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Created By

pastPayne

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/pastPayne/36428">Never Come Back -2-</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">2</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/pastPayne/36428"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/36428.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

0	A Recipe for Pain -8-
+ 3	A Recipe For Pain -7-
+ 2	Never Come Back -2-
+ 2	A Recipe for Pain -6-
+ 3	A Recipe For Pain -5-
+ 6	A Recipe for Pain -4-
+ 2	Never Come Back -1-
+ 4	Don't Come Back -Intro-
+ 3	A Recipe for Pain -4-
+ 6	A Recipe for Pain -3-
+ 4	A Recipe for Pain -2-
+ 2	A Recipe for Pain -1-
+ 2	A Recipe For Pain -Intro-
+ 2	An Occasional Someone -5-
+ 1	An Occasional Someone -4-
+ 1	An Occasional Someone -3-
+ 1	An Occasional Someone -2-
+ 1	An Occasional Someone -1-

Mike acted like he hadn't heard, and continued playing Call of Duty as if I hadn't spoken. Then again, he might not have heard me, he looked really into the game. I'd ask him later. Maybe.

I was tired, jet lag and old friends had taken a toll on me, so I pulled out the blanket Mike had given me and fell asleep.

Morning wasn't one of my favorite times, mostly because I had to wake up. I reflected on the pros of a nocturnal lifestyle and the sun glared at me through Mike's blinds. Today was the big day. Make or bend, so to speak. I really wanted this job, for several reasons. One of the foremost being that I might be able to find her again, and fix everything that I'd messed up. If it could be fixed. It would probably take copious amounts of begging and titanium strength duct tape to fix this break.

I had a quick breakfast, said bye to Mike, and headed over to my interview. I didn't have to sit in the lobby waiting for very long, and the interview went pretty well, I thought. I left feeling pretty good, and started walking back to Mike's, not in the mood for mass transit. I stopped at a little coffe shop on the way back. It looked fairly new, I didn't remeber seeing it when I'd lived here.

I walked in and headed over to the counter. There was a girl standing behind it, taking orders, and I stood patiently in line waiting my turn.

I'd been waiting for a couple minutes when I saw a girl coming out of the back room, back to me. She had shoulder length, bright red hair. She was wearing a black Beatles t-shirt, and torn jeans, and I knew before she even turned around what her face would look like. After all, I'd spent most of my senior year of high school searching it out.

I waited for her to turn around and see me, and I wondered what her reaction would be. I was betting, considering her last email to me, that it wouldn't be a good one. But I could always be wrong. 

She set down the box she was carrying and I watched with bated breath as she turned around, aching to see her face again. I watched as her emrald green eyes settled on me and widened in disbelief, and then her face went blank, and she acted as if she hadn't seen me, even though she knew I knew she had. I wanted to talk to her, alone, but she moved to the other register and started taking orders. I moved over to that line. the person in front of me oredered and got their latte, and then left. It was my turn.

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