One.

I sit crossed legged, kicking my foot back and forth as I turn the page to Dexter’s Final Cut. My eyes scan quickly over the words as I grin slowly at the absurdity of Dexter and Deb’s antics. I glance up quickly, eyeing the clock as I readjust the headset that sits atop my head. Jesus, I feel like I’ve been here forever but in all reality, it’s only been three and half hours. I hear a clang from behind me and a sharp curse word from my co-worker/roomie/best friend and roll my eyes, returning back to the murderous world of Miami’s top blood splatter analyst.

A few minutes later, the headset dings and I sigh loudly, slamming my bookmark into the paperback and toss it next to the POS, “Thank you for choosing McDonalds, how can I help you?” I recite in my best sing song tone and tap my finger across the screen to record their order. I repeat it back to them and tell them to drive up to the second window where Pony, the weird old Asian lady, can intercept.

I hear another clang and I turn in my seat, my face scrunched up, “Kristen, what the fuck man?”

She giggles lightly, peeping around the fry station as she preps them, “I’ve got butter fingers tonight.”

I laugh, stepping down from my stool and saunter back toward her to lean across her work station, “Yeah, more like you can’t keep your mind off of your new boy toy.”

She flutters her eyes, placing her hands over her heart as she smiles widely at me, “Sam is so gorgeous though, isn’t he? Ugh, it makes me sick.”

I shake my head at her as watch as she twirls around the kitchen, dumping another bag of fries into the grease. She’s on cloud nine, as she usually is but it’ll fade just as quickly as it came. She’ll have fun with him for a little while and then another Tom, Dick or Harry will walk by and she won’t even remember poor Sam’s name. Kristen has that affect though. She’s an average height and skinny, her long, dark wavy hair spiders down her shoulders and back. Her dark eyes can pierce your very soul but they’re kind and soft. For as girly as she is, she’s just as tom boyish, looking just as ravishing in a pair of jeans and Chucks as she does in a little, tight, black dress and pumps.

I’ve known her for so many years I can’t even remember how we met anymore. She’s the ying to my yang, the lime to my tequila, the sweet to my sour. Another ding sounds in my ear and I walk slowly back to the POS, reciting my usual lines, “Alrighty, that’ll be eight thirty two, please pull around to the second window.”

I look back at the clock again, rolling my eyes at the time. It’s only ten fifteen?! Some nights, we barely have enough time to think there’s so much traffic, and then there are nights like tonight. I glance out of the drive thru window into the dark California night, tapping my badly painted nails against the window seal. Everyone else must be having an exciting night out on the town while I’m stuck here. Just fucking great.

“Yo, have you heard from Amanda lately?” Kristen calls, causing me to glance back at her, shaking my head.

“Nah, why?”

Kristen shrugs, flipping two patties before throwing them on a bun and adding all the fixings to this poor saps’ Big Mac, “The bitch said she might be able to get us into a swanky party tomorrow night. Apparently all the cute Hollywood boys will be there. But I haven’t heard from her in like a week!”

It’s now my turn to shrug as I walk back towards her, placing my chin in the palm of my hand, “She never said anything to me about it.”

Amanda. The overachiever of the group. Kristen met Amanda first, on day one of English lit our freshman year of college. Kristen introduced Amanda and I at lunch and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Amanda graduated last year, early of course, and immediately landed a swank ass job in public relations while Kristen and I are mired at here at McDonalds. Every now and again, she pulls extra tickets, or extra invites to glamorous after parties or award shows and showers us in her overachieving glow. I’ll take it though. I mean, you’d think living in LA we’d be used to rubbing elbows with the upper echelon celebrities, but I’m not about to turn down a chance to meet Justin Timberlake or Robert Pattinson. I’m a true fan girl at heart.

And then, there’s me. Kinda frumpy, sarcastic, rambling, wild but sweet me. I’m a walking contradiction actually. I absolutely hate the idea of dressing up more than my chucks and jeans but yet once I’m out, I’m usually the life of the party. Well, maybe not the life of the party, but I can have a good time with the best of them. I don’t know where this wild streak comes from honestly, my dad always says I get it from his side of the family. One minute I can be wrapped up in front of the TV with a good book and the next, I’m half drunk, grinding on a freshman at a random party.  I’m wildly ambitious, but yet I just kinda float through life, too lazy to really put any real effort towards anything. In the back of my mind, I know I’m wasting my time. I should be looking for a real job since I’m graduating in a few months but I always somehow convince myself that I still have plenty of time, not to rush into anything. God, my middle name should be procrastinator.

“What’s the party for?” I ask, picking up a stray fry and chomping down on the salty goodness, “That is way too salty by the way.”

She scoffs, flipping me off, “It’s the Vanity Fair thing or something. I think the Hollywood issue just came out so like, all of the people that posed in it should be there.”

I frown, shoving my hands into my back pockets, “Sounds stuffy.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up Katya. You’re going if she can get us in.”

I point my eyes at her, my frown deepening, “Man, I gotta put on a dress and shit. Actually do my hair…” I trail off, grabbing a strand of my wildly curly hair and twirling it around my finger, “You know how much I hate make up too. I read somewhere that no matter how much you wash your face, some of the crap still stays in your pores and ages you like five times faster than normal. It causes wrinkles, dark spots, enlarged pores and –“

“Oh my god, will you shut up?!” Kristen calls, throwing her head back and staring at the ceiling to stop my ramble.

“Rude.” I simply say, spinning in a slow circle out of boredom.

“You are going, that’s it. End of story. So, wake your ass up in the morning. We’ll have a spa day, buy you a dress and we’ll go. We need to get you out of those awful hoodies anyway.”

“Hey,” I say softly, dropping my eyes down my body and wrapping myself tighter in my gray hoodie, “There is nothing wrong with my hoodies.”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Yeah, you only live in California where it’s like a hundred degrees out every day. I don’t know why you hide your body the way you do, I’d kill to have your shape.”

I laugh a little, glancing back down at my skinny jeans and black Nikes. I could try a little harder. It’s not like I’m hideous or anything but God, it takes so much time and effort. Plus, I’m a college student who lives on corn dogs and Ramen noodles, I don’t have the money to put in all that time and effort. Who are you trying to kid, Kat? One call to dad and you’ve got whatever you want, my subconscious sneers, you’re just too lazy to give a shit.

“Anyway, your boy from Fifty Shades is supposed to be there.” Kristen smiles, wiggling her eye brows at me, “What’s his name again?”

“Jamie,” I say all too quickly, “Jamie Dornan. Shit, it should be illegal to be as gorgeous as he is.” I sigh, recalling the countless times I skipped a class to watch and re-watch my blu-ray copy, “You know, he is really good friends with Robert Pattinson and Andrew Garfield, maybe they’ll be there too.”

“If they are and you meet Jamie, get your girl an intro, okay?” She says, pointing at herself.

“To which one?” I laugh.

“Either one! I’ll take any international boy for that matter. James McAvoy, Eddie Redmayne, Henry Cavill… they can all get a little piece of Kristen.”

I throw my head back in laughter, clapping my hands together a few times, “Jesus, you are such a slut!”

She shrugs, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as she smiles devilishly back at me, “But seriously, how cool would it be if you could meet Jesse.”

“Jamie!” I nearly scream.

She throws her hands up defensively, her dark eyes widening, “Oh my god, Jamie, goddamn.”

I giggle lightly, sending my eyes toward the ceiling, “It would be pretty cool, although, I’d make a fool out of myself for sure.”

“Like you did when we ran into Adam Levine at Barnes and Nobles?”

I scowl as she erupts into laughter, throwing her head back like a little kid, “I thought we made a pact to never bring that up again, Kristen! Not cool!”

“Hey, you and Amanda made that pact, I never agreed to that shit. I mean dude, you knocked over that whole display!”

I suck my teeth, rolling my eyes and letting out a deep breath, “Yes, I remember stupid. Shut up.”

Her phone rings a few seconds later and she retrieves it from her pocket, glancing up at Pony, the weird Asian lady, as she glares over at us, “No phones while working, you know dis.” She calls back to us, watching our every move.

Kristen waves her off, “Like you don’t break the rules Pony? I know you let your kids all up in here after the doors are supposed to be locked. Don’t start with me.” She sets the phone on the counter and hits speaker as Amanda’s name flashes across her screen, “Amanda! Where you been?”

“I’m sorry! It’s been crazy this last week with the Hollywood issue coming out, I’ve had meetings out the wazoo! Is Katya there too?”

“I’m here,” I pipe up, “What’s up chicky?”

“Ok so, great news!” Her sweet, southern voice floats towards us, “The reason I’m calling so late is because I have two extra tickets to the Vanity Fair party tomorrow and they are all yours! Plus, I scored an invite to the after party at Leo DiCaprio’s!”

“No fucking way!” Kristen nearly screams, jumping up and down like a school girl.

“That’s awesome!” I’m even beaming like an idiot.

“So, I had the pleasure of working with Tobey Maguire this week, who is a total doll by the way, and he said that Leo is back in town for the weekend and is throwing a huge party to celebrate the wrapping of his new film. He called Leo like right on the spot and asked if I could come! How cool is that?! I’m telling you, he’s a complete doll!”

“He’s okay with us two coming though? I mean…” I trail off, my familiar frown spreading across my face. Kristen slaps my arm, scoffing loudly, “What? It’s an honest question! I don’t want to be known as the girl who got thrown out of Leonardo DiCaprio’s house.”

“Oh my gosh, you worry wart! Of course I got permission for my two besties to tag along! What kind of southerner would I be if I didn’t invite my very best gals?”

We giggle as Pony walks past us, grumbling something under her breath, “When should we be ready?” Kristen asks.

“I’ll be by to get you girls at seven. Dress sharp, plenty of people will be there, which means, plenty of opportunities and doors to be opened. Please get Kat out of that damn gray sweater!” Amanda coos, giggling as I protest, “I’m sorry honey but it’s a hundred degrees out, there is no need to wear a hoodie.”

“I said the same thing! Don’t worry, I’ll get her presentable. You are so amazing for this, Amanda! I mean it!” Kristen gushes, jumping up and down slightly.

“Don’t you worry, I take care of my friends! Seven o clock ladies! I’ll see y’all tomorrow! Ciao!”

“Bye!” The both of us call, before Kristen slams her finger down on the end button.

She screams, grabbing me by my shoulders and spinning us around and around the kitchen, “Leonardo DiCaprio’s!! Aaagggh!!”

I giggle loudly, sharing her excitement, “I’m actually looking forward to dress shopping now. Wait, don’t you have class tomorrow?”

She waves me off, “Not anymore! I told you, a spa day and dress shopping takes priority over Business mechanics and technical writing any day! You better break out daddy’s emergency credit card girl.”

“He’ll kill me!”

“No he won’t. You’re his only daughter and the only kid he’ll have to graduate from college. He won’t care… much.” I laugh again, my eyes widening as I remember the incident we had a few years ago that involved a brand new pair of Louboutins and my emergency credit card, “You just gotta blink those big pretty eyes and put on that Texas charm and he’ll be putty.”

I roll my eyes, secretly knowing that she’s telling the truth and sigh loudly when my headset dings once again. Back to reality Kat, “Thanks for choosing McDonalds, how may I help you?”