SOMETHING LIKE NORMAL (Something Like Normal #1)

Four-1

I’m avoiding going out into the real world. So I’ve decided to waste some time and attempt to look semi-human.

I’ve brushed my hair, but taking a closer look at the red in it, I realize it’s time to touch up my highlights as they’re beginning to fade and look tacky.

My black jean shorts, which show off a bit of leg, are my favorite. However, I didn’t buy them for that reason. I actually bought them because if I needed to hightail it out of a sticky situation, I could run like the wind in them.

My white T-shirt sits loosely on me, and I slip on my black motorcycle boots. Again, I dress for practicality and not for style. I hide my flick knife in my right boot. Seeing as my boots are knee-high, I can conceal my weapon in them without being detected.

A girl can never be too safe in an unknown neighborhood.

After one last look in the bathroom mirror, I’m ready to go, but the question is, where?

When I left LA, I had no desire to visit anywhere in particular. So now that I’m here, I don’t know what to do.

I decide to listen to Grandpa and use the GPS to choose something for me to do.

Locking my door and shoving the keys into my pocket, it’s showtime.

Seeing Grandpa’s “Old Girl” parked out front, with the driver’s side window wound down, warms my heart.

From the condition of the faded blue Dodge pickup, I’d say it was built in the mid-eighties.

Some may see this car as a rust bucket, but to me, it screams personality and character. Looks like the Old Girl and I will get along just fine.

Arriving in downtown South Boston takes less time than originally anticipated, and funnily enough, I don’t hate what I see.

There’s an old, antique feel to the shops, but it’s also modern in what it has to offer. From services such as cardio kickboxing to yoga classes to traditional diners and a movie theater, the downtown is not what I expected.

It’s nice. And it looks safe.

Pulling into a parking space, I take in the tree-lined streets and the beautiful Victorian architecture, and suddenly, I feel my heart thump in…excitement.

I can’t believe I’m here and can’t get out of the truck soon enough. I leap out, being sure to lock it. Although looking around at the friendly, happy faces of the townsfolk, I doubt anyone would look twice if it was unlocked. I’m in awe of the high antique buildings and can’t stop looking at them.

As I walk past a florist, the fresh flowers can be smelled on the light summer breeze, and it’s a scent I haven’t smelled in, well, ever.

My mouth waters as I glance into the window of an ice cream shop. The endless flavors on display flip my stomach into a somersault, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate.

Continuing my observation and being enchanted with all there is to see, I’m thankful I ended up here. And even though I won’t be staying, it’s a nice stopover.

My nose leads me toward an old diner across the road, and when I smell waffles, my feet head there before my head has a say.

The aged light-green building has red block letters that read Bobby Joe’s. I love the fifties feel to this place, and I haven’t even stepped inside yet. A Help Wanted poster is tacked onto the front window, and I wonder if it was a coincidence I decided to eat here.

Pushing open the glass door, I’m greeted by Elvis Presley playing softly in the background. I was right. The fifties feel continues inside.

An old-school diner sign hangs above the long counter, flashing in a bright fluorescent light. Red leather booths are positioned around the diner, and stools run alongside the lengthy counter, offering patrons the chance to chat with the pretty servers behind the counter. If that doesn’t give it enough of a fifties feel, the floor is the traditional black-and-white-checkered print.

Servers walk around, happily topping up empty coffee cups with a smile. The smell of coffee has me picking up a menu by the door and heading quickly to a booth down the back.

Looking over the menu, I exhale a relieved breath when I see the affordable prices. With what little money I have leftover, I should be able to afford to eat until Grandpa pays me.

“What can I get ya?” asks a bubbly voice.

I haven’t decided what I want to eat, but I know I want coffee, and lots of it.

“Just a coffee for now, please.”

The redhead, whose name tag reads Tabitha, smiles broadly and gives me a quick nod, which results in her long ponytail bobbing up and down. She picks up the coffee cup in front of me and pours me a cup from the glass pot she’s holding.

“I haven’t seen you in here before. Are you visiting family or friends?”

I instantly shuffle in my seat uncomfortably.

“Um, neither. Just passing through,” I answer, being as vague as possible without rousing too much suspicion.

Tabitha smiles, and her face lights up instantly. “Oh, that’s what they all say, and before they know it, they’re here to stay.”

I offer her a polite nod, but my stiff upper lip exposes my uneasiness.

Tabitha reads me loud and clear, and her smile fades. “Okay, well, when you’re ready to order, please give me a holler.”

Thankfully, she strolls off when another customer raises their hand for service.

Sinking into my booth, I berate myself for being so rude to someone who was just trying to do her job. Tabitha looks similar in age to me, and I wonder if she’s working here to pay for college, or maybe she’s saving for something special.

Either way, the next time she’s over here, I’m going to try to act normal. Well, something like normal, because that’s what I want. I just want to be normal.

After looking over the menu, I decide on the waffles.

“You ready to order?” Tabitha smiles, her sparkling green eyes reflecting nothing but kindness.

“Yes, thanks. Could I have the American waffles with all the sides, except for bacon, please?”

Tabitha nods, writing it all down. “Is coffee still okay? You didn’t want any juice? Tea?”

Shaking my head, I reply, “Coffee is good, thank you.”

Tabitha places her pen and paper into the front pocket of her black apron and smiles. “Not a problem. That shouldn’t take too long.”

Before she has a chance to turn around, I quickly ask, “Um, is that job advertised in the window still available?”

Tabitha gives me a big smile. “Yes, I’m pretty sure it is. I can find out for you.”

“Only if it isn’t any trouble.”

I’m baffled at how friendly Tabitha is, but everyone in this town seems to be high on happy drugs, and for once, these are the drugs I don’t mind being around.

“Oh, no trouble at all,” she says, shyly gazing at my nose ring. “Did that hurt?” She makes a pained face.

Unable to help myself, a tiny laugh escapes me, and it actually scares me because I haven’t laughed in a long, long time.

“No, not really. I just put a bit of ice on the area to numb it and then pushed the piercing straight through.”

Tabitha’s hands fly up to her nose, and her face scrunches up in pain. “Oh my God, ouch! You’re so brave. I can’t even look at a needle without fainting.”

“It was fine. My tattoo was worse,” I answer, flipping up my wrist to show her my ink.

Tabitha’s eyes widen in shock, and her lips part in surprise. “Wow, you’re so cool.”

I don’t know how to respond because I’ve never been called cool before. Freak. Goth. Bride of Frankenstein, yes. But never cool.

“Thanks,” I reply softly and lower my eyes, unsure of what else to do.

Tabitha picks up on my discomfort. “I know cool when I see it because you know, you’re looking at the Queen of Cool.”

I know Tabitha is taking a dig at herself. I instantly jump to her defense.

“I have no doubt you’re the coolest girl in town. I mean, your hair color is amazing, as you can see,” I say, lifting a tuft of dyed red hair between my fingers. “Mine comes from a bottle, but yours is naturally awesome,” I finish, hoping she takes my comment as a compliment.

Tabitha’s eyes tear up, and something inside me warms—slightly.

“Thank you. No one has ever said that before.”

I nod like it’s no big deal.

“Oh, I’m Tabitha, by the way.”

“Paige.”

“Well, Paige, how about I stop talking and go get your waffles and a job application?”

I raise my coffee cup in salute to her. “Thanks.”

She’s back a minute later, sliding the application across the table with a smile.

While I wait for my waffles, I quickly fill it out.

I really hope I get the job, as the hours are perfect, and so is the job. It’s waiting tables in the afternoon and into the dinner rush. I could work in the morning at the motel and then grab a couple hours of sleep before starting my shift here.

Completing my form quickly, I hope skimming over some minor details won’t be an issue since I can’t exactly divulge that I’m a fugitive on the run. That thought sends a shiver down my spine, but I tell myself to breathe and not make a scene.

Totally engrossed in my own little world, I fail to notice a pair of eyes watching me closely from the booth across the aisle. As I become aware, my body demands I steal a look at the mysterious stranger.

Attempting to be subtle, I want to sneak a peek at who has my skin prickling in awareness, but it’s difficult as my neck is crooked at an odd angle, so to hell with being sneaky.

Turning to the right, I see a pair of emerald eyes set off by dark, arched eyebrows examining me closely. Suddenly wishing I’d gone about this differently, I spin away quickly while nearly gagging on my own saliva, which refuses to go down my throat.

Now I look like a total freak. I scold myself for thinking something so inconsequential. Regardless of how hot he is, I’m not here to make friends or to check anyone out, but from my glimpse, he was intoxicating.

His tousled dirty-blond hair was tumbling into his eyes, but as he brushed back his long bangs with his fingers, that intense stare almost set me on fire. He had a predominant jawline sprinkled with a light dusting of dark stubble, giving his face a hard, almost harsh look. But I like it. He looks like someone who wouldn’t put up with s**t and isn’t one to shy away from trouble.

However, it was the small, silver hoop snugly hugging his well-defined lower lip that had me fixated. He was running his straight white teeth over the piercing and tugging at it while watching me closely with those eyes.

“Here are your waffles.”

Looking up at my savior, I’m greeted by a young man, who I’d say is similar in age to me, and I can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes.

He has a lighter hair color to Mr. Emerald Eyes, and his eyes are a vivid blue. The piercing in his septum draws my eyes to the fullness of his pink lips.

I’d say he stands at over six-foot, and even though he’s slender, he’s brawny. He might appear slightly skinny to some because of his height, but I can tell that underneath that leanness is a well-toned body.

He reminds me of Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys.

I know I’m staring, but between him and Mr. Emerald Eyes, I’m at a loss for words.

“Have you finished the job application?” he asks, jutting out his chin toward the form in front of me.

“Yes,” I reply, thankful to have found my voice.

“I’m Tristan,” he says as I pass him the application.

He looks at my form and gives it a quick read, his soft eyes scanning over my info.

“And you’re…Paige. Nice to meet you, Paige,” he says, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

“Likewise. Do you have any idea when they’ll make a decision regarding the job?”

If I focus on what’s important, maybe I can forget about the two hot men I just laid my eyes upon in the span of a minute.

“Yeah. You’re hired.”

I’m slightly confused, and it shows on my face.