| Saturday afternoons are always busy, but for the people dinning inside the Golden Wok, there is little more than peace and quiet. Between the lunch and dinner rush, there is a lull in the activity. Tables have been mostly bused and those who still linger near their tables are able to chat quietly without lifting their voices. This is really the best time to show up, and that's exactly what Abe does.
Dressed in jeans and a shirt that has seen much better days, Abe appears in the doorway if the establishment. Fresh from work, it would seem, he gives the room a glance as he waits to be seated, only to pick a table near the corner when he finally is.
"Hello, I'll be your waitress for today... Abe?" It's Saya, dressed in neat black slacks, a white button-down shirt, a black vest, and a bright red tie, with her hair in a ponytail. "Hey," she says, relaxing a little bit and grinning at him. "How've you been? What can I get you?"
Abe chuckles as he's recognized. It may even earn a smile from him. "Hey Saya. Chow Mein. Chicken. Please. I've been good. Sorry I'm such a greasy mess. I've been at work, and I figured starvation trumped shower." His shirt and jeans show off more than a little dried-in oil and grease, not rare for someone who works at a garage. His face and hands are clean at least. "How've you been? It's been a while."
Saya does wrinkle her nose a bit at his greasy clothes, but she's smiling at the same time. "It's not a big deal," she tells him, shaking her head a little. "I've been alright," she says. "Dancing and providing free child labor for my parents," she laughs. "At least you're getting paid to be a... what do they call it? A grease monkey?"
Abe laughs, though the wrinkle of her nose has him glancing down to inspect himself again. "Free labor sounds lame but the dancing doesn't. That's pretty cool." He pauses, thoughtfully even. "Yeah... I guess you could say that. I work part time for Mr. Nolan." Which would be none other than Nolan of Nolan's Body Shop. "I don't know that I could work with Dad at his office. I think I'd go crazy."
"Dancing is always cool," Saya says with another smile. "Not so much the audience, sometimes." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head slightly. "What's your dad do?" she asks. Before he has a chance to answer that she blurts, "I just realized that you and I have never actually had a real conversation. How is that possible? We've had a million classes together, and last year, with the football..." she trails off.
Abe smirks lightly at the trailing of her voice. Football. It always catches people. No one knows what to say, and that seems fine with him. "I'm quiet." He reminds her, moving on past the mysterious football topic, "But I played this year. That has to earn me points back, right?" His next grin is much calmer, he even waves to the seat across from him. "If they'll let you take a break you and have a real conversation with me now. If..you're not shamed to be seen with a grease monkey." He then pauses. "Oh, and my dad's a lawyer... dull. I know."
"I could probably sit," Saya says. "But I have to place your order, first." She grins at him and wiggles her pen over the order pad. "I'll be right back." And off she goes, darting into the back. She'll be gone for about ten minutes, only to come back with his food - and something for herself to eat, as well as two glasses of lemon water.
Abe hums happily as she returns with food. The fact she's eating too is even better, as it relaxes the moment so much more. "Many thank yous," he chuckles to her, pulling his own meal in front of him before taking a moment to snap the ever present (and loved by all Americans) chopsticks apart. "So are you gonna go out for cheering again? Or is that a road best left behind you?"
Saya snaps her own apart, puts them side-by-side between her hands, and rubs her hands together to get rid of the odd splinter. "You're welcome!" she says. "Thank you for your business, as they make me say." She has a bite and thinks about his questions. But not for long. "Nah. I'm done with that. It was fun for a little while - but then it got boring. Just the same thing over and over again. It wasn't challenging, after a while. Not like ballet."
Abe chuckles, taking a bite of his own. "Ya know, you're cheering for everyone else. It's only supposed to be fun for everyone else. Right? That's why cheer uniforms are so uncomfortable-looking. Everything is geared make us drop the ball or run into a goal post... or, that's what movies tell us anyway. I assume they'd never lie to us." He's teasing of course, between bites no less. "I can honestly say though that I'm just talking out my head. I can understand where 'B-E Aggressive' would get old after the three hundredth time."
Saya giggles. "They're not uncomfortable," she says. "And compared to a leotard they're downright modest. But yeah..." she shrugs. "I can only scream 'Go Team' so many times before I want to shoot something." She shakes her head and eats a bit more. "But I hear you're getting back into football and everything. How's that going for you?"
Abe laughs, though a few seconds later he shrugs a shoulder. "It's gone okay. The coach was happy. A few of the guys. Monroe hates playing Safety so when they announced I was coming back I thought he was going to hug me and burst into tears." He takes a bite, but there's little hiding the amusement that the comparison of cheer outfit and leotard get. He's only male, after all. "Mm." He swallows. "Have you ever looked at a leotard and been like..yeah, this was either designed by a man or a stripper?" Because clear that's where he ends up with it. "And here we are putting our most graceful women in them to dance, slowly, on stage. And for big bucks too. Someone had his head screwed on right." Thank you Russia! "Women got their revenge though. They invented football pants." Beat, "And baseball uniforms."
Saya starts laughing when he begins talking about leotards and doesn't stop all through baseball uniforms. "Oh, geeze, you're totally right," she laughs. "Leotards were invented by a man. Jules Leotard," she says. "The guy who invented the flying trapeze. But he made them for himself, and then later female dancers started wearing them. Before that there was, you know, tights and a tutu and a fitted top." She snickers again. "Football pants," she says into her next bite, still amused.
Abe ahs. Clearly he didn't know that, judging by the very shocked (and perhaps disgusted) expression that crosses his features at mention of the trapeze artist's intentions. He moves on. "Tutus. I vote you guys go back to tutus." Why exactly he thinks as much she may never know. "But football pants, they're just padded tights. We're not as graceful as you. It's hard getting them on, but getting them off is absolute hell."
"We still wear them," Saya says with a grin. "For performances, sometimes. But why bother during rehearsals?" She snorts in laughter at the image of the football pants, and shakes her head. "Just put some muscle into it!" she teases. "Isn't that what you guys are good at?" She eats some more. "Anyway... I've always wondered why you ever quit the football team last year. Everyone wondered. Is it okay if I ask why?"
Abe bites his lower lip thoughtfully as he runs the question through his mind. It's not the first time he's been asked, but every time is shaky. "Well.." he begins with a low tone, "Do you remember Abigale Rae's accident? Homecoming night last year?" It was a very big deal when it happened. The popular student body vice president was struck by a suspected drunk driver leaving Doug's party and was left partially paralyzed. The driver was never found, and the girl had gone on happy with her life... in a wheelchair. He just shrugs. "After all that happened being so wrapped up in petty clique wars and spending my time concerned about popularity and high school sports seemed kinda lame. I just didn't have it in me." He takes a bite of chicken, chewing it silently. "I gained perspective I guess."
Saya nods, looking sad and thoughtful when he mentions Abigale's accident. "That was awful," she says quietly. "She's so lucky she wasn't killed. Every time I see her in the hallway, rolling around in that wheelchair, I think, gawd, what if that had been me? What if I couldn't dance any more? She's so brave." She nods a bit at his introspection. "And now you're back 'cause... you missed it?" she guesses.
"She's a good example as to why drinking and driving is a bad idea." He adds with a groan. "But it probably wouldn't have changed anything. She was hit." Mostly he seems to say it to himself, but he also takes another bite of his chicken. He seems grateful for the change in subject. "I'm back because I realized how boring I am, that I work too much for my age, that my house is where fun goes to die, and because the football coach at the university mentioned a potential scholarship, and any penny I can get into school on that my old man doesn't shell out, is a little less control he'll have over me."
"Dunno," Saya says. "If the driver wasn't drunk, maybe he wouldn't have hit her at all. But... what happened, happened. We can't change it, now." She raises her eyebrows at his list of reasons. "Wow," she says. "That's some compelling logic, there." One side of her mouth quirks up in a little smile. "You wanna be a professional football player after college? Or something else?"
Abe nods, and chuckles. "No, not a professional player. Not that I'd turn my nose up at the pay or the chance, but I'm trying to decide if I want to go into law, or I want to go into engineering. I'm not really sure. Both would please my family, though obviously one more than the other." His last bite is taken before he finally reaches for the lemon water. "What about you? You going to join Ava in changing the world through dance? Or do you have a career in mind? I mean... you're Asian so obviously super advanced robotics expert wearing a tight purple latex body suit is on the table, but what else? If super advanced robotics expert doesn't pan out under the failing academic standards of America?"
"Engineering could be cool," Saya says. "Don't let your parents pressure you too much, though. I mean... if there's something else you like, go for that. Right? Might as well, since it's your life and all." She's only about half-done with her meal, but she reaches for water, too. She pushes her plate a little to one side - she's done eating, for now. She rolls her eyes elaborately at the joke. "Hah-hah," she says in a deadpan voice. "No, I want to be a dancer, professionally. There are some good colleges around. I've already started getting my portfolio together. My mother's already looking at brochures for UC Riverside and UC Berkeley." She doesn't sound that unhappy about the prospect. "There's other places, too. Juliard, Skidmore, Mason Gross..."
Abe nods, though her deadpan laugh and her lack of appreciation for his joke causes a laugh of his own. "I have plenty of interest in both fields, so I think it should work out well. Though, I think I intend to stick around here and go to school. Unless I get into Brown. I dunno why, just always liked it there." He shifts in his seat, sitting back as he takes another drink of his water. "Good luck with the dancing though. I don't know why I figured you for the type to open a tea room all your own, marry and have that 2.5 kids and a fish." He's teasing though. Lightly.
Saya blinks at him a couple of times. "Are you kidding me?" she laughs. "Getting pregnant would pretty much be the end of my dancing career. You can't dance for at least a year - nine months of pregnancy, and then recovery. And then, like, it takes a long time to recondition yourself. Sure, it's been done, but not often." She shakes her head. "I might want kids someday. After I retire. I think adoption is a great thing - very good for an overpopulated planet like ours." She tilts her head. "What about you? Gonna find yourself a college sweetheart and settle down as soon as you graduate, start making grandchildren for your parents?"
Abe chuckles, nodding. He'd heard as much before. Hearing it straight from someone like Saya though... it's a little more believable. Her question earns a grin, and a nod. "If I'm completely honest, probably. I want a family though, the younger the better. I'd like to grow up with them, but at the same time I'd like to be young enough when they grow up and move on, to still enjoy my life." Think this out much? Oh, yeah. He takes another sip before fishing a slice of lemon from his glass. "Of course if it goes another way that's cool too." He's obviously easy to please.
"I mean... you can, but... Can you imagine the Swan in Swan Lake with a belly out to here? And you can't pirouette, or do leaps. Balance would be way off. Everything would be limited. All of our teachers are like, DON'T DO IT!" She splays her hands out and widens her eyes, imitating a panicked warning. She listens to his explanation about family with a bit of interest, and smiles at him. "You're a pretty mellow dude, aren't you?"
Abe laughs at the splayed hands and wide eyes. Who wouldn't? "I am, most of the time. I didn't used to be though. I think time away from the chaos of it all helped me prioritize and be, ya know..not a superficial asshole. Pardon my French. Life's too short, ya know?" The slice of lemon is squeezed over his glass before he takes a bite of it, and with all the skill of a daily lemon-eater, too!
Saya's cell phone chimes. "Argh, I gotta get back to being a slave," she tells him. She gathers up their plates, but leaves his glass alone. "It was really nice having an actual conversation with you, Abe." She grins at him. "We should do this again, some time."
Abe chuckles, though a glance to his watch earns a blink. "Wow, that was longer than I thought. My apologies to your parents." He smiles though, nodding as he, too, stands. It's an awkward moment. He doesn't want her to clean his mess and yet... restaurant! He flounders a moment before he resigns to the fact he has to let her. "Yes..look me up one day. I'm on Facebook. It's the boring one that hasn't been posted on in a year." He's teasing. Almost. "Later, Saya." He leaves a tip, awkwardly of course.
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