaps. “It looks like you are finally where you belong. Look at this guys!”
“Are you ordering or what?” I ask impatiently.
Miles is the one who looks at me properly, still amused at the photo Nick is showing them. Knowing him, he already added some meme like effects to make it funnier, trying to humiliate me.
“Water, no ice,” Miles says
