Smirt

It was a coincidence that he was here. But maybe it wasn’t. Truthfully, I was relieved to see him, even though he looked worn out and disappointed. Maybe he was sad that I reacted the way I did? I hadn’t meant to. It was an instant reaction; a defense mechanism. After Christofer and Carter were done eating, I had wrote on the back of the receipt: meet me at the park in fifteen minutes.

“See ya tomorrow, Dolli,” Percy, the chef, said as I untied my apron and placed it on the counter. “you’re doing good. And don’t think that I didn’t notice you staring at that boy.”

“Percy, what are you talking about?” I rolled my eyes and grinned, my face turning a light pink. “I was in the zone today. No distractions, no boys.”

“He was staring at you too,” Percy added nonchalantly.

“I didn’t know you were the town matchmaker, Percy.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He pointed at me with a spatula. “Just know that your grandma would’ve liked him.”

At this point, we both glanced at the photos hanging on the wall of the diner. The first was of my great grandmother during the grand opening. Beside it was of my grandparents, years later, in the same placement. I had always wondered why my great grandmother was standing alone in that photo. I had never asked my grandma before she passed away, and my grandpa had moved out of state. I worked at Edith’s for the sake of my grandma and what she loved the most: making people happy.

I missed her every time I went to work, but the diner reminded me of her. That revelation alone made me wake up before sunrise every day.

“You think so?” My head tilted to the side as I bit my lip.

“What are you still doin’ here?” said a female voice.

Both Percy and I smiled as Margot walked over, and then stood still, hands on her hips. Margot was the waitress who would either be your friend or enemy. She had a beehive hairdo, wore bright red lipstick, and had a Southern twang to be proud of. If you weren’t a rude person to her, she wouldn’t have to be convinced not to spit in your food. If you didn’t leave a tip, well, let’s just say she could do much worse.

“Hi, Margie.” My smile was pageant-worthy as I made my way towards the door.

“Not so fast, Dollipie,” Margot said, suspicion coating her words, “care to tell me why you have that lovestruck grin on your face?” Her serious face morphed into the same grin as mine suddenly. The realization dawned on her.

“Was it that boy with the tattoos?”

Percy nodded. “It was. She likes ‘em, Marge.”

“Is that so?” Margot approached me, reaching upward to pinch my cheek. “Go then, hon. He isn’t gonna wait around forever.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been closing the restaurant for a long time and---”

Margot opened the door and pushed me outside. “No, we’ll be just fine closing the diner today, sugar. Good luck!”

I shook my head and chuckled as the door shut. As I went to the park, my heartbeat accelerated, nerves settling, like butterflies in my stomach. What if he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say? What if he hates me? What if he doesn’t want my friendship?

I didn’t have much time to think about it, truthfully. This was due to the sheer fact that Christofer Drew Ingle was sitting on a bench in the park. He was sitting alone, elbows on the top of his knees. One hand curled into an almost fist, cradling his chin, while the other held a cigarette. He straightened up when he heard my footsteps.

“Hey, Chris,” I managed to say in a low voice.

“Hey.” He gave me a slight nod and offered a cigarette. I accepted, lit the cigarette, and sat down. Leaning back and making myself comfortable, we didn’t say a word.

“You talk first and I’ll listen,” Chris stated, sighing heavily. “Ok?”

“Okay, no problem,” I replied, taking a shaky breath to calm down.

It was now or never.

What did I have to lose?

Him.