A. Jackson - When We Met

Five hours into my shift and my feet were begging for a break. Today had been a long fourteen-hour marathon. An early cram session at the library had me out of the house earlier than normal, followed by art history class and then more studying before my final class of the day.

As the dinner crowd slowly trickled away, I stood out of view of the few remaining patrons and rolled my shoulders, trying to work out a kink in my neck. Feeling marginally better, I left the drink station to hand over the check to what would hopefully be my last customer of the night.

As luck would have it, Felicia, everyone’s least favorite hostess, squashed that thought as she walked by. “Hey, Court. I just sat another group at table twelve in your zone.” Like I needed her to tell me table twelve was in my zone. I had worked here long enough to know the layout of the dining area.

That was Felicia. She was a witch who had an annoying habit of telling everyone how to do their jobs. Worst of all was the way she would brag about how they used to do things at the last sports bar where she’d worked. After several not-so-subtle hints, Amanda had finally told her to go back to her last place if it was so fabulous because maybe she’d be happier there. Felicia missed the hint. She was on the verge of having her mouth taped closed, but thankfully we felt her days were numbered since she’d called in sick twice in two weeks. Chris had a low tolerance for employees who missed shifts. We were already planning the celebration party.

I straightened up and pasted a smile on my face to greet my new table.

“Welcome to Gruby’s. I’m Courtney, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Drafts are buy one, get one for another twenty minutes,” I parroted, finally looking at the occupants as I pulled my notepad from the pocket of my half apron. My eyes widened and my mouth went dry when I took in the group sitting at the table. Actually it was because of one person in particular. I knew there was a chance this day would come. I was just hoping to be better prepared for it.

Dalton Thompson, my first best friend and onetime crush, sat in front of me, flashing his signature grin that I knew all too well. It had been years since that grin was aimed in my direction, but it was forever burned in my brain. Not that I could forget it, considering where I went to school. That same cheeky smile could be found on banners splashed all over campus, along with local TV news stations and even the national sports channels. Dalton was the face of the university’s basketball team. After he’d won two state championships in high school, every big-time program in the country wanted Dalton, but he chose to stay home and play for Michigan. He was practically a legend to everyone in the local community, and one day in the not too distant future would be a top ten pick in the pros. To me, he was so much more. At least, he was at one time. When I decided to attend the same college as Dalton, I figured I was safe because the chances of us running into each other were pretty slim, and yet here we were.

Dalton

“I’ll take the Gruby’s burger, medium, and an extra order of fries.” I handed over the menu to Courtney Leighton, recognizing her right away even though I hadn’t seen her in years. We were best friends when we were kids. Then we drifted apart and it was like she became a ghost. We stopped talking and even though we went to the same schools, we never seemed to see each other.

Checking her out now in her short skirt and tight black T-shirt, I was surprised at how much she had changed. She definitely wasn’t the tomboy I remembered who used to climb trees with me or trade Pokémon cards. She was still short, but her body had developed and filled out the package nicely. Who would ever have thought she’d grow up to be such a knockout? As a matter of fact, the longer she stood in front of me, the cuter she was getting. The height difference might be weird. I bet if I stood up she’d barely reach my chest, which actually could make for some interesting possibilities. She had a tiny waist with a gorgeous ass that looked like it had been crafted for my big hands. Not to mention she was completely stacked. I shifted in my seat since I was suddenly more than a little turned on just looking at her. I needed to get a grip. This was Courtney. How weird would it be if we hooked up after all these years?

She took everyone else’s orders but still hadn’t looked at me. It was like she didn’t recognize me. I remember being pretty bummed back in seventh grade when we started drifting apart, but at the time my dad was riding my ass hard, claiming my days of screwing off were over and that I had to get serious about my game. After that, he made sure I had no time for anything in my life except basketball.

“Anything else?” Courtney asked, finally looking at me like she was bored.

Her expression threw me off. Maybe she did recognize me and just didn’t care or was too embarrassed to say anything. Even though this was a different situation, I’d had my fair share of awkward encounters with women. I always tried to be up front with any girl I met, but sometimes they wanted more than I could give them. Unfortunately basketball took up the majority of the free time I had after classes. That was why I’d never gotten serious with anyone. I never made false promises about where any relationship was going. Up to this point most ladies had been cool with that.

I decided to go for broke. “It’s good to see you, Courtney.”

“Hey, Dalton.” She looked extremely uncomfortable. I guess that answered my question as to whether she remembered me.

“It’s been a long time. Do you go to Michigan?” I was doing my best to break the ice, but she still wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“Yeah, I do. I’ll get your orders in.” She hastily tucked the menus under her arm and flashed the others a smile before hurrying away. I got nothing.

“That was a little cold. Is she an ex or something?” Collin asked once she was out of earshot.

“Man, I wish I could have ordered a beer,” Dave muttered.

“Nah, we knew each other way back in grade school,” I answered. “And don’t even think about it, Dave. You never know who’s watching.” Coach had laid down the law now that the season was heating up. No drinking and no staying up late chasing ass. Dave, who was hoping to get more court time, had taken those words to heart. He’d given up partying and even dumped Jessica, his girlfriend for the past six months. That was why we came to Gruby’s tonight. We hadn’t been here in a couple of months and figured good food and hot waitresses in skimpy uniforms would do him some good.

“That’s cool. Talk about some small-world shit, though,” Collin commented about Courtney. “I had to ask to make sure I wasn’t about to eat a burger that had been dunked in toilet water or something, you know?”

“Damn, dude. Give me a little credit. I’ve never had a chick hate me that bad.”

“My ass. You don’t remember—damn, what was her name?” He paused, snapping his fingers. “We called her Black Widow.”

I slapped the table, nearly falling backward out of my chair. “Oh, shit. You mean Aubrey. Okay, but she was crazy.” Collin did have a point, though. Aubrey was cool at first, but after a while I had to cut it off because she got seriously possessive. She would pick fights with chicks that did nothing but look at me. After I told her we were done, she spray-painted the word asshole down the entire hallway of the dorm where I lived at the time.

“This fucking sucks,” Dave whined, checking his phone for a text that obviously hadn’t come in. He tossed the phone on the table like a total pussy.

“Dude, I don’t think Coach meant you needed to break up with your lady. He just didn’t want anyone hanging out at the bars all night trying to score,” I pointed out as he picked up his phone on the off chance a message had come through in the two seconds it was out of his hand.

“Yeah, you look like a total pussy whip,” Collin added, elbowing him.

“Fuck off, Collin,” he said as Courtney approached the table carrying our drinks.

I flashed her a smile when our eyes met, but her glance slid right on by like she wasn’t even aware I was there.

“Here you go.” She smiled at Dave as she handed him his Coke. Collin got the same greeting, but when Courtney turned to me, her face was blank.

“Thanks,” I said as she set my drink down. She nodded in response but turned back to Collin and Dave. “Your food should be up in a few minutes. If you need anything, ring the buzzer,” she said to them, pointing at the buzzer attached to the wall. It was supposed to sound like the time-out buzzers at the arena, but it sounded more like some annoying horn you’d find in a smart car or something.

My eyes focused on Courtney’s backside as she walked away. I’m not going to lie. I was completely puzzled by her attitude toward me. Collin was right. She was acting like someone I’d had a bad breakup from, not someone I had once been friends with. Sure, it was a long time ago. Hell, she was the first girl I’d ever kissed. Although calling it a kiss was a stretch. It was more like me awkwardly smashing my lips against hers without asking when we were ten years old. We were watching a movie at her house and I took a shot. Courtney retaliated by socking me in the arm. I never tried to kiss her again after that.

Courtney

“Hey, Chuck, how much longer on my order?” I drummed my fingers on the serving counter, staring off into space in the crowded kitchen.

“Coming up.”

I was so ready for the evening to be over, and past ready to get rid of Dalton. Having him grin at me and act like we were still friends was making me shaky and off-kilter. Obviously he didn’t remember how he’d tossed me aside like I was no longer important. He moved on, leaving me behind without my best friend. More important, I was confused about the feelings I had started having for him. One moment I was daydreaming about us becoming boyfriend and girlfriend and then, poof, he was gone.

I had tried convincing myself I hated him for ditching me, but I couldn’t do it. I had a crush. What could I say? Over the years I’d watched him from afar, but we never really ran in the same circles again. In eighth grade his talent on the court earned him a lot of attention, and in high school basketball had made him a legitimate star. When I saw him in the hallways, he always seemed to have a new girl on his arm. I found my own circle of friends in high school, and eventually I realized I had romanticized our friendship into something it wasn’t and I got over him.

Facing him now while he attempted to flirt with me like I was a typical girl he’d just met was seriously screwing with my head. I could see why girls were into him. It took all my concentration to ignore his come-hither looks and deep, sexy voice. How one person could be blessed with so many gifts was beyond me. Most men would trade their left nut for even a smidge of his talent on the basketball court, but combining that with rugged good looks and a voice that would make any girl’s panties wet was just unfair.

Amanda interrupted my inner whine-fest, snagging a fry from one of the plates waiting to go out. “So, how’s it going?”

I smacked her hand without hesitation, making the fry drop to the floor.

“Hey.” She reached for another in spite of her complaint, but I slid the plate out of her reach.

“You know Chris will have your head if he sees you munching off the customers’ plates.” I didn’t know why I had to remind her. She knew the rules as well as I did.

She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re such a brownnoser.”

“And you should know how gross that is. I’d hurl if I found out someone had their fingers in my food. You know Chuck would make you something if you asked.”

“I don’t want a whole dish of something. I’m on a diet, hence why I was only after one fry.” She patted her model-thin waist for emphasis. I was tempted to throat-punch her. I wasn’t fat. I just had more curves than I would have preferred. My waist was tiny, but my ass seemed determined to be seen. I was okay with my boobs being on the larger side, although at times I worried they were too large for my frame. Maybe I wouldn’t mind my figure as much if I were taller. Being five foot nothing made my hourglass curves look like they had been smooshed in a compactor.