I spot Kent immediately. He’s wearing sunglasses tonight. His hands are in his pockets and he looks kind of lost.
“Put him at table twenty-one.”
“You and him…?” She lets the suggestion hang in the air.
“No,” I mutter. “We’re just roommates.”
She laughs at me. I wonder what about. “Poor thing. Okay, I’ve got to check on my tables. Get going. Table twenty-nine looks pissed.”
Poor thing? What does that mean?
I fix my face and go and meet him, even if I would rather him not show after what happened in the kitchen this morning. My stomach knots with nerves and my mouth is dry. I’m glad he’s wearing sunglasses. Even though as I approach him I feel his eyes all over me, I pretend he can’t see me.
“Kent,” I greet him, forcing a smile out. “You’re by yourself tonight.”
He shrugs and follows me over to his table. “Zeke won’t shut up about you. And since Jake won’t go anywhere without him I’m flying solo tonight.”
“You won’t let Zeke come?” I guess, frowning as I set his menu and silverware down in front of him.
“I don’t want him looking at you all night. He’s got the creepiest stalker gaze.”
I smirk uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to give him the wrong idea or anything.”
He nods. “Don’t feel bad. Those are the girls we want. The ones who are sexy, feisty, and smart without even trying. Of course you didn’t lead him on. He’s a dumbass. Don’t worry about it. Those are the girls we lose too,” he continues gruffly, “because we’re all dumbasses, Raina. Every last one of us. We lose them to other dumbasses and those dumbasses never appreciate what they have.”
“Kent,” I say, confused by and uncomfortable with his anger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Me neither. I feel like getting shitfaced tonight. Here.” He leans over and takes his wallet out, pulling out a credit card. “Start a tab. And hook me up with one of your friends, wing-woman. I want to forget tonight.”
“Forget what?”
He removes his sunglasses, brow weighed down with something dark tonight. “No one. I want a barbecue pizza, two shots of whatever’s cheap, and a beer to start.”
I don’t mention that I asked what, not who. I simply write his order down before I can forget it, confused by the depressed air around him. “First round’s on me.” I pat his shoulder softly.
He smile is tainted in sadness. “Thank you, Raina.”
I turn around and frown to myself. He seems so different and lost tonight. I can figure out why he wants booze and women this evening. I don’t understand the true reason, the one inside of him, but sometimes the reason why you run rarely matters in the face of your pain. Getting away from it for one second is worth the exhaustion running causes you later. I can relate in that regard. But I’m an inquisitive person; my mind keeps flashing back to that beautiful girl on his mirror.
When I attempt to leave after bringing his drinks, he grabs my hand and gently pulls me back to him. “Stay and talk to me.”
“I have to work. My tables are waiting.”
“How was your day?” he asks, either not hearing me or choosing to overlook my excuse.
“Fine, I guess. How was school?”
“Boring.” He drops my hands and motions for me to sit down. When I don’t he glares at me. “I want to talk. Sit down.”
“I have to work. Look at that table. They’re probably discussing not leaving me a tip as we speak.” Kent gives them the finger and I gasp, trying to cover his hand from their sights. “Kent!”
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Kent looks up at me with raw emotion burning behind his usual cocky attitude. “Talk to me.”
“Oh, Kent.” I reach over and touch his face. “Can you wait a few while I get my tables situated?”
He rubs his face involuntarily against my palm, his stubble scraping in a way that makes me want to lean down and kiss him. I pull my hand back at the thought.
“I can wait. A few,” he warns.
As quickly as possible, I make my rounds on my tables. I dip in the kitchen and bring one table their food and then bring Kent’s over to him. He’s tapping his fingers against his beer mug, over and over again, eyes trained on some faraway thought.