Live for the Day by Sarah Masters Page A

something to eat, drank the remains of his coffee then bolted for the door. What if she got the idea he was there to see her?
    If Steven was here, if I asked him to, he’d put her right. Make out I had a girlfriend in the next town over or something.
    But Steven wasn’t here, and much as that sucked, Michael had ordered now and there wasn’t much else he could do but eat the food when she brought it to his table. Then he could go.
    While he waited for his bagel, he had a case of his stomach rolling over as he caught sight of the Greyhound coming into town. It was in the distance, far up on the hillside right now, but soon it would trundle into town and stop outside the café on the other side of the road. Of course, his excitement was a waste of time. A memory sparking it, of the times he’d waited for Steven, to greet him when he stepped off the bus on leave. He’d bet the people who got off the bus this time would be folks who’d been to the neighboring town, Greenhills, where there was a huge mall and far more interesting places to shop. And cafés where the waitresses weren’t like Sandy.
    Michael went to Greenhills sometimes, but it was no fun going alone. Maybe when Steven was next here they could take a trip out there. Have a meal in one of those fancy restaurants he’d seen where bright lights shone from inside, spilling onto the sidewalk, the glow a wicked enticement to spend hard-earned wages on a feast that promised to see a man struggle to finish it all.
    Suddenly, the idea of eating a bagel didn’t appeal. He wanted a huge-ass steak with all the trimmings. And Steven sitting opposite, enjoying the same.
    Fuck, I miss him.
    His eyes burned, so he got up with the intention of visiting the men’s room. He’d sort himself out in there, regain his composure, then get on with the monotony of his day. What he’d do after he left the café was anyone’s guess, though. An endless few hours loomed ahead. Nothing but boredom and wishing the time away so he could go to sleep.
    I shouldn’t have taken a whole week off. Maybe a couple of days here and there wouldn’t have felt so bad.
    In the restroom, he splashed water on his face, noting in the spotted mirror that his eyes were dull—muddy brown. He quickly looked away, not wanting to inspect himself too closely. After all, what would he see but a scruffy guy who couldn’t be bothered to shave or brush his unruly hair these days? Shit, he needed to get a grip.
    After drying his hands and face, he left the restroom, heading back to his table. His bagel was already there, dead center on a placemat, a napkin beside that along with a fresh cup of coffee. He hadn’t asked for the fresh brew and supposed Steven might well be right—Sandy had the hots for him.
    He glanced around as he sat, but she wasn’t anywhere that he could see. Sighing out his relief, he settled into his seat then took a bite of food. It tasted pretty good, the cheese melted just right.
    Back to staring out of the window, then.
    The Greyhound was off the hillside now and coming toward town, the long road stretching off into the distance, reminding him of a ruler he’d used at school. Straight as anything. The front of the bus looked like a face—a bit menacing really—surrounded by puffs of beige dust kicked up by the rotating tires. While he ate some more, he watched that face getting bigger until the only thing he could see was the radiator grill as a big mouth and the windshield one gigantic eye.
    He blinked and shuddered, chastising himself for his insane imagination. The bus was now just a bus, which was coming to a wheezing stop, the dust thinning, some clinging to the lower half. He smiled at that. Some kids would have fun scrawling rude sentences with their fingertips—like him and Steven used to do.
    Christ, how time had flown. It only seemed like yesterday that they’d been two brats racing around town, dodging through the crowds on a Saturday morning at the market behind the