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Fang POV

I reach my hand up to wipe my sweaty bangs out of my eyes. The stupid hat all employees are required to wear (apparently uniformity is a good thing) mashes them down onto my forehead and covers my eyes. I seriously hate this job.

I jump as the buzzer goes off, "politely," as the manager had put it, informing me that a customer is at the drive thru, ready to order. I sigh and move the headset's microphone back up to my chin.

"Welcome to McDonald's. May I take your order?"

"Big Mac, small fries, milkshake, and apple pie," a girl's voice answers. It sounds like she's smirking. "For here, please."

"Your total will be $6.51. Please drive to the next window."

Sighing, I automatically lean back to call out to the kitchen girls. "One Big Mac, small fries, milkshake, and an apple pie." I start to stand straight again when a loud squeal, well, squeals throughout the restaurant.

I lean back again to see the two newest workers, a blonde and a brunette whose names I never bothered to learn, playing a...hand game? They're singing the order I just told them.

Shaking my head in amazement and tilting forward, I grab a bag and toss some ketchups into it. Suddenly I freeze.

Did that girl say...for here?

Why yes, yes she did.

But maybe she was just in a hurry and didn't realize what she said or something. The blonde appears in front of me, as if by magic, and hands me the bag with the girl's order before skipping back to her station, hands waving above her head. "Okay then..." I mutter, extremely confuzzled.

The girl's car jerks to a stop in front of the window. Did it seriously take her this long to get to the window? Was she driving with the brakes on?

The window opens automatically and I lean out, handing the bag to her. Getting my first glimpse of her, I notice she has brown-blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a smirk. A strawberry blonde, blue-eyed, pale-faced kid sits in the passenger seat. Is he her boyfriend? Wait, why am I thinking this? What's wrong with me?

She takes the bag and the boy immediately snatches it from her. "You were supposed to get me two apple pies," he whines.

I look back at the screen where the cost of the meal stands out in big, block letters. What do these people think that I am, an idiot that can't read?

"$6.51, please." I say, cradling my hand out toward her. She reaches into a miniature, doodle-covered backpack and pulls out a handful of dollar bills before handing me seven of them. "Thanks..." she squints at my nametag, "Fang? Your name is seriously Fang?" She looks like she's trying not to laugh.

"No, my name is Frank and I have sucky handwriting. Yes, my name is Fang. You got a problem with that?"

She smirks. "Not one bit, Edward."

I frown, turning back to the cash register again. I get her change and reach out, holding a quarter, two dimes, and four pennies. She accepts it and turns back to her friend.

She's not moving. Why isn't she driving away?

"Um, excuse me, miss? You're supposed to leave now." That's why it's called a drive THRU.

"But I specifically said my order was for here."

And what do I say to that? "I will come and push your car into the street if I have to." I threaten.

"Go ahead." She turns around and starts eating her Big Mac.

Bringing my head back in, I turn to the employee back entrance that leads out to the drive thru lane. "Walker! What do you think you're doing? Your shift's not over for another hour!" the manager yells from his office. I jerk to a stop.


"No buts! Back to your station!"

Standing in the small space once again, I see the girl is still sitting there, calmly drinking her milkshake. The boy finished his pie ages ago and is staring intently at the girl's fries. Every once in a while he reaches for one, but the girl slaps his hand and he shrinks back.

I wait a little longer until the girl finally reaches the bottom of her milkshake. She painstakingly sucks the last few drips through the straw, then throws the garbage into the back seat.

"Thanks, Edward," she says, shoving a crumpled bill into my hand and stepping on the gas. As she drives away, a thought strikes me: Was she seriously old enough to drive?


As soon as we're out of earshot I burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face? This was your best idea yet!" I cackle.

Iggy grins. "You see, Max, I'm very good at annoying people. Why'd you give him more money?"

"Tip," I say. "I felt bad for the poor guy."

"Well, don't get in the habit of feeling bad for people," Iggy grins evilly. "I have something even better planned for tomorrow!"