“Can I get those out of your way?” I asked cautiously, pointing at his empty plates.
He slid them across the table toward me. “How old are you, Zorah?”
“Twenties,” I muttered, hoping giving him something unimportant would get him to lay off. It didn’t.
“What about your parents. Are they alive?”
I froze at his question. Why would he ask that? The way he looked at me, it was as though he already knew the answers to every question he asked. Like he could see right into my head, and sense my dislike of him. Like he already knew things about me that I didn’t even know about myself.
Who the hell was this guy? Why was I suddenly ground zero for weirdness?
I tried to defuse the situation while shutting him down at the same time. “Listen, I’m not comfortable giving personal information to a man I don’t know. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Bring me an order of tiramisu, Zorah. And another drink.” He set his glass at the edge of the table.
I nodded, grabbing the dirty dishes and his glass. “Fine, I’ll bring it right out.”
As I walked back to the kitchen, I could feel him staring.
Watching.
Hours passed, and Creepy Ponytail Guy stayed.
He freaking stayed. Ordering drinks to placate management and keep from getting thrown out. The entire damn time, his stare followed me everywhere. Table to table. Floor to kitchen. It didn’t matter what I was doing—he was always watching.
Three o’clock finally came and my shift ended. I was so freaked out that I was physically shaking, too afraid to even walk to the bus stop alone. Times like this, I really wished my car wasn’t in the shop. Though to be fair, I probably wasn’t in any shape to drive safely.
I hid in the kitchen, chewing on my thumbnail, frazzled by the creeper sitting in my section. Still. Any pride I might have had was long gone as I waited for Len to finish what he was doing.
“Hey Len,” I began, a bit hesitant. “You’re off now, right?”
Len pulled the hairnet off his head, his purple fauxhawk springing to life as if it hadn’t been squashed beneath a net for hours. Len was a sweetheart under all the bad boy trappings, from what I knew of him. He’d always been nice to me, and after the scene with Jake this morning, I felt a lot more comfortable with him.
“Yeah, I’m finished here. What’s up, Zorah?” He washed his hands at the sink along the back wall, then untied the apron he was wearing and tossed it into the laundry bin a few feet away.
I was suddenly very glad he was here.
Taking a steadying breath, I said, “Would you mind driving me home? There’s this creepy guy who’s been in my section for hours now, asking me personal questions. Like, hours. Seriously. He’s still here, and frankly I’m afraid to leave alone.”
Len frowned, the ring in his eyebrow glinting. “I’d be happy to, only I didn’t drive. I live, like, four blocks down.”
“Oh.” I deflated as I peered out toward the floor.
“How’d you get here?” Len asked.
“I took the bus.” God, I was really starting to hate that damned bus.
“What happened to your car? Didn’t you have a little red Civic?”
“Transmission went out. They said it’s gonna be at least a couple thousand to fix it.” I shrugged. “I’m still figuring that out.”
He nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear you. I don’t even have a car. Fortunately, everything I need is within walking distance.” He looked at me for a minute, clearly taking note of my fear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get you home safe. Bus stop’s just a few blocks away. What about the Metro?”
I shook my head. “I have a pass, but there’s not a stop near my house, so I’ve been stuck taking the bus instead.”
“Listen, I’ll walk you to the bus stop and sit with you till it comes,” Len said. “What table’s this creep at?”
“Twenty-one.”
Len held up a finger, silently warning me to stay put as he walked to the edge of the seating area and scoped out the situation. “The blonde with the ponytail?” he asked.
I nodded. “He’s still there, then? Jesus, I’ve been off the floor for, like, twenty minutes now. I’m seriously freaking out here.” I ran my fingers through my hair, agitated. “What the fuck does he want from me?”
“I dunno, girl, but he’s on my radar now. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, Len.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Grab your shit, and let’s get you home.”
I wasted no time grabbing my backpack from my locker. Len walked me out the employee door, through the alley and down the street to the nearest bus stop, which was barely half a block away. After the short walk to the stop, we sat on the bench under the grimy shelter for about fifteen minutes waiting for the next bus.
I couldn’t keep my nerves at bay, constantly watching, expecting the creeper guy to make an appearance. Len was a solid presence at my side.
“Thanks, Len.” I stood as the bus pulled up and dug into my bag to get my bus pass, telling myself that once I was on board, I was safe. For some reason, I didn’t believe it. “I’ll... see you tomorrow?”
Len shook his head. “No, I’m coming with you. You’re about to jump out of your own skin.”
A hint of warmth blossomed in my chest. “You really don’t have to do that.”
He shook his head. “Yes, I do. I want to make sure you get home okay. I promised, remember?”
Some of the tension flowed out of me. “Thank you, Len. That means a lot to me.” I smiled. It really did.
He quirked a crooked smile in return and ushered me up the steps. “It’s no thing. Let’s just get you home.” He pulled cash out of his pocket and paid the bus fare as we got on, then walked back and sat beside me for the ride.
“Where do you live, anyway?” he asked.
“South City.
