But most of all, I hate that against my better judgment, I walk inside, following him like a lost sheep, and he’s the shepherd leading me to safety.
The bell above the diner door jingles as we walk in, the smell of ten-day-old grease and cheap coffee hitting me like a wall. Red vinyl booths line the windows as neon lights buzz softly overhead. It’s loud in that comforting, clattery type of way: silverware hitting the table, laughter spilling in from a corner booth, and an angry Karen arguing with a waitress at the register about a mediocre slice of pie. It’s everything you see in movies and more.
“Sit anywhere, dolls. Be right with you,” an older woman with bright red hair pinned beneath a bouffant hairstyle orders, her withered features looking tired and worn out.
Pippa immediately moves into a booth next to Eddie, forcing me to sit next to… him.
Wesley slides into the booth next to me like it’s instinct, stretching his arm along the backrest with infuriating ease.
The second I feel his fingers touch my shoulder, I scoot as far away as physically possible without climbing across the table into Pippa’s lap.
He notices. Of course he does.
“Relax, baby girl, I don’t bite.”
“Gross, please don’t call me that. I’m not your baby girl.”
He shrugs. “Not yet.”
Eddie chokes on a laugh as he slides an arm up over the booth’s back, slightly touching Pippa’s shoulder, making her melt. “You’re feeling bold tonight, Wes.”
Wesley laughs. “I’m just determined.”
Pippa ignores them both, angling her body fully toward Eddie, her smile softening in a way that makes my chest ache for her. “So,” she says brightly, “how was work today?”
Eddie blinks like he wasn’t expecting the question. “Um, fine, I guess. The same as usual.”
“What do you do again?” I ask, trying to avoid eye contact with the winking Casanova sitting next to me.
He shifts to face me but looks visibly uncomfortable. “I work in my uncle’s garage. Doing mostly oil changes, but I’m still learning.”
“That’s still cool,” Pippa says excitedly. “That means you’re good with your hands.” The innuendo is evident, and she’s laying on the goo-goo eyes a little too thick.
I shoot her a look that she blatantly ignores.
Wesley grins. “Careful, Pippa, you might make the poor guy bust a nut if you keep looking at him like that.”
“I’m just being nice,” Pippa snaps, her cheeks a little too red. I guess she didn’t realize how forward she was being.
Eddie scrubs the back of his neck and scooches away from her just a tad.
She doesn’t notice.
I do.
The waitress breaks the awkwardness by slapping some menus down onto the table. “I’m Linda. I’ll be serving you tonight. What can I get ya to drink?”
I grab my menu like it’s a shield, blocking his megawatt smile like it’s being shot out of a cannon on an enemy ship.
Pippa and Eddie both pick up their menus and start looking them over.
Wesley doesn’t bother touching his.
The waitress takes a pencil from the back of her ear and takes down our drink orders. Pippa and I both order water, while the two boys order chocolate milkshakes, but it’s Wesley that keeps ordering like she’s not supposed to come back first.
“I’ll have a burger,” Wesley informs her. “I want it medium with all the fixings, but can I get extra pickles?”
“Sure, doll. What about the rest of you?”
