Chapter 2 Frat bros.

The dingy fluorescent lights flickered overhead, bathing Athena's Family Diner in an atmosphere that could charitably be described as "grimly authentic." Ava squeezed between tightly packed Formica table tops, her cheap slip-resistant sneakers sticking to the sticky linoleum with each step.

Her green eyes swept across the ramshackle clientele seeking a greasy respite. Dishevelled locals nursing bottomless mugs of diner brew. Grizzled neighbourhood drifters hunched over cold plates of congealed eggs and sausage links. Even a few working girls, freshly sated from outcall pickups, thumbing idly at their phones as they blew wads of cash on towering nachos shellacked in viscous neon cheese.

Ava smirked to herself, knowing those ladies of the night were likely pulling in more on a slow Tuesday than she did waitressing all week. A tiny, rebellious voice deep inside wondered if she could ever bring herself to that life - selling her toned body for cash instead of wage-slaving it away. Just as quickly, the notion was banished as she shuddered thinking of all the horrific STDs circulating these days. She wasn't that desperate...not yet, at least.

Her gaze snapped back to her surroundings as a rough chorus of hoots and raucous laughter erupted from the diner's far corner. A greasy clutch of frat-bro types, maybe five or six ranging from their late 20s to mid-30s, gesticulated wildly with beer bottles clutched in their meaty paws. Even from across the diner floor, Ava could feel their beady eyes boorish roving her petite frame in the trademark jiggle-fest of sleaze balls assessing a new "score."

Suppressing a shudder of revulsion, Ava swivelled on her heel and bee lined back toward the service corridor where her best friend and fellow lifer Lizzie was slouched in a torn vinyl chair, feet kicked up on a milk crate. The wiry redhead's head lolled back, her mouth slightly agape as she napped between what was surely a double-shift from hell.

"Yo, Lizzie! Lizzie!!" Ava hissed under her breath as she gave her friend's boots a sharp nudge.

Lizzie started awake with a yelp, her green eyes flying open as she flailed her arms in a moment of panic.

"What the fu...oh. It's just you, bitch!" She threw a venomous glare at Ava, who simply rolled her eyes.

"Listen, Liz...I can't go back out there right now," Ava pleaded, desperation tingling her soft voice as she glanced over her shoulder warily. "You know that pack of meatheads in the corner booth? They've been eye-raping me all night, undressing me with their piggy little minds. I...I feel so creeped out and exposed. Just take my section for a bit?"

Lizzie levelled her gaze at Ava for a long beat, clearly irked at having her only break time interrupted by her friend's melodrama. "Oh hell no, Princess! I just started my shift, unlike your lazy ass. I need this cat nap to stay sane and not completely snap on one of these mouth-breather bozos."

"Please, Lizzie?" Ava stuck out her lower lip in a devastating pout, her big doe eyes widening beseechingly.

"You know how gross men can be with me, trying to touch me and shit. Just do me this solid until their checks close out? Please?"

With an exaggerated groan of frustration, Lizzie swung her combat boots back to the grimy tile floor and thumped up to her feet. "All right, all right. But you owe me double coverage on any nice ass that wanders in later."

"Deal!" Ava blurted in relief, impulsively throwing her skinny arms around Lizzie's wiry frame and squeezing tight.

Just then, the rotund silhouette of Len the manager appeared in the doorway, chewing on the remains of a cold cigar butt. His piggish eyes landed suspiciously on the two friends as he barked, "Vegas! Corner booth needs their next round. Handle it."

Ava's face went pale as a wave of nausea hit her gut. "B-But Len..." she stammered helplessly. "I was hoping Lizzie could..."

The oily little man held up a pudgy palm to silence her. "Listen sweetheart, I don't give a crap about whatever's twisting your lil' panties into a knot. Those jerk wads been askin' for you by name, so you best be a good girl and hustle that tight little behind over there." He punctuated the crude directive with a contemptuous sneer.

Powerless to protest further without risking her job, Ava swallowed hard and gave Lizzie's hand a final squeeze before tugging her apron strings tighter. Squaring her narrow shoulders, she marched with as much false bravado as she could muster toward the booth of entitled douchebags.

As she approached, they seemed to amplify their raucous guffawing, shoving and jostling each other like badly behaved frat boys as their lascivious gazes drank in every inch of Ava's petite, uniform-clad figure.

The bleached-blond leader of the pack turned toward her with a smarmy, dimpled grin, blatantly looking her up and down. "Well, hello there, darlin'! Thought maybe we were gonna have to slip the little spic wagon jockey a twenty to get you stationed our way."

His buddies roared with ugly laughter, slapping the sticky table top in juvenile appreciation at the racist jab aimed at Len. Ava refused to look shaken, simply retrieving her order pad and doing her best to stare through the ass hat.

"Welcome to Athena's, gentlemen. Can I get you started with some more drinks?" she intoned in her perkiest customer service cadence.

Before the words had fully left her lips, she felt a sharp pinch as one of the pricks reached out and casually squeezed her firm backside. Ava flinched, her rosy cheeks flushing crimson as she jerked away from his groping hand.

"We could use a couple more pitchers for sure, honey..." the instigator crooned with a depraved wink."But maybe you could pour us a real thirst-quencher under the table first?"

The whole lot of them dissolved into raucous chuckles and chest-thumping over the boldly indecent proposition. Bile rose in Ava's throat as she fought to hold in her fury, unwilling to give these privileged pigs the satisfaction of an outburst.

'Just keep smiling, get their order, and bail...' she repeated to herself like a mantra. But as she turned to hustle away, another rough paw reached out and brazenly palmed her ass in a lingering squeeze.

A shocked yelp escaped Ava's lips despite herself, her armful of menus scattering as she involuntarily recoiled from the violation. Suddenly, all eyes in the restaurant seemed locked on her frozen frame as realization of being publicly groped washed over the young girl.

One patron's mouth twisted in disapproval before quickly looking away, pretending not to notice. Another winked conspiratorially at the rowdy group. Everyone had seen...but no one cared enough to intervene for a lowly diner slave being degraded.

Tears of humiliation and rage stung at the corners of Ava's eyes as she fled back to the service corridor, not even daring to glance in the direction of the still-whooping degenerates who had molested her. She barely registered Lizzie's concerned shouts as she blew past her friend, slamming through the kitchen doors into the blessed solitude of the mercifully empty walk-in freezer.

Once inside, the biting chill of the frigid air enveloped Ava like a slap to the face. Great, shuddering sobs wracked her tiny frame as all the pent-up anguish came flooding out in wave after wave...

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