Welcome to the Grind

          The first half of Tuesday went by in a haze.

         I tried to concentrate with a each of my tutors, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Dominic or work at the diner tonight. I couldn’t stop shuddering at how embarrassing Mom’s comments about him were, either.

         For an hour, every time I’d tried to dodge the subject, she’d just ask another question about him or throw out another comment. How dreamy he is. How he has a cute butt. Does he work with me? Are we going to date?

         I thought I was going to kill over.

         Like I said, she and Izzy have always gotten along.

         She was acting like I’m in love with the guy, but I’m thinking she’s got a little crush, herself. I’m not the only one with eyes. Even Izzy would have to admit he’s gorgeous if I pressed her hard enough.

         I tried to tell Mom how Izzy had said he was a loner at school. How I wanted to be his friend, but she’d said things like, “No one that beautiful is a reject unless they want to be,” and, “I can’t see many girls wanting to be ‘just’ friends with that kid, Kid.”

         Eventually, she’d let up, and we had a nice time shopping for my shoes, but Mom’s persistent teasing had been exasperating. I’d hoped that my run this afternoon would get out some of my nervous energy, but it only seemed to make me more hyper.

         By the time Dexter showed up, I was thoroughly looking forward to my first shift tonight, and my stomach was thoroughly tied up in knots.

         I don’t think Dex noticed. He’d seemed excited about something when he arrived.

         After we’d gotten through a quick history lesson on the various symbolisms of Egyptian pottery and sculpture, I found out why.

​

         He went to his car and came back with an easel and a folded tarp.

         Dexter didn’t say it, but I figured out that he hadn’t brought them in right away because he’d wanted to surprise me. His thoughtfulness and excitement moved me, helping to thin some of the fog in front of my eyes.

         I help him set up the tarp. It used to be white, or maybe a tan color, but now it’s totally coated in paint, and way bigger than I’d thought!

         When we unfold it together, it takes up more than half the room.

         He instructs me to make sure I cover the walls behind the easel with it, too. We accomplish this by pinning different parts behind or over different objects in the space.

         Finally, he stands up the easel, and reveals a canvas from his book bag. It’s painted a solid gray-blue color.

         “Are you ever going to tell me what this is about?” I asked. I’m excited. I don’t try to keep myself from smiling.

         He sets the canvas on the easel. “We’re going to throw paint at it. It’s…therapeutic.”

         When he turns to me, the look in his eyes is wildly mischievous.

         I laugh. “Are you in need of therapy, Dex? Should I have let you in here, after all?” I’m joking.

         He knows it. “’Dex’?” He looks satisfied, but, with that same mischief in his eyes. He continues with even more energy than he had a second ago.              “Oh come on, Jin! You can’t tell me flinging paint around doesn’t sound like any fun. Wait!” He proclaimed, freezing like he’s just remembered something. “I need to make another trip to my car. Be right back.”

         Aaaaand he’s gone…

         When he comes back, his arms are full of more supplies. A jar-full of different kinds of paintbrushes and sponges with handles; a box containing messy bottles of acrylic paint, and two folded bundles I don’t recognize until he hands me one of them.

         I spread it out in front of me. It’s a white, full-body suit, which makes me laugh even harder.

         “What?” he pried innocently, grinning. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your clothes, especially if I decide to make you my target. Now put it on!”

         It wasn't a request, but he phrased it like one.

         I watch him for a moment, twisting up my lips to fake indecision, and then I’m on it.

         “Okay,” I contended, and negotiate, “but I get to choose the music.

         He laughs. “This time.”

         We had a blast.

         I put on Bruno Mars and Billie Eilish and turned the speakers up as loud as they could go.

         We looked absolutely ridiculous in our getups, which totally added to the fun.

         We’d done a good enough job at setting up the tarp that we didn’t end up getting paint on anything except for what we wanted to get it on, including each other.

         I was oddly thrilled by how the paint came off of different brushes and how throwing my arm different ways created different effects. At first, most of my colors came off in globs that ended up creating an almost bud-and-stem look. With some practice, I learned that the smaller, thinner brushes create high-spatter streaks and swirls. Putting two colors on the same brush wound them together like a helix, or Beetlejuice’s stripes.

         It was, I had to admit, unbelievably therapeutic. It was also a better workout then I would have guessed. I had to stop and run to gulp down some juice.

         When we got back to it, I forgot again all about the rest of the world.

         By the time I thought to glance at the clock, the canvas was satisfactorily splattered with all different angles and colors of paint. It worked out for me that my first tries had come away in globs, since the stringier splashes crisscrossed them. It looked really cool.

         Dex and I were like walking art in the suits that had been white less than an hour ago, and, if I didn’t hurry, I was going to be late for my first shift at the diner. Not only had I forgotten the world. I’d completely and utterly lost track of time.

         “Ut-oh!” I’m in such a good mood I practically sung the syllables.

         When Dex turns to acknowledge me, I’m already taking off my Picasso HAZMAT suit.

         “What’s up?”

         “The clock!” I shout over the music unclearly, pointing at the time’ as I try not to trip out of the ensemble. “I’d love to keep going, Dex, but I need to get ready for work. I start at Sherry’s Diner tonight. I can’t be late for my first shift.” I get to the Echo, and pause Billie mid-beat, just on time for him to speak louder than is suddenly necessary.

         “Work at Sherry’s?” he cried. We both laugh, and then he continues at a normal volume. “I’ve never been there… Maybe I’ll drop by sometime.”                  “Seriously? You definitely should. Sherry’s has got the best comfort food in town.”

         I look to the tarp as he starts shrugging out of his suit, smearing some of the paint as he does.

         “Sounds like a plan. Let’s get this out of the way for your other tutors tomorrow, and then I’ll take off.”

         Working together carefully, we get the tarp folded up around the suits, but leave the easel and the canvas, now painted by our shared masterpiece.

         “That’s going to need some time to dry,” Dex pointed out. “I’ll pick up the easel tomorrow, but the painting’s yours, if you want it.”

         “Are you kidding?” I can’t contain my joy. “Of course I want it! It’s beautiful! We both have to sign it tomorrow, though… Will it be dry by then?”

         “Should be,” he answered chipperly. Then, Dexter pauses to smile at me. “That was fun, Jin. I’m looking forward to more over the week.”

         I stare at him. “Thank you, Dex… I…didn’t know I needed that.”

         “I’m glad you liked it…”

         He watches me, and the way he watches me makes me think of Dominic.

         Suddenly, I’m breathless. I look away.

         “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jin…”

         He keeps saying my name.

         For the first time, I think I see something shy or uncertain in his eyes when they meet mine. He grins, almost sheepishly, and then grabs his book bag, slings it over a broad shoulder, and walks out the door.

         Sherry had me shadow her that first evening at the diner.

         She gave me my own booklet, pen, and paper pad, but I didn’t end up needing it this time. Sherry was more concerned with my listening to how she talks to customers and takes orders, and learning my way around the menu, kitchen and sections. She wanted me to see how things work behind the scenes. Keeping up with her was the hardest part about it.

         The diner was busier than I expected for a Tuesday. I barely got to meet any of the other employees. The only one I was interested in was Dominic, but I was busy training, and he was busy bussing. We didn’t have any time to mingle.

         Even so, every now and again, we’d catch a glance from one another.

         Things didn’t slow down for almost four hours. Gotta love tourism, or passer-throughs…

         When patrons started to trickle out in groups of twos and fours, and Sherry’s Diner got a little quieter, she asked me if I wanted to take my break.

         I’m happy to concede. I need to check my sugars and get some soda in me or something before I finish up my last hour.

         I grab some Doctor Pepper from the machine, and head to one of the smaller, empty booths on the east side of the restaurant, where I can keep an eye on the clock.

         I’d just finished checking my sugars and putting my meter back in my bag when a voice that is quickly becoming familiar speaks next to me.

         “May I join you?”

         When I look up and see Dominic, I about choke on the carbonated sip of DP I’m swallowing.

         He’s smiling down at me. I’m determined to contain myself, and to think before I speak this time… But my heart starts to race. How can he look so good after being at work all day?

         “Go ahead,” I answered. I’m proud at how efficiently I said it.

         He moves with that unnatural grace. Before I know, he’s sitting across from me.

         “Have you put an order in yet? You should eat something…”

         “Do I look pale, or what?” I asked suspiciously.

         His smile broadens into that white, stupefying grin. He’s wickedly striking.

         “No, you look good…but you’ve been on your feet for awhile.”

         He said I look good… How should I take that? I decide to sweep off the remark. I concentrate on what he’d said first.

         “What do you mean ‘have I put an order in’?”

         “Jason, the cook, will be happy to make you something. What do you want?”

         The question sets me back, but I remind myself again not to sound like a bumbling idiot. “I…guess I could go for some onion rings?”

         He seems content with my willingness to tell him. In a minute, he’s on his feet again – headed toward the kitchen.

         I guess the diner really is finally slow, because I’d thought he was just putting the order in, but he came back much quicker than I expected.

         He places my plate of onion rings in front of me, and slips back into the seat in front of me with his small bowl of fruit.

         I twitch, feeling somewhat inferior with my deep-fried heart attack food…but I’m not about to order a salad. That’s one sacrifice I can’t make.

         He starts speaking again, and the whole world falls away. I don’t even notice Megan, one of the other waitresses, glaring at us as she moves to one of her tables.

         “I got you five different kinds of sauces,” Dominic informs. “I didn’t know what kind you like, but the two white ones are blue cheese and ranch.”

         I wonder if maybe he thinks I’m a slob. The smell in front of me makes my stomach churn, and suddenly I don’t care.

         “Thanks,” I offer gratefully. “That was really nice of you…and Jason, I guess.”

         “Jason’s a great cook—” he catches himself. The partial smile he grows turns me to putty. I look away. “—But you already know that… So, how’s your first shift going? Do you think you’re going to like working here?”

         I ate every single onion ring, and we spent our whole break talking.

         If he noticed when I took my insulin, he didn’t say anything about it.

         We talked about the diner, and New Orleans. He told me he’d spent several years there, and that it was one of his favorite cities along the Gulf Coast. So, for a while we talked about travel.

          It sounded like he’d seen a very decent portion of Earth, which completely intrigued me. I’ve always wanted to see the world.

          I tried to ask him for details about how and why he’d moved around so much, but he almost seemed evasive. No… He definitely seemed evasive.

         Once my interest had kicked in and I’d started asking questions, he kept the subject firmly on me.

         Where do I want to go? How long have I been interested in travel? Have I ever been on a plane, or a boat?

         Then he stealthily redirected the topic to books and music.

         I’m surprised at how much we have in common.

         He likes the older genres too, and even named some musicians and authors I’d never heard of; I wrote them down on the pad Sherry had given me, sure she wouldn’t mind. I found out that the black motorcycle with painted wings I keep seeing in the parking lot is his. I should have put that together when I saw the helmet under his arm yesterday. I commented on how my mom would kill me if I ever got on a bike like that.

         “I bet it can be pretty exciting, riding that thing on twisting roads,” I appended.

         “…Maybe I’ll show you how exciting, sometime… And your mom won’t have to worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

         That makes me pause. I can’t stop the natural sarcasm that retorts in my head.

         It’s hard to imagine that even Dominic Spencer could do something to save me if we hit gravel and I got yeeted into oncoming traffic. Skidding across the asphalt – turning into cottage cheese along the way.

         I don’t say this out loud, of course, because my other response is absolute bliss. In an instant, I feel a wave of moron coming on.

         For once, I’m grateful that I’m speechless.

         He watches me, but doesn’t let too much silence pass.

         “I wonder what else we have in common.” He pondered, almost to himself, but those green eyes don’t leave mine.

         He’s looking at me like I’m something he wants to understand. It’s making my face feel hot again. I wet my lips to speak, but when I open my mouth, another voice comes out.

         “Jin, is it? Isn’t your break over?”

         I look to my right and see the other waitress, Megan, standing there.

         As my gaze shoots to the clock, I forget about her, the unsolicited annoyance in her voice, and the scornful look on her face.

         “Drat!” I mumbled.

         I get up quickly, grabbing the cup that had previously held my DP, along with my empty plate of onion rings. I don’t know what to say to Dominic. He’s already standing again as well. I smile at him to give myself some time. I don’t have to try to sound coy.

         “Thanks for eating with me… It was really nice.” I wish I could stay at the table with him.

         His smile makes my face look like Salad Fingers. As he moves by me, casually taking the plate and cup from my hands, he leans to whisper near my ear.

         “Let’s do it again soon.”

         I could scream with joy. For the first time, I reach for the Android in my pocket. I type the text faster than I thought was possible on these tiny keyboards, and hit send.

         “IZZY! We have to talk tonight! Can I call you when I get home from the diner?”

         It hits me that maybe I shouldn’t share this excitement with anyone yet. I don’t know if I want to share it with anyone…but I also feel like I’m going to combust if I don’t.

         My last hour, I follow Sherry around with a spring in my step. It’s a good thing she’s always distracted – always moving around, or I think she’d notice.

         We attend to a few more tables, and she even has me bring the food out to a few of them. After that, she shows me how to roll silverware.

         When it’s time to go, I step outside and stop, peering out at the darkness throughout the parking lot. I hadn’t thought to park closer.

         There are two streetlights on the way to my vehicle. The glow they project onto the asphalt just deepens the shadows beyond them.

         I take a deep breath. My keys are in my hand. Paranoid, I put one of them between my fingers, the way Mom taught me, and then I practically sprint to my car.

         Inside, I lock the doors and fumble. The engine hums to life.

         When I look up, I freeze.

         Dominic is standing at the front of the diner, his hands tucked into his black apron. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s watching my car…

         Watching me…

         A swell of excitement rises in my throat. He’d said, earlier, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Can he be making sure I’m safe?

         My ride home is short, but it’s long enough for my mind to start racing… Questioning. Why is Dominic Spencer talking to me? Even more mysterious, why does he seem interested in me when he obviously has a lot more exciting things to talk about than I do? His league and mine wouldn’t even recognize each other if they happened to cross… So…why?

         By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m woefully convinced that I’m reading into this way too much. I need to get control of myself. Dominic needs a friend. That’s why he’s interested.

         I look at my phone and realize I forgot to turn the volume back on when I left. I have two messages from Izzy. The first reads,

         “YES!” and the second one, which she sent about five minutes ago, says, “Call me! Call me! Call me!”

         I smile to myself. She knew I’d be getting home soon. I’m attacked by a rush of appreciation for my friend.

         She answers on the second ring.

         “Dudette! How was work?”

         “It was really good!” I told her, locking the front door behind me, and sprinting straight upstairs. I’m about to start telling her about it, but she cuts in.

         “Okay…so, I know you aren’t interested in dating anyone, but Adam won’t stop asking about you. He wants me to ask you if you’re ever going to call him?”

         Oh yeah. Adam. If groans could kill… The one I let out is quiet, though. Izzy doesn’t hear it.

         “Do you have any interest in him at all?”

         “If I did, I’d call him.” I throw my bag on my bed, switch on my lamps, and close my curtains before I take a seat in the rocking chair by the biggest window.

         “He thinks that maybe you’re playing it cool,” she told me. “If you don’t like him, why’d you give him your number?”

         “Because I felt bad… He seems all right, but you know how I feel. Maybe he and I can just be friends.”

         “Well, maybe you should tell him that, because whatever you put in the love potion you gave him is driving Tommy crazy. ‘Says they can’t talk shop anymore.”

         I laugh almost bitterly. Love potion? Because I always brew those up for guys I have no interest in.

         “Yeah, I will,” I assured her.

         She lets a breath out through her nose, but I hear the smirk in her voice. “Okay… So, what are you doing tonight?”

         “Going to bed.” I stated obviously, humorously. “Why? You hitting the clubs or something?” Sarcasm.

         Izzy giggles. “Chillin’ on my bed not wanting to take a shower because it means going to bed and then school in the morning. Help me procrastinate… How’s the home-school life? Why did you text me so urgently earlier?”

         I can’t contain myself anymore.

         “Izzy?”

         “Jin?”

         “Dominic Spensor ate dinner with me tonight!”

         I hear the indignation in her voice. “Seriously? But I thought you were working tonight…”

         “I was. He took break with me. I don’t get it, Izz’. Why do you think he’s talking to me?”

         There’s a thoughtful pause on the other line before she answers. “I mean… Jin, you’re amazing, but honestly I don’t know. I told you I’ve never seen him talk to anyone at school before unless he has to. He flutters around like he’s too good for any of us.”

         “Maybe he’s just trying to be polite. I mean, we do work together now…”

         “Maybe,” she acceded. “So…what did you two talk about?”

         I tell her the few things he told me, and about the authors and music artists we’d discussed. By the time I’m almost finished explaining, I don’t notice how excited I sound, or how fast I’m talking.

         “I saw him in front of the diner when I left… I think he might have been watching to make sure I got to my car okay. Izzy…he’s…incredible. He’s so much more than gorgeous. Looks fade, but he’s smart, and cultured, and he keeps making me laugh. I don’t even think he has to try.”

         The line is silent for so long, I say her name.

         “Izzy?”

         “…It sounds like you’re in love with him.”

         “What?” I practically bark. “That’s crazy! You know how I feel about dating, and you know me. I just want to get to know him. What Dominic and I have is new friendship. I think he’s lonely and oh my gosh I’m falling in love with him…” She’s right. I am every bit as surprised by myself as she seems to be, but I can’t imagine why she’s surprised. She’s seen him. Talking to him, though…that’s on a Cloud Nine kind of level.

         I’d half expected her to laugh at me. She’s quiet again. I’m confused.

         Does she really hate him that much?

         This time I don’t have to make sure the call didn’t disconnect.

         “Look…you’re my best friend. I know how great you are. Any guy would be lucky to have you, and I’m glad you’re actually feeling something for someone, I really am…but…”

         “What?” Something about how serious she sounded makes me anxious.

         “I didn’t tell you this, because I know how you feel about Jacquie Barton, but… Apparently he took her out once. She says he drove them to some creepy, deserted warehouses. He wanted her to do…things. She says she had to threaten to call the cops on him to get him to take her home. She thinks he’s a psycho or something.”

         I feel sick, but not for the reason I should…

         Yeah. I know Jacquie Barton. She made my life miserable when we first moved to Coupeville. She had a lot to do with my decision to be home-schooled. She always used to lie about me to everyone she could. I never knew everything she said, but it had resulted in everyone except Izzy avoiding me, or worse.

         I remind Izzy of this fact.

         “It’s been a long time since seventh grade, Jin,” she stated hesitantly. “She’s not the same person anymore. She’s grown. You—“

         I already know exactly what she’s going to say. “I’d know that if I went back to school… So…you two are friends now?”

         “It’s not like we’re shopping for the latest trends together or anything. I wouldn’t call her a friend. She runs with the same crowd as me. That’s all. I can see how she’s changed.”

         “And you believe her? About Dominic?” Now the topic of my concern is shifting somewhat. I hold my breath.

         “Yeah—” I can tell she’s a little put off. “—Look, all I’m saying is be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I love you.”

         That pacifies me a little.

         “I love you too, Izzy. I know you always have my back…” I really do, which doesn’t make this any easier. I feel the familiar sting of tears in my eyes.

         Could it be true? Could Dominic be trying to use me? It’s hard to think that the guy I’d had dinner with tonight is capable of something like that. Then again, he has to know how beautiful he is… What if he uses that to get what he wants? I hadn’t seen him talking to anyone else at the diner… Is he targeting me? I especially dislike that last thought, but those weren’t my only concerns. Now that I know I’m starting to catch feelings for him, I can deal with my denial accordingly.

         Either I need to admit it to myself, put all of my plans at risk…put what Izzy had told me aside…or, I need to keep my distance from him. Not just because of what Izzy told me, but because I’ve worked too hard to miss my chance to go to a good college because of some guy. I remind myself that, whatever the truth about Jacquie Barton is, Dominic probably doesn’t feel the same way about me as I’ve just discovered I feel about him. Which means…it doesn’t matter, anyway…

         Izzy and I talked awhile longer, but my thinking had dampened my mood more than what she’d said

         If I’m honest with myself, I’m feeling betrayed by Izzy. She knew firsthand how mean Jacquie had been to me in seventh grade… I wanted to give Izzy the benefit of the doubt, but it still hurts that she and Jacquie are hanging out. Maybe what she said was true. Maybe Jacquie really has turned over a new leaf. Be that as it may, I went to bed sulking.

         I didn’t have any nightmares, but I couldn’t sleep well.

         Wednesday, Dexter brought a pottery wheel and some clay, which we worked on outside.

         October has been warm this year, and I was glad to get more sunshine after my run. It was a lot of fun. I’m finding that time with Dex always goes too fast because I enjoy his company, but I was still in a funk from last night. I kept massacring every blob of clay I got started on the wheel. Dex made me laugh a few times over it. That helped…

         I wasn’t sure how to act at work, or around Dominic anymore. I hated the butterflies that filled my stomach and the delight that filled my heart when I saw him. I both hated and was grateful that Wednesday was even busier than yesterday. I wanted to avoid him, and never let him out of my sights. The uncertainty was killing me.

         He finished bussing his tables on time to take his break at the same time I do. Part of me had hoped he wouldn’t ask to sit with me again. When he did, I couldn’t bring myself to say no to him. I tried to act natural, but I think he could tell I was off. I told him honestly that I hadn’t slept well last night.

         He got us food. I had mozzarella sticks, but barely touched them.

         He tried to ask me again what was wrong. He seemed genuinely worried about me, and I almost asked him about Jacquie, but chickened out.

         Trying to make conversation, or maybe still sensing something was off, Dominic asked me why I didn’t go to Coupeville High with Izzy and him.

          I told him a half-truth. “I get anxious around a lot of other people.”

         After considering this, he asks,

         “Do you ever think you might be missing out on the whole experience?”

         “Sometimes…” I answered honestly. “But I do plan on going to college.”

         “What college do you want to go to?”

         “My first choice is Harvard…”

         “And the second?”

         “Yale…” He’s getting me to open up again. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “How old are you, anyway?” I pressed. I’ve been wondering for a while.

         “Seventeen,” he revealed freely.

         “Oh… You act older…” I admitted.

         He looks like he’s going to say or ask something, but I glance at the clock. My break is already over, which I let him know.

         As he and I get up, he reaches to touch my hand. It looks like he thinks better of doing that. Instead, he takes my plate and cup again. I let him. All Dominic has to do to stop me in my tracks; is look at me.

         “Whatever is bothering you, Jin, I hope you know you can talk to me. You can tell me anything. I promise.”

         The guarded smile he gives me reaches his eyes. I feel that gush of glee, and have to catch my breath and myself before I get into more trouble.

         “I know,” I lied, summoning my sweetest smile so that I don’t hurt his feelings when I force myself to turn, and walk back into the kitchen to find Sherry.

         When I leave after my shift, I hold my keys a little tighter as I rush to my car.

         I check the front of the diner, and see he’s standing there again, watching me. The next thought frightens me.

         With him there, do I need my keys as a weapon at all? …Or am I actually holding them tighter because of him? A shiver runs the length of my spine. It has nothing to do with the chill in the air.

         That night, I had another nightmare…