Erin was over her hangover by the time dinnertime rolled around. There'd been a big funeral at the house today, so she'd mostly stayed scarce, until she took pity on her overworked parents and headed out for takeout. She sat at the counter, bobbing her head along to the music, until a young waiter put a few take-out boxes down in front of her. Erin stood and reached to pick them up, but a second after touching the boxes, sat back down.
"Can I have a burger you didn't drop on the floor, please?" she asked. The waiter, whose bad acne really stood out when all the color drained from his face like that, stared stupidly at her.
"...How did you-"
"Trust me." Erin said, smiling pleasantly. "I know." The kid looked rather unsettled as he grabbed her boxes and headed back into the kitchen, and Erin just smiled and picked the song back up again. God, these bitches owned it.