The Lost Boy

“And what would you like to drink with that?” Monica smiles, pen poised over the pad of paper. The family orders their drinks and Monica promises that their order will be out soon.
As she’s walking back to give the order to the chef, she hears the little jingle of the front door opening. A regular steps inside looking worn out and sad.
She frowns. He’s usually so happy and bubbly, instead, his eyes dart around the diner before making his way to the booth farthest away from all the activity.
After dropping off the order slip, Monica makes her way over to the regular. He doesn’t look up when she stops at his table.
“Hello, I’m Monica, I’ll be your waitress today. What would you like to drink right away?” She says with rehearsed pep.
“Just a cup of coffee, please.” His voice is scratchy and he doesn’t even bother looking at her. She falters a bit before answering.
“Sure thing! I’ll bring it to you right away.” Walking around the counter, she quickly writes down his order and marks that it was already given to him. She slips the order pad and pencil back into her apron pocket.
“Hey, Monica, did you see the regular?” Monica’s coworker, Nora, elbows her in a hushed voice. Monica steals a glance over at him but he hasn’t moved an inch since he sat down.
“Yes, I’m serving him. “ She frowns, still watching him. He doesn’t give any indication that he hears the two girls whispering.
“He’s so weird today, right?”
“Nora!” She scolds quietly. The regular stiffens as their voices rise but Monica has already whipped her head back around at her coworker. Nora laughs. “I’m sure he’s just having an off day. We all have them.” Monica defends. Again, Nora laughs.
“Whatever.”
Rolling her eyes, Monica grabs one of the pots of coffee and heads towards the regular’s table. She flips one of the mugs over and pours a generous cup for him.
“Are you ready to order now, sir?” Monica asks cheerfully.
“Just the coffee is fine, thank you.” With trembling fingers he reaches out to grab the

mug and brings it up to his lips. “You can go now.” He dismisses, before sipping the black coffee.
“Right, sorry.” Monica blushes and turns to walk away with the coffee pot.
“You can call me Harry, by the way. I’m no sir.”
“Sorry, my bad.” After waiting for a few moments without reply, she returns to the counter to put the coffee pot back.
“Order up!” The chef rings the bell before returning to the grill. Monica grabs the order meant for the table that she served earlier. She divides the food amongst the hungry customers. Just as she’s getting ready to return the tray to the kitchen, one of the people at the table flag her down again.
“You forgot our drinks, lady.” Monica plasters on a forced smile.
“Of course, I’m very sorry. I’ll bring them right away.” Going back behind the counter, Monica grabs glasses and fills them under the various taps and sets them on the tray.
“Nora?”
“Hmm?” Nora hums boredly.
“Could you put in an order of fries for me?” Nora gives her a look similar to one someone would give someone else who grew another arm.
“Please? While I’m dropping off these drinks?” Monica sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. Groaning loudly, Nora fills out an order sheet and her practically new pad and sticks it up on the window for the chef. Monica thanks her with a sweet smile before returning to the table with the tray of glasses.
“I am very sorry for the wait.” She repeats as she hands out all of the drinks.
“Well it’s about time.” The same man from before grumbles. Pretending as if she didn’t hear that comment, she smiles and says that she hopes they have a good meal before skipping away. The chef hits his bell and calls “order up!” and Nora, who is leaning against the counter reading a magazine, shouts for Monica.
“I’m coming, Nora, I’m coming.” She huffs, hurrying up to the window. Picking up the order of fries and dropping off the tray, Monica heads towards the regular’s- Harry’s- table.
It’s weird that he’s just…sitting. Like, he usually is reading something or talking with

whoever’s on shift. She sets the basket of fries down on his table.
“French fries on me… because it seems you’re having a bad day.” Harry stiffens but doesn’t say anything so Monica takes that as her cue to leave. She returns that tray and meets Nora behind the counter.
“Oh man.” She chuckles.
“He really doesn’t like you today.” The two watch as he slides the basket of fries away from him with one finger. Monica frowns but Nora laughs before returning to her magazine. “What did you do to him?” She asks distantly as she flips through a few pages.
“Nothing!” Monica defends a bit too loudly. Nora only hums, not listening anymore.
Sighing, Monica grabs a clean rag and a bottle of disinfectant from under the counter to wipe down all of the booths that are unoccupied.
“We’re closing up in ten minutes!” Nora announces loudly and shoots a glance pointedly at the noisy family who were rude about their drinks.
That’s what Monica has always liked about Nora. She always scared the customers out right before they closed so they never had to stay after too long. But it seems that they didn’t even hear her, or rather, didn't care as they continue their loud conversation.
Monica glances over at Harry who, as it seems, hasn’t moved at all since pushing the fries away. Finishing up wiping tables down, she goes into the kitchen where she drops her dirty rag into the bucket with the others.
“Good night, Miss Monica.” The chef, whose name is Michael, waves.
“You’re leaving so early, Michael?” He scratches the back of his neck, glancing away. He is always the last one out, closing up.
“I’m sorry, Miss Monica, it’s my wife and it’s our anniversary and- well, you know. It’s late and I want to treat her to something nice before we’re off to bed.” Monica smiles.
“I understand.”
“Just put the dishes in the sink for tomorrow. I’ll get them cleaned up in the morning, alright?” He says as he begins to walk out.
“Will do. Good night.”
“Good night. Don’t stay out too late, Miss Monica.”

“I’ll do my best.” They exchange friendly smiles before parting ways. Monica grabs the noisy family’s order sheet and writes their total on it before dropping it off at their table. By that time, Nora is already slipping her coat on too.
“Seriously? You’re leaving me too?” Monica whines.
“Don’t whine, it’s unattractive.” Nora grins, glancing back at Harry. Monica’s cheeks go up in flames.
“Bye, regular!” Nora calls past her coworker. He glances up, his eyes hard. She flashes him a toothy grin before lightly punching Monica on the shoulder. “Good luck closing up, Monica.” She can’t tell if Nora was being sincere or not but all she can picture is that cold look Harry sent Nora.
What was up with that?
Nora slips out the door with her magazine in one hand and her purse in the other. Monica quickly forgets about that look Harry gave Nora as the annoying family packs up their things, pays for their meal, and leaves.
Monica hurries over to clean up only to realize they didn’t leave a tip. She scrunches her nose in distaste, figuring it was because she forgot about their drinks.
Bastards.
She stacks the dishes and teeters all the way into the kitchen where she sets them as carefully as she can into the sink. Sighing loudly, she returns with a rag and the bottle of disinfectant to wipe down the table.
“I heard you talking about me with your friend.” His voice startles her. She freezes and peers up but he’s not looking at her. “You defended me… why?” She opens her mouth to speak but the words stick in her throat. “You were right, though.” He says calmly, taking a drink of his coffee.
“Excuse me?” She squeaks.
“About having an off day.” He clarifies.
“I-” She starts.
“Come sit.”
“I have to close up.”
“Then go lock the door and come sit down.” Strangely, she does what the regular

asked of her. She sits across from him, feeling sort of hazy for some unknown reason.
“I never asked your name.” Is all she can think to say to him.
“I told you earlier, remember?” He looks her in the eye. She almost cowers under his powerful stare but resists.
“Harry.” She finally remembers. He nods.
“I am the one who never asked for your name.”
“Monica.” She replies sheepishly, feeling silly.
“Monica.” He says slowly, toying with the word.
Surely he must have heard my name many times throughout his time here, why ask now?Monica realizes, blinking away the hazy feeling.
But she’s interrupted by her stomach loudly grumbling in protest of the smell of Harry’s French fries.
“You can have them. You might as well since you paid for them.”
“Really?” Harry nods. Monica smiles as she begins to hungrily shove them in her mouth.
“You wanted to know why I am different today, right?” Monica pauses, watching him watching her. He’s paler than usual and trembling and he keeps giving her this look like he’s going to jump her.
”Are you okay?” She asks quietly. Harry peers down into his cup of coffee.
“No.” He admits.
“Why? Did something happen?”
“It’s just that-” He grits his teeth, taking in a sharp breath. “Some days I just want to die because every day seems so pointless.” Monica is silent for a while, thoughts whizzing by in her head.
“I- It gets better, Harry, I promise!” She says a bit too loudly, too quickly, too desperately.
“I really don’t think it will.” He sighs. “I just wish I could sleep for a few days, you know?” Monica nods eagerly with wide eyes.
“I understand.”

“It would be so relaxing opposed to being awake 24/7.”
“It’s that bad?” Monica asks with wide eyes. Harry nods in response.
“I miss my old life so much.” He sighs.
“Maybe it’s best if you quit that job, then.” Monica finally says. There’s a long pause before Harry bursts into hysterical laughter. “What?” She asks, now feeling uncertain. He continues to laugh. “I-I thought you were talking about how you can’t sleep and how you hate your life because of your demanding job?” Monica poses this as a question. This only sends Harry into another fit of laughter.
It’s nice to see him laughing again, even though I don’t understand what the joke is.
“That’s not it at all.” He finally gets out after calming down. “I’m a vampire.”

Notes