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born.
    “Um, I think sometimes I can get carried away,” I said apologetically, “and then I get impatient—”
    “What?” Seth looked bewildered. “What does getting carried away have to do with being a waitress?”
    Oh, he was talking about waiting , waiting. Cool. That made a lot more sense.
    “That makes more sense,” I said out loud.
    “Yeah.” Seth nodded, obviously not understanding my thought process at all. See? Oscar and Felix. Oil and water. Buffy and vampires. We had the bad, explosive kind of chemistry.
    If only he wasn’t so freaking cute.
    “My dad’s in a bind, and we didn’t know what we were going to do. He’s down one server, and so far, there are no prospects on the horizon—I think because the summer is so busy for restaurants.”
    Didn’t I know it. I hadn’t seen my mother since Memorial Day.
    “Your dad runs a restaurant?” I was a little bit late to the party, which was affecting my level of comprehension.
    Sean laughed. “How do you think I got this gig without any previous teaching experience? My dad owns a restaurant. A new one. You might have heard of it.” With a grunt, he tossed the last garbage bag onto a pile by the front door, for the janitors to pick up later.
    A sinking feeling settled in my stomach, like I’d made the mistake of riding theFerris wheel after three too many cotton candies. “Um, maybe,” I said weakly, worried about what he’d say next.
    “It’s called Hype,” he finished. “We just opened. We’re still waiting for the top reviews to come in.” He glanced at me curiously, as though thinking of something for the first time.
    “Hey,” he said easily, “what do your parents do?”

Me : Hey, Mom, are you busy?
Mom : Sort of, sweetie. We’re on deadline, and the managing editor is literally standing over me, waiting for my piece.
Me : Really? Um, okay, I’ll make this fast. I mean—what piece are you working on?
Mom: You remember, Hon—that rock-and-roll sushi karaoke joint that I tried to convince you to visit with me.
Me : Right, that one. Pity I’m not more of a karaoke type. But, uh, you never told me what you thought of Hype.
Mom : Oh, boy. Really not worth mentioning. The service was unimpressive—
Me : Well, you know, I mean, maybe they’re short staffed or whatever right now.
Mom : Huh. Maybe. But beyond that, the food was very uneven, mediocre at best. They’re going to have to step it up if they want to compete with the restaurants in this town.
Me : (slightly panicked gasping noise)
Me : (after calming down) Right, but, um, are you going to pan them in the Tribune?
Mom : (hearty laughter) Of course not!
Me : (under my breath) Oh, thank freaking goodness.
Mom : After all, they get two more chances to change my mind.
    Right.
    One minute I was a mildly neglected latchkey kid who had a string of crushes and an empty piggy bank. Now, suddenly, I had two jobs that, frankly, I wasn’t all that good or experienced at, and one huge crush that seemed completely ill advised. Even worse, I was living a lie.
    Okay, maybe that’s putting it a little bit melodramatically. I’m not a manipulative mastermind, after all. But like it or not, I was working the art of misdirection.
    For instance, since my mother never outright asked if I was working as a waitress at one of the newest, most overhyped (in her opinion, anyway) restaurants in town, I didn’t bring it up with her. And when Seth asked me what my parents do for a living, I talked my absentee father up, big-time. I told him my mom was “a foodie,” which was just vague enough not to be a lie.
    Suddenly my calendar was looking like a five-course meal. And it was only going to get worse. I had to hope that my appetite held up.

Six
    The thing about being an uptight, overly scheduled, hyperorganized sort of person is that sometimes you kind of come across like a butt-kissing geek.
    I, for instance, was so wired for my first day as a waitress at Hype that I’d arrived a full thirty