TWO INCHES TALL
by perletwo
Up to that moment, it was a perfectly normal Thursday.
We were getting slammed with the standard post-show rush from the movie theater down the street - the Doublemeat's the nearest fast food place, and we'll get whole big groups of teenagers that first half-hour after a movie lets out. Big knots of them giggling, studying the menu like they've never seen it before, counting out change to pay for their meager orders. Hearty burgers for the boys, cups of water for the girls, maybe a salad for the braver girls.
One time Dawn came in with one of those, hanging on the fringes. She just got water. I was on grill that night, so she was spared having to explain me, at least.
Tonight I'm on register, and Dawn hasn't been in any of the groups of kids chattering about how Angelina Jolie handles a gun or fills out a pair of shorts. The one or two brain cells not concentrating on juggling orders were actually congratulating me on that stroke of luck.
I thought it was a pretty good night up to that moment, when I looked up and saw a customer in line on his own. My heart started to pound and I know my mouth was hanging open, struck speechless with embarrassment.
Of all the people I never wanted to see me dressed like this, working in a place like this - what will he *say* -
"Doublemeat combo, large-sized, with onion rings and Diet Coke."
My mind went blank for a second. Then I sucked it up. Punched in the order, took the money he offered, made change and turned around to wait for the food, checked the fry bins, grateful for the excuse to turn my back. Dished up the food and tried not to stare at his retreating back.
A girl was waiting for him at a booth. Young, blonde and giggly, nursing a bottle of water and picking at the onion rings while he attacked his oversized burger.
"Gina? Can you cover the register while I run to the ladies'? I promise, I'll be quick." She nodded and I switched places with the little old lady.
Fast as I could I dashed to the employee washroom, cursing all the obstacles in my way. When I got there I doubled up over the toilet, emptying my stomach into the bowl. So much for that free combo meal.
Parker hadn't remembered me. At all. Not even a flicker of recognition.
I don't know what I expected should've happened, but that possibility never even crossed my mind.
Somehow I got through the rest of the shift, although I could feel my skin flushed hot with shame all night long. I couldn't stop thinking about the incident - non-incident - but it wasn't Parker I thought of. What was there to remember about him, really, after all?
No, when I think back on that episode with Parker, I realized tonight, all that comes back to me is Spike. Fighting with him on the quad, him dragging my life as a Slayer and my humiliating failure as a sexpot out into the harsh light of day.
The contempt in his voice. ||So you let ol' Parker take a poke, eh?...Didn't seem like you knew him all that well...||
Normally - if there's anything normal about it - if I got to feeling weak and pathetic like this, Spike is who I'd go to. Let him screw me good, then get up and do everything I can to make him feel like dirt. Just like Parker did to me.
Tonight, all I want to do is go home, curl up into a ball and cry.
But I can't. I still have to go slay vampires.
The one girl in all the world. The special one. The one with the Destiny.
Yeah. Right.