Chapter One #2
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?”
Eddie holds up a hand. “We’re gonna need a minute.”
She nods and quickly scurries away to get our drinks.
“You didn’t even look at your menu,” I mutter under my breath.
“I know what I like.” His eyes flick up to mine, and something curiously alarming blinks back at me. “In every aspect of my life.”
I look back at my menu; jaw clenching so tightly my teeth hurt. “Of course you do.”
“What about you?” he asks. “I bet you’re a grilled cheese girl. Simple. Basic. A little charred on the outside, but oh so ooey gooey and delicious underneath.”
“I am not a grilled cheese girl,” I snap, feeling a little sheepish. I actually was looking at ordering the grilled cheese, but there’s no way I’m going to now.
He grins. “I bet you get tomato soup on the side, too.”
“I hate tomato soup,” I lie.
Pippa smirks. “He’s got you nailed, Sis. You do love grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“Shut up, Pippa. Don’t encourage the delinquent.”
Wesley settles back against the seat. “Wow,” he mumbles, somewhat seriously. “This date is going terrible.” He’s smiling again. It’s dismantling and off-putting.
I snap my menu shut. “You keep calling it that and I’ll leave.”
He leans forward, placing his elbows on the table like a heathen, before folding his hands under his chin, trying to feign a fake innocence we both know he’s not capable of. “You won’t.”
“Oh really? And what makes you say that?”
“Because you’re still here. And as much as you hate to admit it, you like the banter going on between us.”
I hate that he’s right.
Linda returns with our waters and the most delicious looking milkshakes I’ve ever seen. The pencil returns, waiting patiently for the rest of our orders.
Pippa orders a salad she won’t finish. Hell, she probably won’t even take a bite. She’s not the kind of girl who eats in front of guys. Eddie, on the other hand, hesitates to order the same burger as Wesley, minus the pickles.
“And for you, dear?” she questions, turning to me.
Wesley waits for my answer. He knows what’s coming before it ever leaves my lips.
“I’ll take a grilled cheese with tomato soup on the side.”
She smiles at me. “The grilled cheese here is amazing. The chef puts three different cheeses in it. And the tomato soup is delicious; he makes it from scratch. You’re gonna love it.” She quickly takes the menus away from us as Wesley tries to suppress his giggles.
“Don’t start with me.”
He holds up his hands, his body shaking with chuckles. “Wouldn’t think of it, Grilled Cheese Girl.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He laughs even louder.
Pippa takes this as her cue to further things with Eddie.
“So,” she says, eyes glittering flirtatiously. “Maybe after this we could go for a drive or something?”
Eddie shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Wesley like he’s looking for backup. “Uh… I actually told my mom I’d be home kinda early tonight.”
“Oh,” Pippa mumbles, her smile faltering just a tad. “That’s okay. Maybe another time?”
“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Definitely.”
This is sad. Pippa’s chasing someone that’s not exactly interested in her. Every time she leans in, he slightly leans back. He’s not rejecting her outright; he’s just not matching her energy. He might like her, but not enough for a full-blown relationship. That’s the vibe I’m getting from him.
Wesley notices it too. His foot nudges mine under the table, and I practically jump out of my skin.
“Stop that,” I whisper.
“Just checking if you’re still awake.”
“I’m awake.”
“Good,” he says softly. “You get kinda quiet when you’re deep in thought.”
“I’m not deep in thought.”
“Liar.”
I glare at him. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
“Just enough to piss you off.” He grins, and it’s cocky—too cocky.
The only reason he’s still breathing is because Linda arrives with our food, placing the plates carefully in front of us.
I force myself to not take a bite, even though it’s out of pure stubbornness, and my stomach protests with a groan.
Wesley demolishes his burger within a few bites, then smugly eats his fries as he waits to watch me eat.
I tell myself I don’t care, and that I don’t notice how he watches me between bites, like I’m the only thing in the booth that matters.
I can ignore him.
I’ve ignored worse things before.
The only thing that can distract me is food, so I finally take a bite of my grilled cheese and immediately hate that Linda wasn’t lying.
It’s perfect. A sinful indulgence of cheese bliss that warms my tastebuds.
The soup is downright divine; the right blend of spices and tomatoes that makes grilled cheese dipping feel like a luxurious event.
For a hole-in-the-wall diner, this place knocked my grilled cheese out of the park, but I refuse to let my face show it.
I won’t let Wesley win.
But of course, he does anyway.
“See?” he murmurs. “I totally knew you were a grilled cheese girl.”
“I will stab you with my fork if you call me that again,” I threaten, holding my fork like a weapon.
“Whatever you say, GCG.”
“You’re impossible, and about to lose a testicle.”
He glances down at the metal prongs jabbing at his torso like a Katana. “You know, I think it might be worth it.”
Rolling my eyes, I go back to eating, doing my best to block out his stupid comebacks.
Across from us, Pippa steals a fry off Eddie’s plate, twirling it between her fingers, clearly trying to flirt, but failing miserably. “So, Eddie,” she says, leaning forward. “Are you a virgin?”
He chokes on his burger. “Excuse me?”
She purses her lips, smiling evilly. “Have you ever been with a girl before?”
Wesley chuckles. “He wishes.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she continues. “I bet you have girls just throwing themselves at your feet.
Eddie shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. “Sometimes.”
She frowns. “Ugh, I hate competition.”
Eddie’s smile spreads. “There’s no competition. Don’t worry.”
She beams proudly. “Hey, didn’t I hear you saying something about watching some horror movies this weekend?”
He swallows nervously. “Um, yeah.” He looks to Wesley to bail him out, but he’s too busy sipping the last of his shake out of the metal glass they gave him, the slurping obnoxiously atrocious.
Wesley swallows nervously when he notices everyone looking at him. “It’s kind of a guy thing,” he says, backing up his friend.
“Oh, so no girls are allowed?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.
Eddie coughs. “Umm, I’d have to ask the boys.”
Wesley snorts. “Don’t look at me, dude. If you want to add a girl to the group, go for it.”
“Shut up,” Eddie mutters, shooting him a panicked look.
Pippa laughs a little too loudly. “Well, maybe I could come hang out with you guys? I love a good horror movie, and I can be really fun.”
“I’m sure you are,” Eddie says politely, and that’s the problem. He’s polite. Not flirty. Not leaning in. Not inviting her to their weekend movie fest. She’s inviting herself, and she doesn’t notice the difference.
But I do.
Wesley nudges my foot again, gentler this time. “Does she always come on this strong?” he whispers.
Nodding, I dip my grilled cheese into the tomato soup. “Only when she wants something,” I mutter.
He keeps his eyes on his plate, not saying anything else.
As the evening goes on, Eddie loosens up a little, laughing whenever he can with Wesley. He even bumps Pippa’s shoulder once when she teases him about having ketchup on his chin. She lights up over the brief contact like it means everything.
It doesn’t.
By the time Linda drops the check, I’m emotionally overloaded and way too full of cheese. It’s definitely time to go home, but Pippa’s too busy giving Eddie hugs he’s not really returning.
The neon sign buzzes above us as Pippa pushes her hair back. “Well, I had a really nice time tonight, Eddie. I’m glad you invited us.”
“It was nice,” he agrees.
She stands there for a second, waiting for a kiss goodnight, but it never comes. He moves in for another hug, and she latches onto him, holding him longer this time.
The poor guy.
“Call me,” she says eagerly when she finally lets go.
“Yeah,” he replies. “I will.” Though he doesn’t specify when or if ever.
She smiles anyway, like he just promised her the world.
Wesley walks us over to our car as Eddie heads to his beat-up truck. Pippa lingers like she’s hoping he’ll turn around. When he doesn’t, she sighs and finally joins me and Wesley.
“I had fun,” she says, as if she’s trying to convince herself.
I squeeze her hand. “I’m glad.”
She gives me a look that says liar, then hops into her Mustang, but before she shuts the door, she glares at Wesley.
“Don’t traumatize my sister,” she threatens.
“No promises,” Wesley retorts, unable to hide his smirk.
I turn to face him, arms crossed in annoyance. “You can go now.”
He steps closer instead, lowering his voice. “Do you really want me to?”
“I’ve realized that watching you leave brings me great joy.”
His smirk spreads wickedly across his face. “I knew you liked my ass.”
“I—I do not,” I stutter.
The laughter that spills out of him has me even more annoyed. “Keep telling yourself that, GCG.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“It’s not my fault you love grilled cheese sandwiches.”
My hackles rise. “It was the only thing on the menu that looked appetizing.”
“And yet you ate it like it was Michelin starred.”
“I was hungry.”
He smiles. It’s softer now and less cocky, but even more dangerous. “Do you always fight things you love like this?”
I scoff. “If you’re insinuating that I love—”
“Grilled cheese,” he finishes for me.
“Right, grilled cheese, then you don’t know anything about me.”
“Maybe not,” he says, leaning in slightly. “But I know you’ve been waiting for this all night.” He dips his head, clearly aiming for my mouth.
That’s when instinct takes over, and my hand comes flying out of nowhere, vibrating off his cheek with a vicious crack that echoes through the parking lot.
“Oh my god,” I hiss. “What is wrong with you?”
Wesley freezes, slack jawed and stunned. His hand flies to his cheek, rubbing out the sting as that stupid smile slides across his face again.
He blinks once. Twice. Then takes a casual step backward, stuffing his hands in his pockets like he didn’t just try to attack my face with his unwanted lips. “It was worth a shot.”
My heart pounds violently in my chest, palm slightly stinging as I rub it softly. “You are unbelievable,” I shout, staring at him in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he says, still smirking. “But for two seconds you hesitated. Which means you were thinking about it.”
He doesn’t deserve an answer. I’m done giving him any of my time, so I turn on my heels before throwing open the passenger door of Pippa’s Mustang, my pulse erratic as my face burns uncomfortably.
“See you later, GCG!” he calls after me.
“Tell your criminal record I say hi!” I fire back, clearly flustered.
Wesley laughs all the way to Eddie’s truck.
The jerk.
Pippa smirks as I fight with her seatbelt.
“What?” I snap angrily when I see her watching me click it into place.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Absolutely not!” I argue. “He’s the worst.”
She dabs at her lips with some gloss in the rearview mirror. “And yet, you’re blushing.”
“Shut up, Pippa. Just take me home. I want to forget tonight ever happened.”
But I didn’t forget. That night has lived on repeat in my head.
And the worst part?
I didn’t know if I was angrier at Wesley for existing, or at myself for wishing I hadn’t slapped him quite so hard.