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George hadn't noticed him until a new locker was being occupied by someone who didn't put their last name initial. She then noticed his name tag also included just his nickname.
She had seen him around in school. He was probably at least a few years older at most. At school, they ran in different crowds. George didn't participate in extracurriculars, busy taking care of her sisters and having no time to spend outside of work, home and school. Ace seemed to be a social floater; always drifting from group to group but never settling in one that completely fit. She does recall him being scrawnier and spending time reading alone during lunch, the only class they had together.
And now post high school; coworkers at a minimum wage job at the closest thing townies have to a nice but affordable restaurant.
"Hey."
She nearly punched him for startling her but she stopped herself. George looked up and down at him for the first time.
Pretty easy on the eyes. Golden tousled hair. Clear blue gray eyes and a shy but friendly, warm smile.
"I'm Ace." He waved at her sheepishly. "I'm new. Dawn said you'd show me how to work the sink?"
Okay, good. So his voice isn't annoying.
"George." She replied in a clipped tone. "It's really not that difficult. You just turn on the faucet and figure out the different water pressures with the hose and make sure the plates can be eaten off of." She went back to trying to put in he combination to her locker.
She didn't really know how it worked but she was a waitress, not a dishwasher. If he needed a full fledged explanation, he can ask an actually qualified person.
"Okay. Thank you."
"Mm-hmm." She mumbled once he left to go up into the kitchen.
It wasn't the most memorable first impression. You meet new people every day. But for some reason, that moment just stuck.
*****
It was a humid July morning when she pulled up to the restaurant, slick with a mixture of the shower and sweat from biking all the way from home. The crowded line waiting for breakfast hour to open didn't help and it was suffocating even chaining her bike to the rack next to a crying toddler and an intimidating old woman.
Someone bumped into her and George stumbled off the curb and seethed, her palms and knees stinging and raw. "Crap!"
Victoria had of course forgotten to walk Ted to the bus stop for summer camp so naturally, it fell on George's shoulders but it already made her late. Along with her alarm clock accidentally set to go off at six at night. And now a busy early shift and freshly cut hands and knees.
So the day was already off to a terrible start.
George made a beeline towards the back where two waiters, one cook and Ace were all scattered, either leaning against the wall near the door or sitting in the tables meant for outdoor dining.
"What the hell is going on?"
She didn't mean to sound so authoritative but everyone straightened their backs and adjusted their positions. George tried to hide her smirk but Ace raised an amused eyebrow.
"No one's got a key."
George rolled her eyes. Some of them have been working there a lot longer than she has and yet she was the one who wasn't completely oblivious. Silently, she stormed off to the dumpster while the rest of them followed suit curiously.
She knelt down and reached underneath, pulling out a silver rusty key. "Remind me to yell at the person in charge who was supposed to lead opening shift today."
"Dibs." Ace quipped, raising a hand and grinning. She glared at him, deadpan and his smile wavered slightly.
George swung the door open and they tried their best to make the restaurant as clean as possible before opening the door to let customers in.
The crying toddler waddled in and let out a screech at her holding menus. "Blood!"
George frowned and looked down to see where she was pointing.
Sure enough, there was the massive scrape on her knee from before at the line but a trail of blood had already trailed down her leg, about to be absorbed by her sock.
"You're bleeding, you're bleeding!"
She thought it would've clot by now but it must've reopened when she bent down to pick up the key.
"Shit!"
Her mother gasped and covered her child's ears. "Watch your language!"
"Oh crap, I mean- I didn't mean to-"
"Welcome to the Claw! How many people in your party?" Someone grabbed the menus from her hand in a quick motion and stood in front of her, trying to referee the situation.
Ace leaned towards her while the mother hesitantly counted the amount of family members. "I can stall long enough for you to get the first aid kit and bandage that. Remember to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol."
"I know how to clean a wound, I have three sisters." George snapped.
Ace ignored her. "I'll get Sam to take over for this table since this is technically not my area of expertise and you can go wait for someone else."
George sighed with relief, backing away towards the locker room. "Thank you." She mouthed.
Ace shrugged as if it was nothing and turned back to the family, leading them to a booth in the corner.
She wasn't expecting him to be so...nice. Most people she meet always need something from her but this guy was different. He always asked her how her day was going and offered to help whenever she needed a second pair of hands.
During their breaks, he was always quiet. Which she appreciated. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence and he didn't try to push her into talking when she didn't feel like it, especially after having to put on a fake smile in front of irritating customers. Mostly, he just either read or smoked joints. Or both.
When they did talk, Ace told her about how the books were from the library where his mother worked. He described what they were about and just by that, she could tell it wasn't just to appease his mother or gain extra credit for English class. He was genuinely immersed in the worlds other authors created purely out of pen and paper. His favorite works usually included Arthur Conan Doyle, Stephen King, Agatha Christie and Frank Herbert. Jane Austen was a guilty pleasure and George was sworn to secrecy.
In return, she talked him about music. She went on tangents about how the music they played at the restaurant was repetitive and annoying and how they'd benefit if they surveyed the customers with a mixture of the staff's personal tastes. Just to make the long hours more bearable.
"Ace, trust me. No one wants to hear your loud white boy rock at ten in the morning. And Dawn is totally not gonna let it slide."
"She gave a listen to your Lemon Demon request!"
"So she could approve if it should be played. Which she didn't."
"So we're just supposed to listen to Carole King for three more hours?"
"I mean...it could be worse. It could be. We should convince her to fix that old jukebox in her office so the customers play whatever they want."
"Wouldn't it be easier to just use like a playlist or a radio?"
"Nostalgia is good for business."
"If my mom were listening to this conversation, she's say 'Back in my day, we used to wait for our favorite song to come on the radio and hit record. You don't understand how lucky you are to just search up songs with the tap of your finger.' "
His impression of his mom was so stupidly exaggerated that George couldn't help but let out a massive guffaw.
It was almost unnerving how extremely kind he was. Personal experience has taught her that people you meet will eventually disappoint you. Like the girls on high school who only seem nice but either keep their mouths shut or open them to spread vicious rumors about you.
Or the people who've been in your life since the start and have been disappointing you ever since. So much that you had put on your big girl pants and take over the role she was supposed to play.
But some people surprise you.
*****
One day, after George had trained Bess, the new waitress that dressed like a rich coastal grandmother, she found him at the end of their shift outside on the curb next to the parking lot.
He was heaving out gulps of air rapidly, almost choking. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead and he shakily lifted his arm to wipe it off with his sleeve.
The thing about Ace was that he was a pretty chill dude. Faced with conflict, he always reacted nonchalantly. Like there was nothing he could do to change it and he accepted it with ease. He had a blase manner to him. He always stood still.
So the scene that stood before her was strange and foreign. George dropped her bag to the pavement and carefully approached him, as if about to pet a spooked animal.
"Ace? Are you okay?" Her voice came out barely a whisper.
His eyes were shut and he nodded. His hands suddenly balled into tight fists, knuckles pale. "Yeah-yeah....I'm okay...couldn't catch my breath. For a second." It was strained and cracked, as if he were trying to force the words out and failing to mask it with a tone of neutrality. "Don't worry about me."
George stood there for a moment, debating whether or not to leave. She cursed herself for even considering leaving when someone she cared about was obviously hurt. Not that she'd ever admit this to his face, but he had grown on her. Kind of like a fungus.
But then again, was it really her place to comfort him? When they were only just getting to get to know each other?
She decided against her overthinking and went with her gut. George plopped herself cross legged next to Ace, leaving some room between them.
She made a mental list in her head of whatever symptoms he was having and her eyes widened.
"What do you see?"
"What?"
"Tell me what you see. Right now. Name...five things."
Ace's eyes darted around frantically. It was the first time she noticed up close how dark they were. Lavender, swollen circles hung underneath and his cheeks were slightly hollower.
"I see...a coffee cup. Um, a rock. A plant near where the rock is. The door. And the bell."
"Okay, that's good. You're doing good." George encouraged, patting him on the back. She could already see him loosen his shoulders more and his breathing starting to decrease. "How about what you feel? What you can touch? Tell me four things."
"The curb...the sand in my shoe. Your hand. And my car keys."
"Alright. Okay, now can you tell me what to hear now? Can you tell me three?"
"I hear...the ocean? I think it's the- it's the ocean. I hear people talking inside. I can hear a car."
"You're almost there, Ace. Two things you smell right now."
"The, um...the clam chowder. And...it smells like chlorine?"
George must've borrowed a shirt from Jessie when she visited the aquarium a half hour away from school. So that was partly to blame.
"One more thing. What do you taste?"
"Unfortunately the lunch special." Ace laughed weakly and George grinned bittersweetly, squeezing his shoulder.
"Hey. There we go."
Ace let out a sigh and some color has returned to his face. The two of them sat there in silence for a while, watching as seagulls overhead flew past them and the waves crashed against the dining patio fence.
Sometimes what a person needs isn't any fixing or any advice that they may not want to hear. You just needed someone to be there. To let you know that they're there for you and they're willing to listen to you for as long as you need. You just needed to give them space and time to let them decide when and where.
"My dad got into an accident." Ace finally spoke. George turned to face him.
"He's okay. It was only a little dent in the back. It just..." Ace paused and inhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "The first time was worse. A lot worse. I guess...hearing the call from my mom. It took me back to that night, you know?"
George didn't say anything. But she scooted a little closer so she could reach out and wrap her arms around him. It was a little weird at first. She wasn't used to showing displays of comfort and she was a little wooden but the two of them leaned their heads against the other.
"This is a first for you, isn't it?"
"How can you tell?"
"Because you're pinching my arm and your nails are very sharp." Ace replied unfazed.
George snorted and let go of the hug. "Okay, I suck at making people feel better."
Ace shook his head fervently. "Untrue. You did pretty good with my panic attack."
George shrugged and turned away to stare into the nearly empty parking lot.
"I get them too."
She didn't know why she was telling him this.
But George trusted him.
He blinked, processing the information and gazed at her, listening.
"Sometimes when it all gets too much, I guess." She fidgeted with her rings and scratched off polish off her nails, black flakes landing on her green uniform. "I'm kind of the breadwinner of my family. My mom's not really reliable and Dad?" She scoffed, letting the sentence trail off. "So it all comes to a breaking point when I'm busy helping my sisters study till midnight but I haven't paid the bills because I'm trying to put in time for myself with work and school which are usually the next morning. And I look at everyone at school and they're just so happy. And I feel like I'm missing out on such great things, that my life so far is all work and no play. And I think to myself that I deserve that. I deserve to have fun but then I feel guilty for being so selfish. It's just so...suffocating."
"Like you don't have time to take a breath?"
She nodded. "Exactly."
It occurred to George that something shifted in the bond between her and Ace that day. They had opened up. They weren't just coworkers now or acquaintances that merely talked to one another just to pass the time.
Ace was her first true friend.
"Hey." Ace nudged her lightly on the elbow. "I could always tutor them at the library. We technically close at nine but my mom can make an exception." He gave her a serious expression, knowing she'll deny this offer. "You're not selfish for wanting those things, George. You're not the only one who wants what best for your sisters. They want you to be happy, too. You shouldn't have had to shoulder all the struggles taking care of a family comes with in the first place."
George tried to bite back the tears forming in her eyes but caved in and gave a watery smile. She chuckled and flicked the tears away. "Alright fine. But Tuesday's and Thursday's only. And I'm paying you."
"You're not paying me. But you can make it up to me you get promoted to my boss and you let me skip shifts so I can take that cute waitress on beach dates."
"Dude, Bess? Give it a rest, man. She is so not into you."
"Okay, no need to squash my hopes."
"It is not worth getting rejected for and I'm so not letting you off of work whenever you feel like it."
"Meh. We'll see."