Coma (Paranormal Romance) (7 page)

“Oh my God!” I shrieked, bulging my eyes.
Zack burst out laughing, throwing his back on my bed. “Not funny!”
I said, caressing my finger as if it was burned.

“So you didn't believe a word I said,” he
replied, still laughing. I didn't respond. It was too much to
process. He was REAL. Real as I was. Not to mention the
implications that had on my religious beliefs.

“For someone I had to fight with to say what
I wanted, you're awfully quiet now,” he spouted, sitting back up,
and nudged his head to the side, looking quite amused.

“How can this be?” I uttered, barely
audible.

“I don't know,” he answered, his face going
back to being serious. “When I first found myself in this state, I
had no recollection of who I was. Gradually, some things came back
to me. Things like my name, some fragments from past memories, but
mostly inconclusive.”

“Do you know where you're from? What happened
to you?”

“Nope. Most fragments don't match anything
from around here.”

“Zack?”

“Yeah?” A set of pearl white teeth lined up
on his face.

“This is a lot to digest. I feel so tired
right now. Can we continue this another time?”

“Sure. I waited this long, didn’t I?” Zack
flashed a smile, got up, and went for the door, turning around to
say: “Sweet dreams.”

“Mhm,” I muttered, already curled up in a
foetal position, hugging my teddy. I needed to distance myself from
all the info I had received. My mind was boggling. I struggled to
stop the thoughts swarming inside, torturing me. After a while, all
that was left in my head was a tiny voice repeating
“he's
real”
.

~*~

The alarm clock pierced my ears. I slammed it
shut with a heavy thud. Still curled up and fully dressed, I looked
around my room. Zack wasn’t there. I stretched my aching body, and
all of my joints made cracking sounds. My neck felt stiff. Thank
god, I didn't roll over the clothes Mom had laid out for me.

Still drowsy, I dragged my feet all the way
into the bathroom to wash my face. Cold water brought relief to my
weary eyes. I took a look at my own reflection in the mirror.
Teddy's buttons left deep imprints on my left cheek. In slow
motion, I squeezed out the last drop of toothpaste, and brushed my
teeth. Wide, slow circles across my gums felt more like massage
than brushing. Birds nest on my head would require more work, so I
left it for later.

Fully clothed, I went downstairs to force
some breakfast down my throat. The smell of bacon and eggs hit my
nostrils.

“Mom?” I said, as I walked into the
kitchen.

“Morning sleepy,” she replied with a wide
smile.

“Did you sleep at all?” She couldn't have;
not after her graveyard shift.

“Not yet. I couldn't miss my only daughter's
first day at work.”

“Aww,” I felt all warm and fuzzy. I didn't
expect her to do that. Preparing clothes was already way too
much.

“Besides, I have all morning to sleep, and
you'll need extra strength to get through the day,” Mom put two
fried eggs next to bacon on a plate and pushed it down the table.
The plate stopped inches from a glass full of freshly squeezed
orange juice.

“What would I do without you,” I said,
splashing salt over the eggs, and my stomach churned in
response.

“Dig in,” Mom giggled.

~*~

Making my hair behave turned out to be harder
than I thought. Finally, I managed to make a bun out of it, hoping
it would hold till the end of my shift. Thick, heavy hair such as
mine wasn't easy to tame. That's why I always wore it straight
down. Not today, though. All I needed was my hair slipping into
drinks on the tray.

I took the bus to Mario's, thinking about
last night's conversation with Zack. A part of me wanted to accept
it as real, the part that was attracted to him from the moment I
saw him. The scared part struggled with that possibility. It nagged
how it was all a dream, knowing it would be easier to come to terms
with that version of events. But it couldn't have been a dream.
Though, it would have been so much easier to get back to having a
paranormal stalker than to face flesh-and-blood person no-one else
could see, I had to acknowledge the fact.
Zack is real.
My
insides quivered to that thought. Immersed in my thoughts, I almost
forgot to get out of the bus on time. At the last minute, I slipped
through closing doors, getting an angry honk from a bus driver. I
fought the urge to flip him.

Mario's was so much different early in the
morning. A stale stench of hard liquor filled the air, combined
with a sweet smell of freshly baked pastry, and a sour smell of
coffee.

“There she is,” Lisa's cheerful voice
interrupted my observations. I smiled, and said hello. “I'll be
working with you today, but from tomorrow, you're on your own.” I
nodded. Mr. Thompson had mentioned it the day before.

After putting on an apron, preparing pots of
coffee, arranging muffins and other pastry in quantities usually
sold during morning, people started slowly coming in. I was baffled
by the fact how natural it felt to serve them. Lisa said they
rarely had new faces in the morning, and that soon I'd know which
newspaper to bring to whom, and how many coffee refills each of
them needed. According to her, night shift was a nightmare compared
to morning, because of all the drunks.

“But that's not in store for you,” she said.
“Jake and I own that shift,” she giggled, throwing an enigmatic
look toward now vacant Jake's bar. I smirked, suspecting there
might have been more than work between them.

“Speaking of Jake, when does he come in?” His
gruff face came to mind. The later, the better—I thought.

“He works night shifts, but like yesterday,
he jumps in when he's needed. He lives upstairs,” she pointed a
finger at the ceiling. A knot formed in my stomach at the
possibility of Jake popping in whenever he felt like it.

“Is he always that friendly?” I just had to
ask.

Lisa giggled, “Oh, don't let him get to you.
Underneath that hard surface, he's really a sweetheart.” Maybe to
her, but he freaked me out. I frowned.

~*~

At the end of my shift, my feet were killing
me. Everything went the way I hoped, and I really enjoyed my first
day at work. Jake came down only once––for breakfast. It was a bit
awkward serving his lovable personality, but he didn't even
acknowledge me, so as soon as he had finished his breakfast, and
took his grumpy self back up, I was able to relax again, and
enjoy.

Walking across the street toward a bus
station, I was surprised to see Zack waiting there—something a
normal person would do. My heart fluttered. A small smile escaped
my self-control, and I had to admit to myself that I was extremely
glad to see him. This time, though, it was different. I wasn't
walking up to a ghost that annoyed me; I was walking up to a guy
that would make any man look like a hog next to him. Absolutely
aware of his entire godly appearance, and the effect it had on me,
I felt so simple and plain. My reflection in a window didn’t
exactly boost my self-esteem, either. That ever-present pale
complexion combined with dark brown hair that usually made me feel
pretty and confident, now made me look like a zombie. All I needed
was red eyes instead of brown ones to pass as a one. I rustled my
fingers through the hair. A couple of butterflies tripped over each
other in my belly as Zack cracked a smile.

“Good day?” He asked, his dark green eyes
sparkling in broad daylight, only a slight translucency of his body
giving away his ghost status.

“Yap,” I responded shortly. “What? Don't tell
me you weren't there to spy on me?” I grinned, struggling to keep
my act together. Amazing how much had changed by the fact that he
was real. I was nervous!

“Now that you know all about me, where's the
fun in that?” His grin widened. “I decided to stalk your mother for
a change.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but instead I
chuckled. There was a hint of smugness on his face that told me he
must have been joking, so I said, “No, seriously. Were you
there?”

“Ha! None of your business,” his eyes
revealed he was enjoying my interest, so I decided to push that
topic further.

“I feel offended,” I formed a fake pout. “I
liked you more as a ghost.”

“You liked me?! God! Remind me to never get
on your bad side. If that's how you treat people you like—” a deep
laughter burst out of him.

“I didn't say I liked you at all,” my cheeks
started burning up. Oh, I liked him, alright. “If I hate black and
blue, saying I liked blue more than black doesn't mean I stopped
hating either one of them. There's a difference!” I rambled,
feeling weakness in my knees.

“So, you still hate me,” now he made a sad
face.

The bus was nearing, and I took a step toward
the curb. “If you keep your mouth shut on the bus, I'll try to hate
you less,” the bus opened the door, and I took a step in.

“Oh, I'm not coming along,” he said, sending
a painful sensation straight to my gut. I hesitated for a moment
with my back turned toward him, then entered the bus without a
word. I sat on the first available seat and stared forward. The bus
started moving.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!
—I reprimanded
myself.
He's still the same arrogant, obnoxious person he was.
Why did I let myself forget that? So, he's not a ghost, but that
doesn't change a thing.
I was angry with myself beyond control.
I behaved like love-sick schoolgirl there.
Flirting? What has
gotten into me? Stupid, stupid...

Nevertheless, a bus ride home was a bitter
experience. And for what? A set of assumptions on my side? As soon
as I saw him there, I assumed he was waiting for me. I needed to
set my priorities straight. Defiantly, I picked up my chin.
It’s
time to take two steps back, and start thinking with my head for a
change.

~*~

Each day at work went better than the
previous one. I loved working at Mario's and felt as if I had
always been a part of the team. My friends made an effort to come
earlier than we ever used to so they could catch the end of my
shift. Instantly, it became a ritual—I served them, finished
cleaning up, and then joined them at the table. Today was no
different.

“Hi gang, what will it be?” They recited
their orders, and before I went to get them, I whispered: “Today I
get my first paycheck,” and winked. Their eyes watered. I was the
first from our group to get a job, so it was kind of our group's
baby. Maya made a few silent claps with tips of her fingers. There
was one more table to serve, and then I had to meet the manager.
Excitement boiled in me.

I approached my last table. A large,
overweight man was sitting there, his butt cheeks spilling on each
side of the chair. Poor chair made squeaking sounds as he wiggled
in his seat. His shirt was having a hard time keeping all its
buttons in place. I prayed to God that they would hold on till I
got his order. I'd hate to be in his proximity when that thing
burst.

“Hi, may I take your order, sir?” He lifted
his gaze from the menu, and a set of two small, squinting eyes met
mine. A cold stare sent a chill down my neck.

“Three specials, and make 'em bigger than the
last time,” he growled, and returned his gaze back on the menu.

On my way to the kitchen, I saw Jake getting
out of manager's office, tucking his paycheck in his back pocket.
As he did so, his white shirt spread, revealing a hairy navel. Our
gazes met, and he nodded. I did the same, shaking of the image of
his navel from my mind.

House specials were lined up on the counter,
so I took three of them and went back to serve the obese gentleman.
I arranged them in front of him in a triangle shape. He took one
glimpse at the plates, and started yelling:

“What the hell is this?! I told you to make
'em bigger!” He pushed all three of them off the table. Plates came
crashing down, sending pieces of food all over the floor, and I
jerked back, hugging my tray.

“Is there a problem, sir” I heard Jake's
voice behind my back, but I was too afraid to leave my gaze from
the angry man. Jake put his hands protectively over my shoulders. I
was thankful for the gesture; it made me feel safer.

“You call these meals? These are kid sized,”
the man continued to yell.

“Calm down, sir,” Jake continued in a steady
voice. “It's none of my business what you think of our portions,
they're sized for normal people. But it is my business if you take
it out on this innocent girl.” Jake pushed me behind him. I was
surprised to see that my entire body could hide behind his
back.

“Are you saying I'm not normal?!” The man was
all red in his face, breathing heavily. “I'll sue your ass!”

“Sure you will,” Jake's voice remained calm.
“Do I need to call the police, or would you like to take it outside
with someone your own size?” Jake's fists clenched, and there was
no doubt in my mind he would use the obese man as a punching
bag.

The man mumbled something, and went for the
door, but Jake grabbed his shirt from the back, stopping him in
place. Shirt buttons burst, revealing a hideous ball of meat, and
hitting glass windows.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Jake
growled. Fear spread over obese man's face. “You were about to pay
and leave this lovely girl a
fat
tip.” The man nodded, sweat
beads rolling down his forehead. He pulled a fistful of cash from
his pocket, and put it in Jake's hand, then wobbled out the door.
Jake turned around, and said: “Here you go, kid,” handing me the
cash.

“Thank you,” was all I could say. I felt so
small, but safe. This paternal side of Jake made me reconsider my
view of him. He patted my head, and said: