“Oooh, my feet are killing me,” Cheryl said as she sank into the corner booth. “I should know better than to wear new shoes to work.”
The bell on the door jangled, spoiling her plans for a break. Worse luck, it was a bunch of kids from the high school up the street: lousy tippers. Naturally they took a table in her section.
Cheryl glanced over at the new girl, Donella. She certainly seemed fresh enough, especially considering they were at the end of an eight hour shift. Not so much as a single strand of her long, dark hair had slipped loose from her ponytail.
The teenagers were fidgeting with their menus, craning their necks to search her out. Cheryl's feet throbbed in protest and it felt like her blisters had blisters of their own.
“Donella, would you mind taking this one for me?” Cheryl asked. Donella’s cool gaze suggested this was unlikely, but Cheryl's persevered.
“Please? I’ll be your best friend…” she said in a sing-song voice, smiling winningly.
“Do you promise?” Donella asked.
Cheryl laughed. “Sure, of course. Anything for you, hon. Just don’t make me get up again, okay?”
Donella tilted her head to one side, contemplating. She studied Cheryl for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes. Alright.”
One is rarely held to a promise so lightly given. Could Cheryl be blamed for not realizing that Donella intended to hold her to her word?
Perhaps not. But already, it was too late.
The bell on the door jangled, spoiling her plans for a break. Worse luck, it was a bunch of kids from the high school up the street: lousy tippers. Naturally they took a table in her section.
Cheryl glanced over at the new girl, Donella. She certainly seemed fresh enough, especially considering they were at the end of an eight hour shift. Not so much as a single strand of her long, dark hair had slipped loose from her ponytail.
The teenagers were fidgeting with their menus, craning their necks to search her out. Cheryl's feet throbbed in protest and it felt like her blisters had blisters of their own.
“Donella, would you mind taking this one for me?” Cheryl asked. Donella’s cool gaze suggested this was unlikely, but Cheryl's persevered.
“Please? I’ll be your best friend…” she said in a sing-song voice, smiling winningly.
“Do you promise?” Donella asked.
Cheryl laughed. “Sure, of course. Anything for you, hon. Just don’t make me get up again, okay?”
Donella tilted her head to one side, contemplating. She studied Cheryl for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes. Alright.”
One is rarely held to a promise so lightly given. Could Cheryl be blamed for not realizing that Donella intended to hold her to her word?
Perhaps not. But already, it was too late.
***
Welcome to the first installment of Mostly Fiction Monday. What's that, you ask? It's a little something Stranger and I cooked up, you can find the story here. Today's post was inspired by the prompt Best Friend.
Make sure you swing by Stranger Upstairs to read another take on the prompt, and come back next Monday, when we'll be writing something inspired by The Crush.
Maybe you'd like to play too...?
6 comments:
Maybe I should check those blisters out?
smiles...hmmm....and the rest of the story?
Good, easy to visualize, succinctly-ploted and -characterized read. Enjoyed this muchly. =)
Here's my entry, No heater.
Thanks for the feedback, Me! =)
Hmm, those teens sound way too familiar. Here's hoping that Miss Perfect Hair doesn't have too many tricks up her sleave. Eep
Ooh, I want more! How can one be held to that promise, I wonder. Great stuff! Hooray, we survived week one!
Well done and an interesting twist on the theme. I knew that Donella was psycho right from the get-go. I mean, really, who can still have a perfect ponytail after an 8-hour shift? ;)
I was going to play... Maybe next week...
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