Date: Wed, 22 Feb 2017 10:05:40 -0600
From: Kurt King <kingkurt1339@gmail.com>
Subject: The New Life of Cal King Chapter 8

	This story may contain sexual acts between males, persons below the
age of consent, and relatives. If this offends you or is illegal for you to
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	This story is fictional and entirely the work of the author's
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	Don't forget that you can always contact me to give me feedback! I
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	My other story can be found at the following link:
	NLXK:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-new-life-of-xander-king/

	As always – don't forget to donate to Nifty at
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the archive free!

	This story is not a quick jack-off story. If you are looking for
that, you would be best going to another story. If you are interested in
not just the sex, but also the lives of the characters and their romances
and dramas, then read on, and I hope you enjoy it!

	In the last chapter, we found out why Cal doesn't like Christmas,
Emily reveals she's pregant, as Cal had suspected, Cam tells Cal he needs
to work on emotion, and Greyson hangs out with Travis. There's been a fair
bit of a timeskip, going from Christmas Day/weekend to June eleventh, where
the next major events (relevant to NLCK) occur.

	Anyway, on to the chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

~~Chapter Eight – Smoothie~~

[Cal]

	As I'm eating my lunch, a guy I've never seen before enters the
break room. He's probably only two or three years older than me, with
shaggy brown hair, the greenest eyes I've ever seen, and is dressed in
jeans and a tee. He just stands there, staring at me, not saying anything
at all.

	"Can I help you?" I ask, and he just keeps staring at me. "Hello?"
He gestures with his hands, and after a moment, I realize he's using sign
language. "Sorry, I never learned sign language."

	He stops as soon as I say that, looks frustrated, and then leaves
the room. A moment later, Amy pokes her head in here.

	"Yes?"

	"Was looking for Ethan," she says. "He left the washing room a
couple of minutes ago and hasn't returned."

	"Is he mute?" I ask.

	"No, why?"

	"Oh," I say. "Some guy was just in here, using sign language. He-"

	"That's probably Ethan," she says. "Brown hair, green eyes that pop
out of his head?"

	"Yeah."

	"That's him," she says. "I'm surprised he was trying to communicate
with you, as bad as his brother-in-law is, he's far worse. We hired him on
his fourteenth birthday, since he's home-schooled and incredibly bright,
and it gives him practical experience in a job he can do that doesn't
overwhelm him. I wonder what he was trying to say. You don't happen to know
where he went, do you?"

	"No," I answer, and then he reenters the room, this time putting a
pad of paper in front of me. "How did the court date go yesterday?" I look
at him, and he nods. "Unless I go to the prison, I probably won't ever see
either of them again."

	He claps his hands, looking excited, then leaves. I look at Amy,
confused as to what just happened.

	"That amazes me just as much as you," she says. "It took two years
for him to finally try to talk to Emily. He only just recently spoke to her
verbally, and that was to say 'congrats' before disappearing back into his
station. Enjoying your day off of school?"

	I had court yesterday for the final decision on Mom and her
husband, and since it's now summer, there's no school. I've been here since
this morning, having to come in early due to Emily having morning sickness
lasting more than eight hours. I'll be closing, too, and I'm training a new
associate, a guy fresh out of high school.

	"Good luck training the new guy," Amy says to me. "According to
David, he thinks he can remain friendly no matter what, but definitely
showed dislike when David brought up gays. Didn't let him know about the
mostly-gay staff, or the lesbian head chef."

	She flashes me a grin, then goes back to the kitchen. I finish my
lunch, letting Braden know I'm done so he can go back to the kitchen once
his one customer is done.

	It's a really hot day, so we're pretty slow, due to people not
wanting to walk five minutes to get to us after they park.

	Just before four, a guy around eighteen and wearing all-black shows
up. He's got brown hair and eyes, and I can tell immediately it's the new
guy, but...

	"Hello!" I greet him when he walks in. "Welcome to the Wolf's
Dragon. My name is Cal. How can we help you today?"

	"Gavin," he introduces himself. "I'm the new host."

	"Go get clocked in, put on your apron and hat, and get ready to
work. Make sure you wash your hands before coming out here, and wherever
I'm at, make sure you're there. You'll be watching me for a little bit, and
then I'll be shadowing you. Since we're slower today, due to the heat,
we'll probably not need to separate much."

	He goes and gets clocked in, returning with his apron and hat on.

	"Where's Emily?" He asks. "I'm supposed to be training with her."

	"She's pregnant," I say. "You'll be training with me. While in the
dining area, you need to be smiling at all times. Every time we catch you
not smiling, we'll charge you five dollars, and for every minute after that
that you haven't started smiling again, it's an additional dollar. It adds
up fast. Hello! Welcome to the Wolf's Dragon! My name is Cal, and this is
Gavin. Please forgive any errors or delays, as he's currently in
training. How may we help you today?"

	"Hey, Cal," Matt skips over to the counter, Liam following
behind. "Table for two, please, and congrats on the ruling."

	"Thanks, Matt," I grab a couple of menus and silverware rolls. "Saw
your newest video, looked awesome."

	"Thanks!" He grins at me. "It was so much fun to film. I've
gathered up my minions and gained a few more, and we're going to be making
a mystery series."

	"Let's get you seated, Matt," I laugh, then lead him to a table and
seat him and Liam.

	Matt lets Liam in first, then sits down right beside him, literally
squishing his boyfriend against the side of the booth for a moment before
giving him a kiss and a cheeky grin, then sliding over a little so Liam has
space. From the way Gavin shifts and the expression on his face, he's not
happy.

	"Would you two like to order your drinks now?" I ask.

	"Make it strong, and make it quick!" Matt says, and I smack him in
the back of the head with my order book. "Hey!"

	"I'm charging you extra," I say.

	"Liam's paying."

	"Am not!" Liam pushes him. "I paid last time!"

	While the two of them start bickering/flirting, I go to the drinks
station and start showing Gavin how to prepare the drinks.

	"They didn't order their drinks," he says.

	"They'll be flirting for a bit," I say. "And they always order the
same drinks. Amy! I need a tall chocolate milk!"

	"Get it yourself!" She yells back.

	"That would require me having chocolate milk!"

	"Tall chocolate milk?" He asks as she goes into the fridge.

	"Matt doesn't drink anything carbonated," I answer, and Amy returns
with a gallon of milk, handing it to me. "But he loves chocolate milk and
orange juice. He always gets the milk first, then switches to drinking
orange juice after two glasses. Thank you, Amy. If you ever take their
orders, don't be surprised by how much the two of them pack away,
especially Matt."

	We leave the drinks station, and I set the glasses down on the
table.

	"Dr. Pepper for you," I set that in front of Liam. "And a chocolate
milk for you," that goes in front of Matt. "Would the two of you like to
order your appetizers now?"

	In response, Matt picks up his glass of milk and drinks the entire
thing, then holds it out to me.

	"Where's my chocolate milk, wench?"

	I smack him with my order book again.

	"Liam! Save me!" Matt grabs Liam's arm and mocks fear.

	"You asked for that!" Liam laughs. "Can we get one of each
appetizer, please?"

	"Double up on the breasticks, wench!" Matt exclaims, then moves as
if to hide behind Liam, who smacks him. "Hey! You're supposed to be my
shield!"

	"I ain't protecting you from him," Liam says. "You bring it, you
deal with it."

	"You are soooo gonna be unhappy tonight," Matt teases. "We're going
raw."

	Liam mocks horror at that, but I think it goes over Gavin's head,
he definitely doesn't like gays.

	I go back to the drinks station and call out the appetizers, and
Amy laughs.

	"It's Matt and Liam, isn't it?"

	"Yup," I say. "Gavin, when you get a new drink, always use a new
glass, never the same one they used before. That's a code violation."

	"Are they in here all the time?" He asks as I start the new cup.

	"Every Friday," I nod. "Though Matt sometimes comes in on his
own. He's going on some big trip across the world in a few days, so we
probably won't see him for awhile. Liam might pop in from time to time,
though I only ever see him in here with Matt."

	"How can you stand them?"

	"Pardon?"

	"Having gay customers?"

	"You do know that David's gay, right?" I ask. "And that Garret and
Braden, two of the chefs, are married to each other, and that Amy's a
lesbian, and that Garrets brother is, right?"

	"What are you, May, and Emily?" He asks. "You're the hosts, right?"

	"Emily's straight, pretending to be married to a guy, and
pregnant," I say. "May's straight, I think. No one's sure, but she doesn't
set off any gaydars."

	"And you?"

	"Got a problem with gays," I say. "You won't last long unless you
learn to deal with it and hide it. The last homophobe who tried doing
something about us welcoming gays with open arms ended up with my foot in
his face and his crotch."

	I bring the chocolate milk out to Matt, who promptly drains it.

	"More!"

	"You're such a kid," I roll my eyes.

	"Dude," Liam says. "You're going to have to pee so bad by the time
we leave here."

	"We're surrounded by woods," Matt says. "I'll just pee on a tree."

	Liam smacks him, and the bell rings. I greet this customer
properly, I've never seen them before. After I deliver their drinks, the
first batch of Matt's appetizers are ready, so I set them out on the table,
then take the other table's order of appetizers.

	"I need more orange juice, wench!" Matt yells as I'm seating
another customer.

	"What?" The customer looks at Matt in confusion.

	"Someone fed him too much sugar," I explain. "He'll crash in about
four million years."

	The next hour passes, and Gavin really is shocked by how much food
Matt packed away. Especially when Matt orders one of each dessert for
himself, and his boyfriend just orders a slice of apple pie. Should have
warned him that Matt has a severe sweet tooth.

	As the day passes, we average around four customers in the building
at once, though we do go up to eight at one point. I let Gavin handle a few
after a couple of hours, and he does alright, though does goof up a few
times. Matt and Liam stick around for a long time, they always take three
hours when they're here. Part of that's just because of how much food they
order, part of it is because Matt can't sit still or be calm at all. But
his checks are always around two hundred dollars or more, so it's not as if
he's wasting our time.

	"What do we do with tips?" Gavin asks as we're clearing Matt's
table. "My old job, we kept them in our order book."

	"The box in the drinks station with your name on it," I
explain. "Put your tips in there. At the end of your shift, the manager on
duty will count them out, record it, then give it to you. Tips here tend to
be on the heavier side, partly because of our prices, partly because of our
service, and partly because of our clientele, so keeping them in the order
books can be a bit dangerous."

	"Oh," he says. "Okay. Do you-that looked like five twenties."

	"Matt tips heavily."

	"That's half the ticket."

	"I've gotten a seventy-percent tip before," I say. "I've also
gotten a tip bigger than the ticket. Like I said, our customers tip pretty
well, our regulars more so than anyone else. Business group, I'll handle
them."

	"Huh?"

	"The customers who just came in," I walk back to the drinks
station. "I'll be with you in just one moment, sirs."

	I quickly add my tips to the box and shove the dishes into the
washing station, then return to the group of four men in suits.

	"Hello!" I greet them. "Welcome to the Wolf's Dragon! My name's
Cal. How can we help you today?"

	"Hello, Cal," Mr. Scott greets me. "Table for four, please."

	"Right this way, sir," I grab the items and lead him to a
table. "Would you like to order your drinks now?"

	Business groups tend to tip well, particularly when it's a
wealthier business group. The four men sitting at that table are each the
heads of a wealthy business. Mr. Darhk is a lawyer, Mr. Mason is an
investor whose wife is a realtor, Mr. Scott is the head of a pharmaceutical
company, and Mr. Janes runs a gaming enterprise. None of them are
low-class, but sit at the top of the food chain in this town. They do more
than just that, they all own their own stores and companies, real estate,
tech, and more.

	Usually, it's a party of five, but it looks like Mr. Weston isn't
going to be around. He's the top of the top in this town, and even owns a
private, all-boys school called Whiteoak Academy here in town. Most of its
students are bi or gay, but it focuses hugely on academics, sports, and
other extracurricular activities. He's the father of Jake, the gay boy I
met when I first started working here.

	Thinking of Jake, I wonder where he and Zack have been, I haven't
seen them since last year, yet I always work on their date nights. I asked
Emily, and she said she hasn't seem them since school let out for
Christmas, either.

	One of the reasons a business group differs from regular customers
here is that, when in a smaller group like this, they take longer to order,
but when they do, they order everything at once, and then, throughout their
meal, they really only need drink refills, other than when we drop the next
part of their meal off, and order their desserts as we're clearing their
plates. A few steps are eliminated. They always take longer to clear,
though, as they talk business while they're here. Another way they vary is
that they tip the chefs. I've never served a business group that didn't tip
the chefs, and Emily said that she rarely ever has. Not sure how it works
at other restaurants, but at the Wolf's Dragon, business groups follow that
pattern every single time.

	"What do you think of adoption?" Mr. Scott asks me as I'm serving
their dessert.

	"Pardon?" I ask.

	"Adoption," he says. "What are your thought son it?"

	"Depends," I say. "It isn't for everyone, but if I had the choice
of adopting someone, I'd probably do it, if I felt they were right for me."

	One thing I know about Mr. Scott is that he and his wife are unable
to conceive a child. I guess he's considering adoption, now.

	"There's this boy," he says. "That we've been looking at for awhile
now. In a few weeks, the adoption paperwork will finally be finalized, and
we can take him home. He's a quiet kid, but very, very sweet. His name's
Alexander, but he goes by Xander. Want to see a picture of him?"

	"Sure," I say, and he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it for
a moment before holding up a picture of the cheesecake boy looking very
unhappy while staring at the camera. "Cheesecake boy."

	That came out involuntarily.

	"Cheesecake boy?" He looks confused.

	"Sorry," I say. "That's what we call him, we've never been able to
get him to talk before. He comes in every now and then on a Saturday,
between four and five. The last few Saturdays, he's been in here, which is
rare for him, since he doesn't have a pattern or consistency to his
arrivals. So his name's Xander, huh? Glad to hear he's getting adopted, I
think you'll make a great father."

	"Thanks," he smiles. "Why do you call him the cheesecake boy?"

	"He comes in," I say. "Orders a slice of cheesecake to go, pays for
it, then leaves. We found out after Christmas that he just goes and sits on
the wall of our parking lot to eat it. He seems frightened of people."

	"I've noticed that, too," Mr. Scott nods. "I've tried introducing
myself a couple of times, and he just jumps and bolts back to his
room. Apparently, that's pretty normal for him, but they said that if he's
going to a new home, he'll be fine with being with us. I'm hoping a more
stable environment than an orphanage will work for him, they said he's had
severe anxiety problems since he was little, and think it's due to the
instability of the situation."

	"We were going to adopt him," Mr. Mason says. "My son, Finn, saw
him one day, and then Karma was with me while we were visiting the
orphanage, and both of them wanted us to adopt him. It was until we were
talking just now that I learned that Trey and Linda were adopting
him. Finn's going to be crushed, he seems to really like the boy."

	"I think," Mr. Scott says. "Finn has a crush on him."

	I've only seen Finn once before, a few months ago. He's an albino,
and I'm not sure what to make of him. He wears white or faded to almost
white clothes on purpose, just to give the impression that he's a ghost. He
also usually refuses to wear sunglasses while he's outside, even though,
with his condition, his eyes are extremely sensitive to light, to the point
where it gives him migraines just being out in the sun for a few minutes.

	They go back to talking, so I go back to working. As always, they
leave a generous tip, as well as a tip for the chefs. Supposedly, other
restaurants don't have such nice business groups, but apparently, some
incident a few years ago prompted the tipping standard for businesses at
this restaurant.

	No one will tell me what happened, and I really, really want to
know.

	"I've got a customer," Gavin approaches me. "Who says he wants to
talk to you."

	"Where at?"

	"That table," he points to a table that has Cam sitting at it.

	"Table Seventeen," I say. "And never point to a table, state its
number. If you don't know it, look at the edge of the table, where it's
embossed."

	I walk past him over to Cam, who stands up and gives me a quick
kiss on the lips.

	"How are you doing, babe?" He asks.

	"Busy," I answer. "What's up?"

	"What time do you get off?"

	"Close," I answer. "Emily called in sick, so I had to come in
early, and I'm training the new guy right now, too."

	"That sucks," he gives me another kiss. "How'd the court date go?"

	"It went fine," I answer. "Won't be seeing them again for a long
time, unless I ever decide to visit them, which won't happen."

	"The new guy's making a face of total disgust right now."

	"He's homophobic," I say. "He'll deal. I've got to get back to
work."

	"I'll pick you up when you get off," he gives me another kiss.

	The rest of the shift is busy, with people coming out as the day
cools off, and around ten, I hear someone arguing with Gavin.

	"I demand to talk to a manager!" The man demands.

	"I'm the acting manager," I arrive at the table. "What's the
problem, sir?"

	"What are you, a kid?"

	"No, I'm a human."

	"What else would you be?"

	"You asked me if I was a goat," I state. "I was simply informing
you that I am human. I also don't like the insult, comparing me to a
goat. What's the issue, sir?"

	"No way you're a manager," he glares at me. "You're too young."

	"I'll be right back," I say, then walk to the kitchens. "Amy,
there's this customer demanding to speak to a manager, and won't tell me
what's going on."

	"One moment," she finishes what she's doing, then passes the
kitchen off to Garret before following me to the table. "How can I help
you, sir?"

	The man takes in Amy's jacket, which is covered in food particles,
and pales for a moment. Some of the food matter is blood. We do get our
meat fresh.

	"My wife's allergic to carrots," the man says. "And this is our
first time coming here. I asked the waiter if the stir fry had carrots in
it, and he told me it didn't, so she ordered it. It had carrots in it. We
had to send it back and order something else, and the rest of our food got
cold. He's served us the wrong drink three times, and he served us the
wrong salad. Now, he's telling us you don't have a cherry apple pie, when I
was told by a friend that she loves your cherry apple pie. I can't believe
this level of incompetence."

	"I'm sorry," Amy makes an apologetic, but unsure, face. "I'm
actually new here, I don't really know what to do. Let me ask the manager,"
she looks at me. "Cal, what do we do?"

	The look on the man's face at that is priceless. Mental note: Amy
likes fruity candles and candles scented as sugar cookie or vanilla. Buy
her one. Or two. Or five.

	"We offer," I say. "To play him the recording of everything that's
been said at his table tonight, to verify exactly what he ordered. However,
I did hear bits and pieces of the conversation, and know that he's being
honest, here. Amy, could you get him four slices of the cherry apple pie,
with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side?" I look back to the man as
Amy returns to the kitchen. "I do apologize for the inconvenience, Gavin is
relatively new to our restaurant, having only just started working
today. As such, he's unfamiliar with our menu, and the cherry apple pie is
on our secret menu. I do apologize for the inconvenience, and I'll be
comping your desserts for you, when it's time to pay. Gavin, you can clear
the dishes. Do you have the correct drinks right now?"

	"No," he says. "This is Coke when it's supposed to be Dr. Pepper,
the root beer tastes like diet, and the sparkling water tastes like
Sprite."

	"Sparkling water's in bottles," I look at Gavin, then back to the
man. "Let me fix your drinks for you, we'll be comping them as well, and
don't worry, you won't be charged for the stir fry, since that was our
error."

	I collect his cups and go to the drinks station, sending them
through to Ethan before grabbing a tray and making new drinks, removing the
cap to the sparkling water, returning to the table and setting down the
drinks.

	"Here you go," I say. "Again, I do apologize for that, he should
have come and got me if he didn't know if the stir fry had something. Here
comes Amy with the pie."

	"Here you go," Amy sets the pie down in front of each of
them. "Hope you enjoy it!"

	She returns to the kitchen.

	"Aren't you a little young to a manager?" The customer asks. "You
look fourteen."

	"I only look fourteen!" I laugh. "I'm actually almost
seventeen. It's a family trait, we tend to look younger longer. People tend
to think my great-grandfather is in his late-fifties, early-sixties, yet
he's several decades older than that.

	"And I've been the only server here a number of times, due to the
one I've been paired with being pregnant and getting sick or unable to
work. Apart from Gavin, I've been a part of the decision-making on all new
hires, and we'll be getting a few more hosts in in the next few
weeks. Since I've had to run the restaurant a few times, David, the owner,
counts me as an assistant manager, and will promote me to manager as soon
as I graduate high school in a couple of years, provided I'm still working
here, which we all expect to happen. Again, I do apologize for the
inconveniences, and I'll be talking to him about what happened. Sorry, and
I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal!"

	I return to work, and when the day ends and we've cleared the
lobby, I grab Gavin's arm, and he jerks it out of my grip.

	"Why didn't you come to me?" I ask. "When you were asked about the
stir fry, and didn't know? You told him you weren't sure, but thought it
didn't. You should have asked me."

 "No offense," he says. "But you're one of them. I'd rather not interact
with you when possible."

	"I'm also counted as a manager, here," I say. "That's why I was
able to override the system for his orders and comp him those items. I
don't care if you have an issue with non-straights, but keep it out of
work. Honestly, I'm supposed to write you up for that, but I'll let you off
with a warning, and I've already told Amy that."

	"I thought she was the manager?"

	"Grab me before her," I say. "Amy's needed in the kitchen, and
should only be grabbed in extreme cases. At all times, there will be either
Emily, David, or me here, and one of us should always be grabbed before
Amy."

	"Shouldn't Amy be grabbed before David?"

	"Rarely," I state. "Order of seniority goes like this: me, Emily,
Amy, David. Amy is the kitchen manager. The chefs are needed in the kitchen
at all times, and pulling Amy out to deal with a customer isn't good. I'm
here, you grab me. Amy is on salary, and as soon as I graduate high school,
I will be, as well. An attitude like yours, you won't ever be considered
for that, and you're older than me. Do you understand?"

	He nods, and I unlock the tip box that's his and go to the office,
counting it out and recording it in the logs before giving it to him.

	"We keep all of our tips?" He asks.

	"Yes," I say. "And we record how much you made in tips for tax
purposes, which is why David's so strict on putting them into the
boxes. You need to know, and he needs to know. And just so you're aware, me
not writing you up is your one warning. Don't screw up again. I don't care
if you don't like the fact that I'm gay - you need help, you grab me. Keep
your personal tastes out of work."

	"You were kissing your boyfriend."

	"He was kissing me," I stand up. "It's late, get going."

	He leaves, and I grab the chefs and give them their tips for the
night.

	"Can you count me out?" I ask Amy. "Not allowed to count my own
tips."

	"You already know what they are," she laughs, walking over to
me. "And David knows you won't cheat."

	After she records my tips, I head out, meeting Cam by the door and
giving him a kiss. He drives me home, and yes, we make out a little bit,
and no, we don't have sex. In the morning, I go through my usual
routine. My new usual routine. Still wake up early and make breakfast, but
the rest of the morning, before I leave for work, is me not really doing
anything, and it feels weird.

	Emily's at work when I show up, and she says she's feeling a lot
better. She's also showing that she's pregnant, and still booking it across
the room.

	Right at his usual time, cheesecake boy shows up. I grab Emily and
tell her to let me handle him.

	"Hello!" I greet him. "Welcome to the Wolf's Dragon! My name's
Cal. How can we help you today?"

	"Blueberry cheesecake with strawberry drizzle, please," he pulls
out a five-dollar bill and a one from his pocket, setting them on the
counter. "To go. Please?"

	"For you, Xander," I say. "I'll even throw in some fresh strawberry
slices."

	His gaze, normally on the ground, snaps up to meet mine, eyes
widened in surprise, fear, and panic.

	"How do you know my name?" He asks quietly, shrinking down in fear.

	"I'm psychic," I give him a wink, heading to the kitchen to the get
a slice for him.

	I set the cheesecake on the plastic piece, then slice up a
strawberry and arrange the pieces on top before drizzling the strawberry
drizzle onto the whole thing. I snap the plastic cover into place, set it
into one of our boxes, and go back out to him, setting it on the counter.

	"Here you go, Xander," I say. "And you can eat here, you know, you
don't have to eat on our wall."

	"I'm not allowed to eat in restaurants," he looks down.

	"Why not?"

	"Because I'm ugly and stupid and worthless."

	"If that were true," I say. "I wouldn't give you free strawberries,
Xander. And I think you're very handsome. Are you sure you don't want to
sit down and eat? It's pretty hot out, and so I'm sure it'd taste much
better in the air conditioning. Plus, it'll stay colder longer, instead of
heating up as you eat it."

	"I guess," he says quietly.

	I take him to the empty table closest to the door. I made sure it
stayed empty, since I figured he'd be in today, having been in the last
four Saturdays in a row. With how frightened of a boy he is, he'd probably
feel safer closer to the door, so he could run if needed.

	"Would you like anything to drink with it?" I ask, and he shakes
his head. "How about water?" He shakes his head. "Water's free."

	He hesitates on that one, then slowly nods.

	"I'll be right back," I walk to the drinks station and get him a
glass of warm water, asking Garret for a strawberry banana smoothie..

	"How in the world?" Emily walks in behind me.

	"What?"

	"You got cheesecake boy to eat in," she says.

	"You know Mr. Scott?" I ask, and she nods. "Turns out, he's in the
process of adopting cheesecake boy. He was in yesterday and was talking
about adopting a boy, then showed me a picture of him. Now that I know his
name, I figured I'd try talking him into sitting down. Didn't know that
knowing his name would get him to talk a little more. It's Xander, by the
way."

	"Cool," she says. "I'll try talking to him."

	"Next time he comes in," I say. "Let's not freak him out by having
two of us talk to him. He's definitely got confidence issues, he called
himself ugly, stupid, and worthless, and apparently thought he wasn't
allowed to eat in restaurants because of that. I told him that wasn't true,
and said that his food would taste better if he ate in our air conditioning
than out in the heat."

	"And that worked?"

	"Surprisingly," I look out of the drinks station, pulling out my
phone and snapping a quick picture. "Look at him, he's so adorable."

	He's sitting in his booth, hunched over his food with one arm
around it, eyes darting around, following anyone near him as he eats
slowly, savoring the taste of his food. I would have expected him to eat
quickly, so I do find that odd, but maybe he feels safer here than he
realizes.

	Garret grunts from the counter, and I grab the smoothie, setting it
on the same tray as the water, then making my way back to Xander. He jumps
when he notices me by him.

	"Here's your water," I set it down in front of him. "Would you like
a smoothie? Our kitchen made it by accident, it was supposed to be
strawberry blueberry, but they made a strawberry banana instead. Normally,
we'd just throw it out, but since you walked here, I figured you might want
it. If you do, it's free."

	As soon as I say the word 'free', he nods, looking eager, but that
quickly fades to worry. I set the smoothie down in front of him, giving him
a wink before going back to work. As soon as he finishes his food, he looks
nervous, uncomfortable. He glances around, and looks like he wants to
run. When I grab his dishes and trash, he looks at me, confused.

	"Did you enjoy your meal?" I ask, and he nods. "That's good to
hear. Hope to see you again, Xander."

	I walk away, and he looks at the table one last time, looking
relieved, and then he leaves. Was he unsure of what to do with his trash
and dishes? I wonder what's up with him, and why he's like that. There's
got to be a story there.

~~END OF CHAPTER EIGHT~~

	Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! As always, feedback,
be it questions, comments, or suggestions, can be sent to me at
kingkurt1339@gmail.com – I try to respond to every email! And if you
wish to be added to my mailing list, let me know!

	This marks the second-to-last chapter of NLCK, and the final one
will be released sometime next week. I've had many people asking me about
Greyson and Travis, do know that a story with their perspectives will be
released at some point in the future, and it will fill in much of the time
that is missing in NLCK. If you want to stay up-to-date on my story
releases, both current and any new ones I begin, email me at
kingkurt1339@gmail.com and let me know you'd like to be added to the list.

	TriviaTime! David began working at the Wolf's Dragon on March 14th,
2006, when he turned 14 years old, working as a busboy. Amy started working
at the Wolf's Dragon in February 6th, 2006,shortly before her 20th
birthday. This makes Amy the most senior member of staff there, even
outranking the owner in seniority!

	I will start publishing Matt's story within a month of NLCK ending!
It's a fun adventure to write, though Matt's a bit of a headache and a
brat.

	Thanks for reading, and look forward to Chapter 9!