A Dime A Dozen

"Water please." I said to the waitress. I know myself that I'm not that much of a cheapskate since I work two jobs, but what I'm witnessing right now is something extraordinary.

Cramming down the whole pancake, syrup drips down from her lips to chin. She was taking a bite out of everything, the cheesesteak was demolished within minutes as the next victims were the measly fries on a plastic plate. Covering the crime scene, she gulped down the milkshake in two sips. We're fortunate enough that there were only a few people in the diner because we might get reprimanded immediately if that was the case.

As I was witnessing what was happening before me, I think back to what she asked. "What is normal?" The question pierced my mind, for reasons I exactly don't understand. To be honest, I don't even know what "normal" or being "normal" is. The reason why I'm here right now was because I couldn't answer her question for her. So to make up for it, I offered to treat her. Looking back at it now, I don't even know why I insisted on treating her in the first place, she was a total stranger, it isn't my fault if I couldn't answer her question.

"I shouldn't be riddled with guilt by witnessing her exquisite face alter to a troubled look, but why is that the case here?" is what I thought to myself. Derailing the train of thought that ran through my mind. I snap back to the table I was sitting in.

Finishing the crumbs of the fries that were left on the paper plate, she looked at me and said "Thank you." That was probably the first time I saw her face close to forming a smile. Being strucked would be an understatement, I was bewitched.

"Oh, it's no problem, plus you looked like you were hungry. I mean, you looked out of it when we were on our way here." I replied.

"Oh, ha-ha yeah..."

". . . . . . . . . . . . . . "

". . . . . . . . . . . . . . "

We were silent once again, just like back then when she asked me that question, but now that I think about it, wasn't I missing something crucial here? Oh yeah, why she was bruised up and was camping outside of a convenience store.

"So I was going to ask you this back at the store, but I didn't because it would seem rude. I'm just going to assume that you're not homeless are you? " I asked just like any other guy that works at a convenience store, nervously that is.

"To be honest, I don't even know anymore." She vaguely answered my question.

"What do you mean by that? Did you get kicked out? or maybe did your house got destroyed or something? Wait, didn't you say that you weren't around here? So where are you really-" I threw barrages of questions as I was unable to keep them from myself. "Isn't this like really serious? Why isn't she worried about herself?" Is what I thought to myself.

"Wait. Wait. Wait. One at a time, let's start with names okay?" Like smashing a stop sign at my face, I was slowed down.

"Oh, okay. Sorry, I-I'm Simon Hoover, I work at the convenience store that we were at earlier." I introduced myself, admitting that I have a stable job, but with that came embarrassment as well.

"My turn, I'm Aleisha Crooks."

"So uh- Aleisha, where are you from?" I asked politely.

To which she replied in a straightforward manner. "Nowhere."

"By nowhere? You mean homeless right?" I once again asked politely.

"I should have clarified that, me and my dad, we are travelling the whole United States together." She clarified.

"Oh that's neat, but where's your Dad now?" I asked haphazardly which was obviously not in a polite manner.

"Oh-uh, he-he's somewhere, I was waiting for him at the store because he said that he was going to come back and get some...gas." She replied while pausing on multiple occasions.

Pressing on the conversation further, I asked her some more.

"So how did you get those bruises over your body?"

"Oh these, I tripped when....when I was refueling the gas tank and also my skin is really sensitive."

I obviously didn't believe that, but I went along with it.

"Oh is that so? Then what will you do now? Where will you stay?"

"Oh, probably at this diner. I mean it's 24 hours and it's warm." She replied bluntly, but something felt off.

"Are you actually sure about that? I mean no offense, but you're a girl and all. Sleeping defenseless, wouldn't it be dangerous." I worryingly replied, even thought it was none of my business on what she does with her life and where she decides to sleep.

"I-I mean I know Tae-taekwando so I can probably defend myself." It's as if she just realized the severity of her situation, she stuttered.

I already know where this is going, but why do I feel happy for some reason? I mean she said that she has no place to sleep tonight so why should I be happy about that? Offering her a place to stay for the night was the perfect scenario where love could bloom isn't it?

"How low can I get? I'm so pathetic." I whispered under my breath to ask myself as serotonin fueled the thoughts more.

"How about my place?" I asked bluntly in a monotone voice. Realizing the unintended advances, I quickly retracted and clarified what I meant. "Oh-oh I-I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. I guess it would be too weird for a girl to stay in a guys's apartment, let alone she ju-"

"Really?! That would be great, I appreciate it! Actually let's go now, I'm pretty tired." She quickly replied, slamming her palms on the table and completely cutting me off as I was trying to clarify that I wasn't making advances on her. The few people at the diner glanced at us, they probably think that we won the lottery or something.

"Like right now? I-I guess, yeah, sure. Let me pay the bill first." I stood up walking over the counter.

Pulling out the wallet from my pocket, the air conditioner's fan swings towards me, giving me chills, but for some reason, it was not that cold.