The Spider and The Hummingbird

There was something about the air that night that loomed over your senses. It had been hot, a record temperature every day for the past week, but that evening had a chill that crept over your skin, threatening to pierce you to the bone.

Clementine tied the lacy apron around her waist as the sounds of a bustling diner invaded the staff room. The cheap, warped mirror on the back of the door allowed her to examine her uniform as she applied the finishing touches, adjusting the collar on her white blouse and patting down the skirt of the bright pink pinafore. In a regular setting this kind of outfit would strike her as a little tacky, but when she walked out into the backdrop of the 50s-inspired diner the attire complemented her perfectly. Clementine adored anything retro, and it was this fascination that made her apply for the job here. She loved the decor and the uniforms, though she lamented the fact she was barely paid minimum wage.

"Em, get out here! Booths 4 and 7 have been waiting to order since, like, forever!" the voice of her energetic coworker reverberated through the room. I'm not supposed to start for another 10 minutes, Clementine thought as she sighed quietly to herself. Looking into the mirror again, she adjusted her lipstick before responding.

"I'm on it!"

Taking a deep breath and gathering her notepad and pen, she slipped them into her apron pocket before opening the door to face the busy restaurant. Over behind the counter she could see Trish, the one who had called out to her, dazzling customers with her charm and gorgeous smile while she sorted the take-away orders. Behind her was the window to the kitchen, glowing with the flames from the grill that filled the whole place with the mouthwatering aromas of artery-clogging burgers and fries. The glass door of the entrance opened as another couple sought refuge from the bitter evening air, a gust of the cool breeze following behind them. It was no wonder the diner was busier than usual tonight, Em noted. This restaurant had a way of warming both the body and soul. An elderly man from a booth by the entrance began to wave to her, pointing to his menu. She put on her patented waitress smile and got to work.

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By 9pm the dinner rush had dissipated, only a few straggling regulars remaining to fill the time before closing at 11. Clementine sat in a booth on her break, digging into a burger meal as she chatted with Trish.

"I love what you've done with your hair, by the way!" Trish grinned, her hand gesturing to Clementine's new do. "The pink really suits you! I've seen so many girls with hot pink hair but the pastel you've gone for looks so good. Definitely better than the ginger."

The back-handed compliment was nothing unusual from Trish, but Clementine knew she meant well.

"Oh thank you, that's very sweet. I love what you've done with your, uh... Nails. Did you get them done again?"

"Yes I did! Thank you for noticing! You know I get them done every other week," Trish pushed her glittery fingers closer to Em's as she went to pick up a fry, as if comparing them. "You should join me next time, get a professional to do yours for once! Trust me, they'll look so good."

"Oh that's so kind of you, but I couldn't intrude."

"No, no it's no intrusion at all! I'd love to glam you up a bit. The hair is a great start but you have so much more potential, Em. How are you going to get a boyfriend if you don't put in the effort?"

Clementine looked up to Trish, confused by the sudden interest in her love life. "Excuse me?"

"Oh I'm sorry, I mean if you're into girls that's cool too. But how are you going to find a boyfriend or a girlfriend if you don't put in the effort to look good?"

"That's not what I-"

"Em, you're adorable, but when was the last time someone gave you their number?"

"Well the other week I almost-"

"I got 3 numbers just tonight. Of course, my boyfriend hates that, but it happens all the time for me. Don't you want to get laid?"

Clementine sighed and kept her mouth shut. It was true that she was getting a little lonely. Although she had her house-mate and plenty of friends at her uni, she hadn't been in a romantic relationship for years - since high school, even. Trish made it look so easy, but she was a curvaceous goddess while Clementine saw herself as more of a sub-par carrot. Well, with her hair done now maybe she was more like sub-par fairy floss. Although she didn't entirely buy into Trish's beauty-is-power outlook on the world, Em had to admit that she was getting a lot more results. It had been so long that just thinking about going on a date made her blush.

"There, see? I knew it! You totally need to get laid! Alright girl, I'm going to help you. You're kind of shy and stuff so I know it will be hard but I'm here to be your backup! The next cute guy that walks in here will be your target."

Clementine looked up to her with a worried expression. She knew that determined look, and she knew Trish was entirely serious about making her pounce on the next unsuspecting customer. Trish laughed.

"Don't worry, I said cute guy."

Clementine barely had a chance to interject before the tinkling of the entrance bell danced through the restaurant. Both girls glanced to the door, one with alarm and the other with excited curiosity. An oxford-laden foot walked through the door, followed by a trouser'd leg and a blue dress-shirt. The man must have been at least 6", with thick blonde hair effortlessly swept back and a jawline that had been chiseled from marble by the world's finest sculptor. He could have been a model, and he would have been Clementine's type if it weren't for one glaring fault. He peered around the diner before his eyes rested on their booth and he strolled over, flashing his most dazzling smile.

"Well hello, buttercup," he winked, "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Well hello, Miles. You only made me wait, like, forever!" Trish jumped from her seat and embraced him, her arms wrapping around his neck as they kissed deeply. Clementine's face reddened while she looked down at what was left of her fries, not one to enjoy the spectacle of a prolonged PDA. After what felt like an awkward eternity, the couple finally broke off the snog and Trish spoke to her once more.

"Sorry hun, you'll just have to wait for the next cute guy. I'll see you at home, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then if you're up. I'm on until close so I'll be there late."

"Don't worry, I'll leave the porch light on," Trish leaned on the table, lowering her voice to a whisper, "and even though your wing-woman won't be here, you'd better talk to the next hot guy you see and get a number, or an email, anything, I beg of you!"

"Geez, alright, alright. You two go, I'm sure you have a lot to do before I get back."

Trish grinned, glancing back to Miles, her eyes examining him from top to bottom. "Oh boy, that is an understatement."

"Alright you, let's head out. I'm sure Em has to get back to work," Miles smiled, lightheartedly tapping Trish on the butt before turning to walk out the door with a wave. "See you later, Em! Don't pay too much mind to what this one says."

"I never do! Later, guys." Clementine waved them off with a smile, waiting in the booth to watch the headlights of his Corvette take off down the quiet road. Glancing at the neon-lit clock above the front counter, she sighed and cleared her things from the table, her break just a minute from ending. She loved that girl, but damn, there was never a moment's rest around her.

Setting herself back into work-mode, she began to wipe behind the counter. At this time of night, the only customers were middle-aged men on their way back from work and young teens plotting schemes to solve the various mysteries that come with living in a small town. Or maybe they were planning where they'll go vandalize next. Em liked to think it was the former. Regardless, after all of Trish's talk, she didn't account for the fact that hot, single guys didn't just walk into this place out of the blue. It was unheard of. Completely outlandish. And even if they did, how would she approach them? What could she say?

She scrubbed hard at the countertop, deep in thought, completely oblivious as the chime of the entrance bell jingled through the diner.

"Excuse me, Miss, do you think you could help me?"