Eventually I found myself standing in front of a diner.
The Bluebird. A blue eon sign buzzing in the window with half the letters burned out so it just read “Blu ird.”
Through the window I could see vinyl booths, checkered floor, a long counter with spinning stools. It was mostly empty—just a few people scattered at tables and a waitress refilling coffee.
I went inside.
The smell hit me immediately—old coffee, maple syrup, something fried and greasy. For half a second I was back at Penny’s in Brackett Lake. Blueberry pancakes melting with butter and Liam reaching across the table to wipe a crumb from my cheek.
Just a memory now.
I slid into a corner booth, the vinyl cracking under me.
A middle-aged waitress appeared almost immediately with tired eyes and a not so happy look.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She poured it from a pot that looked like it had been brewing since morning, set down a couple of creamers, and walked away.
I wrapped my hands around the mug and stared at the menu without seeing it.
The door chimed, but I didn’t bother to look up. Then someone slid into the booth across from me.
I looked up, startled.
The guy sitting across from me had warm hazel eyes and sun-tanned skin like he’d spent the whole summer by a pool. Brown hair that fell in silky waves, blond highlights catching the diner’s fluorescent light. He was wearing a worn hoodie from some indie film festival.
He grinned. “You look like shit.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You.” He pointed at me. “You look like shit.”
Something cold dropped in my stomach. “Who are—”
“I’m Ethan. Film and media studies. I’ve been trying to get access to film the crew team for three weeks.” He leaned back, completely at ease. “And you’re Alex Harrington. Legacy kid. Your great-grandfather built the boathouse. People talk.”
Who was this kid and why did he know so much about me?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.
Marcus
dude where are you, everyone’s asking
I set it face-down on the table.
Ethan watched me do it and curiosity flickered across his face. “That important?”
“It’s a team thing. Freshman crew bonding.”
“So what are you doing here instead of there?”
“What areyoudoing here?” I asked with my eyebrows raised.
Because seriously, who just sits down with a stranger and starts interrogating them. I wouldn’t say it—too polite.
