Raven
LonelyLogan69: Your hair is cute in a ponytail. It suits you.
I keep staring at his latest message and my heart won’t stop thundering inside my rib cage. Like bats. Bats trapped in a cave as someone swings a fiery torch.
Flap. Flap. Flap.
They scatter and screech but have nowhere to go.
PoetPrincess99: I was swamped with customers. I don’t remember seeing you.
I hope he wasn’t there when I fell. One of the vapid cheerleaders—one who I hate for many, many reasons—sat in my section today. Spilled her water all over the floor and didn’t tell me. When I rushed past her table, I slipped and landed on my ass hard. I’m pretty sure I cracked my tailbone.
LonelyLogan69: I was there. I’m sorry you fell. Are you okay?
Heat burns up my throat and settles on my cheeks. When Whitney and one of her mindless sheep were sitting in my section, I was frazzled beyond belief. I wish I had paid better attention to the other patrons.
PoetPrincess99: I’ll be okay. I’m embarrassed you saw that.
LonelyLogan69: I was surprised you were still smiling when you got back up. I would’ve cried.
I smile on the inside. A true smile. One only I see.
PoetPrincess99: It wasn’t a real smile. They’re never real.
I’m not sure why I just told him this, but I vowed I’d let someone know me. Even this good-looking Internet stranger.
LonelyLogan69: What do you mean?
PoetPrincess99: I mean that they don’t know me. They don’t know who I am on the inside…just what I let them see on the outside.
LonelyLogan69: Can you send me a real smile?
My chest squeezes, which makes the bats go even wilder.
Flap. Flap. Flap.
Without thinking too hard, I turn the camera to face me and let a real one slip out. I send it to him before I change my mind.
I smile on the outside. A real smile. The smile I don’t give to others. The smile I usually keep for myself.
LonelyLogan69: I think you should smile…really smile…more often.
That makes me smile bigger. Wider. Brighter.
Someone beats on my door and I nearly cry out. Quickly, I turn off the phone and lean against my pillows.
“Come in,” I squeak out.
The door creaks open and Dad stumbles in. Sometimes, when he’s really drunk, he likes to sleep in my bed with me. It makes me uncomfortable but then he murmurs how much he misses Mom and guilt consumes me. I let him hold me because it beats the alternative. I’d much rather feel awkward with my dad in my bed than feel horrified when he beats my brother’s ass.
He sheds his shirt and kicks off his shoes. Without a word, he slides into bed beside me. Immediately, he’s snoring logs with his heavy arm draped over my waist.
LonelyLogan69: I know all about fake smiles, though.
This piques my curiosity.
PoetPrincess99: You do?
LonelyLogan69: I’m expected to always have my face on as my mom says. It’s annoying because I’m not always happy. I don’t want to smile just because we see the mayor and his wife in town. I certainly don’t smile when I see him at the country club with his mistress.
PoetPrincess99: Just be thankful you have a mom. And ew…the mayor sometimes comes into the diner. He’s an ass.
I feel eyes on me and dart my gaze to the doorway. Rome stares at me with his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw clenches and unclenches. Disgust ripples from him as he takes in the way our father hugs me in his sleep.
I flash him a smile. The smile the others love. The fake smile. The smile I have perfected. The one Dad likes. The one Rome hates.
“Old man, you’ve got a bed.” Rome seethes. His lip is swollen and split. A dark circle is forming around one eye. I guess I can’t stop them all no matter how hard I try.
I shake my head at him. “Stop. It’s fine. He just misses Mom.”
Rome’s eyes flicker with emotion before he hardens his stare. “It’s not fine, Raven. It’s fucking sick.”
I swallow and nod. “It’ll be okay. He’s just sleeping. Dad doesn’t hurt me. Get some rest. Don’t you have to be up at the shop early?”
He stares for a beat longer before storming out of my room and slamming his bedroom door behind him. Dad startles but doesn’t wake from his slumber.
I look down at my phone and am happy that Logan has responded.
LonelyLogan69: He’s probably a terrible tipper too.
PoetPrincess99: He is. The worst. By the way, my name is Raven.
LonelyLogan69: I know…I saw your nametag.
PoetPrincess99: Is your name really Logan?
LonelyLogan69: If I told you my real name, I’d have to kill you.
A small chuckle escapes me. A real one. A laugh that’s only for Logan.
PoetPrincess99: I’ll learn your real name eventually. Until then, good night, Lonely Logan.
LonelyLogan69: I’m not lonely right now.
At this, I beam and my face aches from the sensation. Smiling hurts.
PoetPrincess99: Me neither. I like the feeling. I like it a lot.
I plug in my phone and flick off the lamp. Dad reeks of hard liquor but thankfully is completely passed out. I’m able to nudge him enough to rouse him. He rolls over with his back to me. I start to fall asleep with Logan’s picture on my mind and a real smile on my face but then my phone buzzes again.
LonelyLogan69: Do you ever feel like fate pushes two people together on purpose? Like it knows one isn’t as strong as the other?
I stare at the phone, my stomach hollowing out. All the bats drop dead inside my empty heart.
No flapping. No flapping.
Those words dig themselves deep into my heart and I selfishly wish they were truly meant for me. Unfortunately, I’m smart enough to know better.
PoetPrincess99: I do.
I don’t smile. I don’t smile at all. Not for me. Not for him. Not for anyone.