A stack of empty plates swayed on my open palm nearly tumbling over and crashing onto a group of customers who had just straggled into the restaurant, their faces beat red and glistening with sweat. I shot them a small apologetic smile as they found a few open seats to the side.

"I'll be with you all in a moment," I said to them.

A few strands of my brown hair escaped the hold of my pony tail and tickled my forehead as I turned away and slipped into the back of the kitchen where I discarded the dirty plates and grabbed several new pairs of silverware.

"How are you doing?" My manager asked, her chocolate brown eyes filled with concern for me.

"Don't worry Charlotte, I'm fine."

"Alright. I'm sorry I can't get anyone else here to help. Everyone is off on vacation or busy. I didn't expect business to be so hectic today."

"Don't worry about it, we only have a few more hours," I replied, shoving the swinging door open with my hip. Charlotte smiled and nodded as I left, turning her attention back to the burger she was frying.

I shuffled over to the table where the customers who'd just come in had situated themselves. I passed out the laminated menus and set cups of ice cold water down in front of each of them.

"Hello, I'll be your waitress today. My names Rebecca. Can I get you drinks to start off with?"

"Uh sure," an elderly man started, "I'll have a coffee."

"Same."

"A coke please."

"I'll take a coffee too."

I nodded at the four and turned on my heel, headed back into the kitchen to retrieve the drinks that had been ordered. Placing them all on a tray, I maneuvered my way through the tables until reaching mine and placed all the drinks down.

"I'll give you all a few minutes to look the menu over," I said, turning around and glancing around the room. Another new customer had came in, sitting alone at a small round table we had tucked away in the back corner of the restaurant.

After making my way over to the person I realized it was a boy who couldn't have been much older than me. He was hunched over the table, his dark black hair flopping into his eyes. He hid behind the turned up collar of his leather jacket, barely paying me any attention when I stopped by his table.

"Hi. Could I get you a drink to start off with?"

"A Pepsi," he replied, raising his gaze to my face for a split second.

"I'm sorry we don't have Pepsi but I could get—"

"A water."

"Uh okay, sure. Just a water?"

"I didn't say anything else, did I?" The boy snapped rudely. I bit my lip, holding back a reply. Charlotte had always said that no matter how rude a customer, never be rude in return. It's bad for business. So obediently I just forced a small smile and shuffled off away from the table to grab the boys water.

I returned to his table just a minute later, glass in hand. The boy took the water and gulped it down in one sitting, slamming his cup back down on the table obnoxiously. When he was finished he looked up at me with an expectant look.

"What?"

"This is the part where you ask me if I'm going to order any food."

I felt my cheeks heat up, probably turning a tomato red. I hated how quickly I could feel embarrassed. It was always easy to make me blush. Thankfully, I recovered quick enough to not embarrass myself further. "Uh–do you want to order anything?"

"I'll take a blueberry scone."

"Alright, I'll have that out for you in a minute."

True to my word I was back with his muffin in just a little bit. Just before I left his table he asked for his bill and before taking anymore orders I grabbed it from the back and laid it on the table for him to pay.

For the next half hour I occupied myself with taking orders, taking and delivering food and clearing the messy tables. Glancing over to the table the boy sat at I noticed he'd left so I made my way over. He'd left a measly dollar as a tip. Frowning I pocketed the money and was about to turn away when a white triangle caught my attention. It was sticking out from beneath the salt shaker and was only visible when I grabbed the dollar.

I tugged on the white corner and pulled a scrap of paper with a message lazily scribbled across it in blue ink out from under the glass bottle. Inspecting it closely I realized it was addressed to me.

Rebecca,

My name is Ty and I know your secret. I need to speak with you, it's urgent. Call this number so we can figure out a time to meet up. I know you're probably confused and think this is some sort of prank, but I promise you it's not. I know that you're adopted and have a biological brother. I know about the surgery you had the day you were born and I know that you have a computer chip implanted and connected to your brain. So do I. This is why I need to talk to you. Please get in contact with me. 209-460-5939.

My breath hitched and a lump formed in my throat. He couldn't be serious. This had to be a joke—some sort of prank. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. I looked back at the note and reread it, only confirming the truth that the note was real.

How did he know any of that? The only people who knew were Matthew and Hannah, and I trusted them both with my lives. They would never tell anyone. Has he been stalking me? And what does he mean by 'so do I?' I didn't think anyone else was like me. The doctor who performed the surgery was just testing an experiment, and I was the unfortunate child he chose. There was no one else. That had to be true. This had to be a joke.

A sweet, thick voice broke through my racing thoughts. "Rebecca. Rebecca? You okay?"

My neck snapped to the side and I plastered on a smile, blinking a few times to register what was going on. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Uh–I got to go though."

"Your shift is over anyways. I'm closing up in a few," Charlotte replied, a mother-like smile gracing her bright, ruby red lips.

"Thanks Char. I'll see ya tomorrow," I called out, hanging my apron on the hook and tossing my bag over my shoulder.

Charlotte waved goodbye as I exited through the back doors where my old blue car was parked. Fishing the keys from my bag, I unlocked the car and started it up, blasting the air conditioner and radio. I loved driving. It was a time when I could tune out everyone else and be in my own little world.

The drive from the cafe to my house wasn't far, only fifteen minutes. The light blue house came into view as I pulled into the gravel driveway. My step sister Hannah sat on the porch swing that hung from the front decks roof.

"Hey Hannah," I greeted as I climbed up the stairs.

Her nose was buried in a fashion magazine and earbuds were plugged loosely in her ears. Once she'd caught sight of me she took them out and grinned at me. "Hey Reb," she chirped. "How was your day?"

"Fine," I said as I took a seat on the swing beside her. "Something really weird happened."

"What?"

"I got a note."

This caught Hannah's attention. She dropped the magazine she was engrossed in to her lap and turned to face me, eyes wide. "A love note? A note from a guy? Oh! Do you have a secret admirer?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "No Hannah. It wasn't a love note."

"Okay," she said dragging the 'ay' out. "So what was the note?"

"Well some guy came in today—"

"Was he cute?"

I sighed. "I didn't look."

"Yeah right!"

"Fine, he wasn't unattractive." Hannah squealed happily as I continued my story. "Anyways, he came into the cafe and ordered something. I was his waitress obviously, and he was really rude. He acted like I was stupid for asking if he wanted a drink, and then—"

"Get to the point!"

"Sorry," I mumbled. "So when he was leaving he left a tip, which was only a stupid dollar, cheapskate. But when I grabbed the money I seen a note on the table and picked it up to read." I paused to take the note out of my back pocket.

"So what did it say?" Hannah asked impatiently.

"Settle down. Just read it," I said, handing her the neatly folded paper. Hannah snatched it from my hands and ripped it open, her eyes scanning the words.

"Ooh, Ty, that's a cute name— wait what? What does he mean? What secret?"

"Keep reading."

"Wait. He knows that secret. How would he know?"

"I don't know."

"So he literally just left this note on the table in the open for anyone to read?"

"Well yeah, but I don't think that's really important right now."

"Sorry," Hannah apologized. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I guess I'll just send him a text. That wouldn't hurt, right?"

"No it wouldn't, unless something goes wrong."

"What could go wrong?" I asked.

"Something."

"Gee thanks, that's helpful."

"I try," Hannah said smugly, picking up the magazine from her lap and flipping the pages open to an article on the art of sun tanning. I sighed and stood up, dusting off my jeans.

I shuffled into the house and kicked off my flats, stretching the aching and cramped muscles in my feet. Matthew, my older brother, was laying on the couch lazily watching a show.

"Hey Matt!"

"Hey," he mumbled back.

I grinned at the tired goof and plucked a pillow from the rocking chair, chucking it at him. It bounced off the armrest and landed on his stomach. Instinctively I raised my arms, shielding my head from the pillow I expected to be hurled my way. But surprisingly, Matthew had barley moved when the pillow hit him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Uh—yeah. Yeah I'm fine."

I rolled my eyes. "Well that's convincing. Why aren't you looking at me you weirdo?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. Your hiding your face," I snapped, slightly worried. "Just look at me Matt."

Reluctantly Matthew shifted his body to show me his face, and when I seen it, I'd wished I didn't. Deep purple and blue contusions littered his tan skin. A dark bruise shadowed his chin, and his left eye was red and beginning to swell. He grimaced when turning toward me an I jumped up from my spot in the arm of the chair.

"Matthew! Are you okay? What happened?"

"I sorta made dad mad."

"Dad? Dad did this?"

Matthew nodded, followed with a wince. "Yeah he did."

"Uh okay, okay. So are you alright? What did he do?"

"I'm fine," Matthew said, forcing a weak smile. "I think he broke my hand, and it's sorta hard to breathe."

"You've got to see a doctor Matthew."

"I know," he replied gruffly and begrudgingly.

"Okay. I'm going to get Hannah. You stay!"

I whipped around, briefly hearing Matthew mutter something about 'not being a dog' but I didn't care enough to listen. Whatever he said wasn't important right now.

I hope you enjoyed the first re-written chapter of 'Computerized.' Let me know what you thought! Also, updates will be one to two times a week. Expect an update every weekend! :)