Have you ever had one of those moments when the past barges right back into your life without warning? One second, I was wiping down tables at the restaurant I call home, and the next, I was staring into the eyes of the girl who made my high school years pure misery.
It was just another ordinary day. The restaurant smelled of fresh coffee, the kind that wraps around you like a hug before you even walk in. It’s a cozy little place, and our regulars know you by name, remember your favorite drink, and, if you stick around long enough, probably know your whole life story too.
I was pitching in with the cleaning that day because Beth, one of our waitresses, wasn’t feeling well. She’s pregnant—glowing, beautiful, but earlier she had a faint spell, so the rest of us picked up her shift. That’s how we are: a family. When one of us stumbles, the rest step in without hesitation.
So, there I was, scrubbing a table in the back, lost in the rhythm of it, when I heard it. Laughter. Not just any laughter—the exact sound that dragged me back to high school hallways, the kind that makes your stomach twist before you even look up. I knew instantly.
It was her.
Heather Parker.
The queen bee of our high school, ruler of the social hierarchy, and my personal nightmare for four straight years. And there she was, walking into my restaurant like she owned it, her signature laugh cutting through the chatter of customers. She had her usual entourage too—Hannah and Melissa—still hanging on her every word, just like old times.
I froze, the rag clenched in my hand, my body stiff like a deer caught in headlights. They hadn’t seen me yet, but already I felt that old sting—those whispers, the cutting looks, the way they always made me feel so small.
Then I heard her voice.
“Hey, isn’t that…?” Heather’s eyes scanned the room.
Please don’t look at me. Please…
But of course, she did. Her gaze locked with mine, and that same cruel smile spread across her face—the one she wore every single time she ruined my day.
“Well, well, well,” she said loudly, her voice slicing through the warm buzz of the restaurant. “Look who we have here. Still wiping tables, huh? Guess that’s all you ever amounted to.”
Her laugh rang out, fake and sharp, but her friends ate it up like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
My face burned, but I kept wiping the table, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted. I wasn’t that insecure high school kid anymore.
But Heather wasn’t finished. “Is this what you dreamed of back in high school? Cleaning up after people who actually did something with their lives?” She dragged her eyes over me like I was garbage. Hannah and Melissa giggled, nudging each other like they were at a comedy show.
Then Heather actually snapped her fingers at me like I was a dog. “Hey, waitress! Think you can manage some water for us? Or is that too advanced for you?”
My blood boiled. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it. I was about to speak when heavy footsteps sounded behind me.
Jack, our sous-chef, stepped out of the kitchen. He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing like a storm was brewing. “Hey. You don’t talk to her like that.” His voice was calm, but with a steel edge that could cut through stone. He planted himself beside me like a wall, and for the first time since Heather walked in, I didn’t feel alone.
Then Maria, our head chef, appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was fierce, her eyes flashing with fire. “If you’ve got a problem, take it somewhere else. We don’t tolerate disrespect here,” she said firmly.
Heather rolled her eyes, but I saw it—a flicker of unease. Still, she tossed her hair and scoffed. “Oh, please. We’re just being honest. Isn’t it a little sad? She’s hit rock bottom, and you’re all defending her?”
Jack didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, his voice steady and sharp. “She works harder in a day than you will in your entire life. Now, do you want that water, or are you done embarrassing yourself?”
One by one, the rest of my team gathered around me like armor. Sarah, our bartender, came over, rag still in hand. She stood tall, her gaze locked on Heather.
“We don’t tolerate that kind of attitude here,” Sarah said firmly. “If you can’t show respect, you can take your business elsewhere.”
Heather let out an exaggerated sigh and sneered, “We’ll just speak to your manager.” Her friends smirked as if they’d just played their winning card.
That was the moment I’d had enough.
I wiped my hands on my towel, straightened up, and met Heather’s smug gaze head-on.
“You already have,” I said calmly.
Heather blinked, confused. “What?”
“I’m the manager,” I told her, my voice steady. “Actually… I own this place.”
The words hit her like a punch. Her smirk dropped, her face draining of confidence. For once in her life, Heather Parker had no comeback.
The silence was heavy. Then suddenly, the restaurant erupted. My crew cheered, clapped, and hollered like we’d just won a championship. Jack slapped me on the back. Maria let out a triumphant cheer. Sarah whooped so loud a customer laughed from across the room.
Heather’s face turned beet red. She looked around, searching desperately for a way to save face, but nothing came. Her friends weren’t laughing anymore either—they were shrinking back, their smugness gone.
Jack grinned proudly, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “You’re looking at the best boss we’ve ever had,” he said. “She’s out here cleaning tables because she cares about her people. She could’ve left Beth hanging, but that’s not who she is.”
Heather stammered, “I… I didn’t mean anything by it.” But her voice was small, defeated.
Sarah crossed her arms, her voice sharp as a blade. “Maybe it’s time you left. We don’t need that kind of ugly attitude here.”
Heather’s bravado collapsed completely. She gathered her things, and with her friends trailing silently behind, scurried out the door. The bell jingled as it shut behind them, leaving the air in the restaurant lighter, almost glowing.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My team was buzzing with energy, pride radiating off of them. Sarah shook her head, grinning. “That was something. Instant karma.”
I laughed, my chest swelling with pride and relief. Years ago, I would’ve given anything to escape people like Heather. But now? Now I was surrounded by people who respected me, in a place that was mine.
“Karma,” I said with a smile, “served with a side of justice.”