#ft. william.

begging for her high school job back wasn’t the first thing on leah’s list tonight, but she’d found out la lumière du roitelet was catering and then seen odette’s signature bob in the crowd, she knew that she had to swallow her pride and take a chance. sure, it wasn't her ideal career path, but if nothing else, some shifts would give her an excuse to escape her parents’ house and some pocket change. yet when she’d asked, odette had taken leah’s face in her hands in that gentle way she does right before she tells you the absolute last thing you want to hear. “leah, dear, i would love to take you back. but you can’t be on your feet for the length of my shifts, and you know full well i don’t tolerate any weak links on my team.” the truth of the words still burn in leah’s ears as she slips out of the kitchen.  her eyes are on the floor and her cheeks are hot with shame. she doesn’t look for benji, despite telling him she'd be right back. he likely wouldn’t ask why she’d disappeared into the kitchen, nor why she’s pouting on her return, but she might just tell him anyway. the thought repulses her. so instead, she avoids the backyard, where she can see him through the window, standing with romy, and ducks into the hallway. she expects the back staircase to be empty, given the way they’re tucked into the back of the house but she nearly crashes into will, who’s coming down it. though she has no intention of telling a yale graduate that she can’t even land a minimum wage waitressing job, it’s a relief to be met with the one other person she’s sure isn’t where they thought they’d be. “hey,” she says in greeting, stepping to the side to let him pass. she doesn’t say anything about the castros asking their guests to stay downstairs. “how’s your night?”

leah doesn’t do this. she doesn’t reach out to check on people, and she certainly doesn’t show up at their house while they’re still recovering to spend time with them. but when she stood in line for concessions at wrensted watches, she actually found herself kind of missing will’s company. it’s stupid, she knows; it’s not like they talk during movies, just a debrief on their way to the parking lot. before she could think too much of it, leah was leaving before the movie started, with an icee in one hand, a diet coke in the other, popcorn tucked into the crook of her arm, and milk duds in her purse. now, she’s stood like an idiot outside of will’s door, contemplating saving herself the embarrassment and just going home. biting down hard on the inside of her cheek, leah steels herself and presses the doorbell with her free elbow.