She scribbles my order into her pad and looks between Drew and Parker. “And for you all?”
“The same,” Parker says.
“Me too,” Drew answers. “But I'd like ham instead. Please.”
“Alright,” she says, clicking her pen. “It'll be out in just a few minutes.”
“Do you even like pancakes?” I ask them after she leaves.
“I love pancakes,” Parker says, but he isn't looking at me or smiling. He's too busy glaring a hole into the cook staring at us through the pick up window.
Drew reaches across the table and takes my hand between his. He isn't looking at me, either. He's engaged in a staring contest with the busser across the room who couldn't be more thansixteen. “I've never had butter pecan pancakes, but all pancakes are good.”
“I thought Recovery was neutral grounds?” Parker asks, still focused on the cook.
“Recover itself is,” I tell him. “But the land around it is protected by several packs. Do you not read anything?”
He glances at me, then back at the cook. “I had no reason to research Recovery, Miss Leaves Her Whole Life Sitting on Her Dresser.”
I laugh and more heads turn toward us. “Sorry,” I whisper to them.
Drew squeezes my hand. “Don't ever apologize for laughing. I don’t think there are any wolves here, but people are staring too hard. I don't like it.”
“Wedon't like it,” Parker amends. “Which packs watch over this area?”
“It runs in cycles. I don't know which one is currently watching over things, but Pack Reynolds, Pack Shouse, and Pack Dillon share the responsibility.”
“Maybe they're human sentinels?” Drew suggests. “We have a few humans who we trust.”
I nod. “Probably. We have humans who help us out, too.”
“How long do you think it will take your father to get here?” Parker asks, finally looking away from the cook to start tearing open packets of sugar to dump in his coffee.
“Maybe an hour and a half. We can eat slow. It'll be fine.”
“You're very optimistic,” Parker says, pouring in three tubs of cream. “There were a lot of eyes on us until just now.”
“You're very paranoid,” I counter. “Wolves and humans are nosy. Wewalkedhere and they all saw us coming. This isn't exactly a pedestrian-friendly area, if you haven't noticed.”
“Well,” he hums, and stirs his coffee. “I still don't like it.”
Drew stops staring down the busser and takes a sip of his coffee. Flat black, easy to remember. “It's fine. Are you feeling alright, Genie?”
My cheeks heat at the connotation. “I'm okay. Just hungry.” I'm sore and the hike through the woods surrounding Recovery and the following uphill stroll to get to this diner didn't help anything, but I'm alright. It's a good soreness.
Our waitress comes back with our plates balanced on a big tray with two bottles of syrup and a coffee pot. “Here we are,” she says cheerfully, putting our food in front of us. “Two bacons and a ham. Let me top off your coffee. You need anything else right now?”
Neither Drew or Parker answer and I roll my eyes at them. “No, thank you. We're good.”
“Alright, then. I'll be back around to check on you.”
I wait until she's back behind the counter before picking up my fork and forcefully cutting into my eggs. “You're being rude.”
“It isn't intentional,” Drew says, picking up the syrup. “We're on edge. You're sweet enough to make up for our grumpiness.”
He's right. They are on edge. I can feel it. But how grouchy can a person be with a steaming plate of pancakes in front of them?
We eat every bite of food on the table. We take our time and there isn't even a crumb left when I watch through the wide front window as my dad's car pulls into the parking lot. At least my mother isn't with him. She can become overwhelming so fast. But my dad? He was extremely angry about Drew's rejection when I left. He sounded fine on the phone, but I think this is about to be the most awkward ride home in history.
