Chapter Two:
"Happy Hallo-Fucking-Ween."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Ramona was beyond pissed when her boss told her she would have to work on Halloween. Quite frankly, she didn't understand why he didn't just close down the restaurant that day, no one ever shows up, anyway. The teens are too busy partying, somehere she'd rather be right now.

Right now, she'd rather be getting high out of her mind and eating an unholy amount of candy that she'd certainly regret doing within the hour.

While the teens partied, the kids were running around the neighborhood, all dressed up in their costumes as they went from door to door.

Her eyes focused on the TV, which played the ending of a horror movie. She glanced briefly down at her dad's old watch on her wrist, noting that it was just past midnight.

The wind whirled outside, providing a spooky atmosphere as fog coated the windows. It was almost the perfect setting for a horror movie. The bright fluorescent lights buzzed above her head, flickering every few minutes.

"Let's do the mash.. The monster mash." Ramona mumbled to herself, stirring her melted chocolate shake. "It was a graveyard smash.. heh, smash."

The lights continied to flicker above her, the only other light shining being the full moon. Ramona tapped her nails against the counter as she began to day dream.

Ramona squeezed her left eye shut as the woman on the screen let out a blood curdling scream as whatever, or whoever, was chasing her finally caught her.

By the time the credits had finished, Ramona's shift was nearly over as the hour changed from twelve to one.

She thought it should be illegal to make a minor work past ten, especially on a school night, but her boss didn't care too much for the legality of things. Neither did she when it came to work, honestly. Her family needed the money, and extra hours meant extra pay.

Most of the time.

The bell ringing, signalling to Ramona that someone had entered the small diner, brought her back from her thoughts.

She looked up from her still unfinished drink, her entire mood dropping when she saw him standing there.

Harrington. His head hung low and his hair was droopy, covering his face. Even without seeing his expression, she could tell by his body language that something was wrong.

Still, Ramona certainly wasn't in the mood for his bullshit tonight. Not that she was in the mood for it any other night, and she definitely wasn't in the mood to be robbed again.

"Harrington-" She stood straight up, wiping her hands on her pale yellow uniform before

"Not now, García." He said, looking up briefly before seating himself at a booth and letting his head drop into his arms.

Ramona swallowed, furrowing her eyebrows when she saw the state that he was in. His eyes were bloodshot and she immediately noticed his tear streaked cheeks. His usually perfectly done hair had turned into a mop on his head, Ramona thought it meant he had been anxiously tugging on it.

His back rose and fell unevenly, indicating his trouble breathing. Steve's fingers gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.

She sighed, reaching her hand back and tugging the hair tie from her hair and slipping it onto her wrist as she walked into the kitchen.

Seeing that the cook was fast asleep in his chair, Ramona scoffed quietly to herself as she opened the cooler.

Ramona placed the vanilla ice cream along with the rootbeer onto the counter. She leaned over, picking out the large glass, flipping it over and placing it on the counter.

"Happy Hallo-fucking-ween." She muttered to herself, "It's been great."

Working quickly, she scooped three scoops of vanilla ice cream into the glass before pouring in the rootbeer.
She placed one cherry on top and put the items back in the cooler before leaving the kitchen.

She paused momentarily, watching as he swiped his hands across his face before letting his head fall back onto his arms.

She thought for a moment, wondering if this was a good idea or not. In the end, she ultimately decided probably not, but she did it anyway.

Ramona placed the drink in front of Steve before sliding into the booth across from him.

His head slowly poked up from his arms at the sound. He focused on the drink before flickering his eyes to her.

"Are you just gonna sit there and mope.. or?" Ramona said slowly, tilting her head when he didn't say anything.

"What's this?" He pointed to the drink, confusion clear on his face.

"It's a rootbeer float." She said, pushing it closer to him. "For you."

Steve slowly sat up, pulling the drink towards him by the base. "Why?"

"Because you like those. And you look.. well.. like a mess, frankly." Ramona shrugged, leaning forward and pulling the cherry from the whipped cream and popping it into her mouth.

Steve watched her do this in silence, surprising Ramona. She was expecting him to protest and smack her hand away like he always did with the other girls he brought in here.

She'd counted ten before Nancy, and Nancy was the only one he wouldn't do that to. But there were still complaints as he left with her.

"You good?" She asked after he stared blankly at her.

"Do I look good to you?" Steve retaliated, leaning down and taking a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on her.

"No, you don't.." Ramona shook her head, her voice softening. "What happened?"

As much as she disliked the boy, and she did very much dislike him, she hated seeing people heartbroken.

Steve scoffed, "What's it to you, García? Why do you care? Don't you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, Harrington. Strongly dislike, sure, but not hate." Ramona tried joking to lighten the situation, "But what happened?"

Steve stayed silent, sipping the the drink, pain clear in his eyes. "She dumped me."

"Wha- Wait, what?" Ramona was shocked as she sat back, her back hitting the leather of the booth.

"Called me bullshit, called everything bullshit, called us bullshit. Just.. bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Then she left with Jonathan." Steve shook his head, as if didn't even believe it himself. "Yeah.. bullshit, right?"

Ramona didn't respond, as she was taking a few minutes to process what Steve had admitted to her.

"Want another?" She pointed at the drink, "On the house.."

Steve rose an eyebrow, "What?"

"I'm gonna help you. One rootbeer float at a time." Ramona said.

"Good luck with that," Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Rootbeer floats can't fix this one."

"I'll get you another. It might not help, but it sure as hell tastes good, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes, a bitter laugh leaving his lips. "You can try."

"I think you're underestimating me a bit, Harrington." Ramona swiped her tongue along her bottom lip as she leaned back.

He shook his head, looking up at her. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Ramona shrugged, "Don't know actually. You've always been a bit of a dick to me."

Steve looked away, focusing his eyes on the moon. Ramona could still see the heartbreak in those eyes, "I know."

Steve turned his head to look at her, pure and utter pain in his voice. "I know."

"I'll get you another." Ramona slipped out from the booth, taking his glass and leaving.

Minutes later, Ramona returned with the drink. "Here."

Steve didn't respond, simply pullling the glass closer to himself.

"Did she say anything else?"

Steve shook his head 'no'. "She was drunk."

"Then I'm sure she didn't mean it. Nancy.. She.. Nancy loves you."

"No, but she meant it.. and maybe she did at some point. But not anymore."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

{ Word Count: 1322 }

{ A/n: ya'll auditions are on Monday and i am: nervous }

{ Edited: No }