FicWad

"So then Patrick says to her, 'Do you want my nuts?'"

I rolled my eyes and took a drink of my diet Coke, staring around at the table who was halfway drunk: Patrick, the bill of his plain blue baseball hat tilted over one eye (not a fashion statement, by the way); Pete, telling a story about when they were flying back to Chicago with facial expressions; Andy, glued to his SideKick, a funny grin on his face; Joe, looking like always and ripping some meat off of a chicken wing; and Will, looking as though he were having the time of his life.

Only I seemed to be missing out on all the......../fun./

So when we'd walked in and sat down, I was pretty much speechless. Pete looked more beautiful than the last time I'd seen him those few weeks ago. His eyes avoided mine, and I felt like sobbing hysterically. Only Joe met my gaze dead-on (the other guys said hey) and patted the seat next to him. I sat down uncomfortably and Will took the seat across from me.

We'd already been through two things of fries as appetizers and about forty wings. I was ready to leave, since it had been about two hours and it was almost five, but Will was my ride and it didn't appear to be working in my favor.

"What did she say?" Will asked, laughing like there was no tomorrow to laugh at.

"'No, thanks,'" Andy quoted in an abnormally high voice as Patrick turned beet-red.

"I didn't even mean it like that!" he claimed. "I didn't want my peanuts!"

Even I giggled a little at his facial expression. He smiled at me and I smiled back, but his smile was sympathetic, as mine was small.

Will glanced at me. We hadn't even talked about my job, or non-job for the moment.

"So, made up your mind?" Joe asked, nudging my side. I glared at him and hugged myself.

"I'm not going to work for you, Will, I start school in a week."

"So? College kids would DIE for this job. You'd be the hot snot, or whatever," Andy stated, putting away his SK3.

"You would," Patrick included. I didn't know why they were all ganging up on me to be bargirl again-it was just plain bizzarre and unwanted.

I looked at Pete, who looked away.

I felt like crying again.

Will shot me a pair of puppy dog eyes. "I'll pay you double..."

My eyebrows skyrocketed. "You want me back that much?"

"Nah, I think you deserve double for sitting here for two hours," he said with a laugh. Pete smiled and actually looked at me this time, but then looked away.

"You know what? I think I'll be your bargirl again."

Did I just say that?

----------------------------------------------------------------

The next night, around seven, I was skipping around my apartment again, putting on my old uniform and fixing my blow dried hair. Joe would be coming over to give me a ride at a quarter-after, and I didn't want to be late.

As I slipped on my other shoe, I heard the doorbell rang. "Shiz," I muttered under my breath, then yelled, "COME IN!"

"Michelle?"

I glanced up in shock. It wasn't Joe. It was Pete. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, blinking.

He walked over and sat down on the couch, where I had been kneeling on, trying to get my shoe on.

"I thought about you the whole time we were gone," he let out in a breath, avoiding my eyes. "And yesterday I acted like a moron."

Well, yeah, duh.

"And I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said in a softer voice, then gazed up at me. "I really am. And I wanted to take you to work tonight."

"You told Joe I said you'd come get me."

He blushed. "Sort of..."

"I forgive you, Pete. Now c'mon, I really don't want to be late for my first day..."

We laughed and walked out the door, me thinking if this was the right thing after all. Was it really what should happen?

Or was I going to be ripped apart again?