Episode 7: The Aftermath and Cindy's Game

 

Episode: The Aftermath and Cindy's Game

 and Allyson 

The shrill, insistent protest of her alarm ripped Cindy from a restless sleep. 6:00 AM. Another breakfast shift loomed at the conference center, a stark reminder of the routine she’d both embraced and occasionally resented. 

With a groan, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool dorm floor a familiar shock against her bare feet. There was no lingering, no gentle easing into the day.

 It was straight to the shower, where the steam quickly enveloped her, scrubbing away the last vestiges of sleep. She was vigorously washing shampoo into her hair when the bathroom door creaked open.

Allyson, a hazy, half-groggy figure, stumbled in. She barely registered Cindy before collapsing onto the toilet. “CINDY, don’t you work with Ted, breakfast shift?” Allyson mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Cindy nearly scalded herself with the hot water. “Fuckin’ yes!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the tiled walls.

 “Everything’s going bat shit crazy!” The words tumbled out, a raw release of the frustration and coiled tension she hadn't realized she was holding.

The breakfast shift 

Ted, meanwhile, was already in the main dining room, a silent sentinel in the pre-dawn quiet. He liked being early, liked the calm before the storm of hungry guests.

 It was a staggered breakfast, a small mercy, allowing people to drift in between 7 and 10 AM. Still, with only three wait staff for the early morning and another three coming in at 9 AM, it was going to be busy.

He moved with an easy rhythm, setting tables. Water glasses clinked softly, butter pats were laid out with precision, and fresh flowers, still dewy, added a touch of elegance to each setting. 

The kitchen door swung open, and the cook, a burly man with a booming voice, barked, "Open the doors!"

Just then, the kitchen door swung open again, and there was Cindy, her hair still damp, quickly securing a scrunchie around it. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, and Ted’s heart gave an involuntary lurch. He held onto the faint, hopeful tremor from their kiss, the one he'd replayed countless times since.

He pushed the main doors open, a practiced smile plastered on his face as he greeted the first wave of guests. "Good morning! I hope you're hungry! We have giant cinnamon rolls!" It was his usual line, designed to elicit a chuckle and set a cheerful tone.

Cindy, a whirlwind of efficiency, rushed straight to the first group that sat down. Her voice, bright and cheerful, bubbled with an energy that seemed almost… artificial. She was very good at her job, masking whatever turmoil lay beneath. 

Ted watched her, navigating his own tables, but the opportunity to speak with her, to catch her alone in the back prep kitchen, never materialized. She was always moving, always surrounded.

As the shift wore on, a cold, hard truth began to settle in Ted’s gut: she was not excited about the kiss. Not in the way he was, not in the way he'd hoped. 

He replayed the moment in his mind, the brief, electric touch, the unspoken promise. Now, nothing. Not even a proper hello, let alone an acknowledgement of what had passed between them.

Finally, the breakfast shift was over. In the quiet, less chaotic back corner of the building, he cornered her.

"What's going on?" Ted demanded, his voice louder than he intended, the frustration finally bubbling over.

"Shut up, Ted!" Cindy snapped, her cheerful work persona completely gone, replaced by something sharp and angry.

"I just thought we could..." Ted started, reaching out slightly, but Cindy cut him off, her hand slicing through the air between them.

"There is no 'we,' Ted. It was a really bad idea that I kissed you," Cindy said, her words like individual blows. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, were cold. "You are like a little puppy, just leave me alone," she spat, the insult stinging, before she spun on her heel and stormed off towards the dorms to get changed.

Ted stood there, rooted to the spot, the echo of her words ringing in his ears. Shock, a deep, bone-aching shock, settled over him. He slowly made his way to the dorms to change. On his way out, the sight made his stomach clench: Cindy, already in a car, laughing with a local guy who ran a boat rental business. 

They shared a quick, easy kiss before he pulled away. Ted didn't wait to see them drive off. He just turned and walked, heading for the solitary refuge of the woods, needing to lose himself in the quiet, indifferent trees.

Cindy was flirty  and suggestive, while she is driven to the boat. She felt up his shirt while he drove 

She then paste her left hand as high up on his thigh that actually could.

She could hear his breath quickening as she moved up from his thigh.

Cindy like controlling everything.  Is going to go her way. She didn't like having somebody else, even a man dictate how soon how far steph went on a date.