Page 1 of Abyss

Chapter One

KAVI

From: Kavi

To: Nathan

Date: June 2 4:43 PM

Subject: The Waiting Place . . .

First day of work. Wish me luck.

And yes, I know what you’re going to say. I haven’t worked in the food industry before. I haven’t worked inanyindustry before. But I just need something to tide me over for three months. Then I can do the thing I’ve been waiting my whole life to do.

Speaking of, I haven’t painted in two months. I can practically see your eyes popping out.

You know how I get without the smell of paint after a while. I just haven’t had the time! Last month was crazy leading up to graduation, and this month I was trying to find a damn job. How many places did I tell you I interviewed at? Fourteen?

And I doubt I’ll have the energy after this shift. From what I could tell, they’re short-staffed and overworked. I’ll be lucky to have the energy to brush my teeth before going to bed.

Anyway, I’ll tell you how it all goes. Here’s to hoping my tray skills are stronger than my basketball skills.

Or my tennis skills.

Or my dance skills.

Shut up. And stop laughing.

xoxo

-Special K

I’ve only messed up twice tonight.

Not too shabby, in my humble opinion. Though, I have no one else to weigh in and tell me if that’s normal on the first day except my boss, Arlo, since they’re all busy running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Arlo doesn’t look impressed.

For a high-end restaurant, I would have expected more staff and fewer delays, but hey, what do I know?

Suits me just fine since I’m not much of a talker, anyway.

Besides, it was just two plates delivered to the wrongtable, and an eggs Florentine instead of eggs Benedict sent to the guy at table seven, who still seems to be holding a grudge against me, what with his red-faced glare and exaggerated frown. Apparently, he’s very particular about having spinach in his eggs.

As I see it, people who order eggs for dinner are psychopaths, anyway.

“No, Arlo, I’m not serving his table again. The guy’s an asshole,” Stella whines, her expression a mix of agony and a plea as she glances across the room at a table in the back. She’s the server I shadowed last week for an evening, who’s been working here for a year.

Arlo keeps his eyes fixed on the computer screen at the waitstand while addressing her. “He’s also part owner of the establishment you’re employed by, in case you forgot.”

“Then have someone else serve him. See if you can maybe free up Kevin. Or, I don’t know,youcan do it, but I won’t. No tip is worth dealing with a man who has a pitchfork for a tongue.” Her gaze narrows when she finds me placing some extra menus in the designated cubby. “Have Kavi do it.”

Gee thanks, Stella! Why wouldn’t I want a verbal beatdown on my first day from Mr. Temperamental Dung beetle over there?

Arlo takes an exasperated breath. “Kevin already has too many tables, and Kavi’s too new—”

Agreed. Kavi’s too new.

“It’s not rocket science,” Stella interrupts. “He might be nicer if he knows she’s new.” She wraps her arms around her chest. “Arlo, I stayed back to help you fold the silverware way past my shift yesterday. I even came in on my day off last week when we were short-staffed. The least you can—”

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