27. Tristan
TRISTAN
I hate shit like this. I hate the small talk.
But Winter wants to support her friend, and I’d do anything to make her happy, so here we are at David’s Diner of all places.
It’s Paris Hastings’ birthday, and I’m not sure why she would pick this place.
The Moretti triplets treat her like she’s their real sister.
They would have let her have a party wherever she wanted.
I’m probably missing a bunch of information because it doesn’t involve Winter so I simply do not care.
We’re here, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I don’t think you can even find this place on the internet, and I think that’s a very good thing.
How is it still in business? At the very least, how has it not been shut down?
There’s an older woman with yellow hair and a cigarette wrapping silverware at the front payment counter.
I watch as she picks up a butter knife by the wrong end with her bare hand and wrap it anyway.
She rubs her hand through her poofed up hair that’s pinned back on the sides and grabs a fork by the wrong end.
For as grimy as this place is, most of the booths are full.
The patrons are probably truck drivers if the parking lot is any indication.
The diner smells like burnt coffee, fryer oil, and something too sweet.
Maybe syrup or powdered sugar? Whatever it is, feels like it’s sticking to the back of my throat.
Vinyl booths line the wall, cracked and scuffed.
The checkerboard floor is worn down where a thousand shoes have dragged it flat.
A neon sign buzzes in the window, cheap pink light bleeding into the room that says closed.
I guess the silverware lady didn’t turn it off when she came in this morning.
Winter doesn’t seem to see this place like I do, because she’s looking around in wonderment like it’s the coolest place she’s ever been.
This is the same girl who, when she saw the grand entrance of the Black Crown Resort, didn’t bat an eye.
Her hand fits in mine so perfectly, and I’m still getting used to the fact that I can just hold her, kiss her any time I want.
She pulls me toward the booth where Madi is already tucked in, on her knees and arranging the raggedy looking table with presents that she, Lilac and Winter wrapped last night while they drank wine and pretended to eat the gross cookie concoction that Callum swore was his grandmother’s recipe.
Even Hayden wouldn’t eat any, and that says all I need to know right there.
Pink, white and green wrapping paper with bows, flowers, stripes and polka dots are stacked at her elbow like she’s building a little fort of gifts.
Hayden’s sitting next to her, but he doesn’t even look up to acknowledge us.
He’s smelling her hair like a fucking weirdo, and I know exactly how hypocritical I sound right now.
It’s weird when he does it, but completely necessary when I dip my head and take a deep breath of Winter because that’s all I need to get through this fucking shitshow.
I didn’t know when Madi and Lilac became friends with Paris. To be fair, everyone here, Winter excluded, could catch on fire and I wouldn’t notice.
Winter leans away from me to squeeze Madi’s arm and says softly, “This is perfect!” The way she says it makes something in my chest loosen. She’s so relaxed, and even though I’ve mentally bitched about everything I’ve had to do today besides being with my girl, I’m relaxed too.
We spent so much time being on edge, and it’s so nice to just be present, to watch my girl enjoy her life. Her life with me.
Lilac comes in the front door, all perky and sunshine, holding the door wide for Callum.
He’s holding her purse and a bundle of pink roses in one hand and has a huge cake balanced in the other, white frosting and little pink bows piped on top.
I can only assume that he threw a fit that he didn’t want Lilac to have to lift a finger to carry anything.
Lilac beams as she makes her way over to our table.
I tune out when she starts telling the girls about how the cake was almost ruined, but she was able to tweak the flour, and that's how she chilled the frosting before she dressed the cake. Callum just watches. He watches like he’s memorizing her mouth, the way she lights up.
I think he’s dopey, but very loyal even to me and Hayden. He does love that girl, and I can’t downplay that in the least.
Hayden scoffs loud enough to spoil the moment, but he’s not saying anything Callum and I aren’t thinking. “How the fuck did Paris find this place anyway?”
Madi elbows him without missing a beat. “She’s super sweet.
She doesn’t really have anyone she’s close to other than the triplets now that her friend Blair left St. Augustine, and we’re going to make her day really special.
” Hayden looks up at her, a grin on his face.
He leans in close to her and whispers something, making her squeal flirtatiously and playfully reprimand him for something that she clearly likes.
Lilac smiles. “She told me that she and her friend Blair used to sneak off campus after hours and come here to get mozzarella sticks and milkshakes. I think it’s nostalgic for her.”
I look at the menu like it insulted me personally.
Nothing on those glossy pages looks edible.
“Oh yes, the nostalgia,” I say flatly, which gets me a laugh from Hayden and Callum.
The truth is, I called in a favor from Benjamin because I’ve already paid him and his brothers back for the situation with my father.
They needed contact information of someone that Sebastian and I have helped out before.
This is the perfect opportunity to meet up with Benjamin without Winter getting suspicious.
Lilac tosses a finger at us, sweet and half-warning.
“We will stop and get you brats caviar on the way home since you’re too good to eat here,” she says, pointing first at Hayden, then at me, then wagging at Callum who is the only one who actually looks excited to be here.
I guess she knows him well enough that she wants to shut it down before Hayden and I get him riled up.
Callum flips through the menu slowly, and I’d imagine he’s in deep-fried heaven right about now.
A few men come and go out of the main entrance, but then the door swings wide, and Paris steps inside.
Benjamin is a half-step behind her, the line between them thin and obvious.
He moves like he was made to fit right beside her.
He and I don’t talk about our personal lives, but I recognize myself in him.
He’s ruthless, sure, but there’s something different about him than his brothers.
He’s completely consumed by the only girl he’s not supposed to have.
To add insult to injury, he’s got all that Black Crown Society shit going on.
I don’t know all the details, but I don’t think he has a say in if she’s initiated and who she ends up with.
I don’t fucking envy him on that front.
Paris hugs Madi first, all warmth and squeals, then folds into Winter and Lilac like she’s sliding into a place that’s been held for her. It’s performative and real at the same time, like she practiced gratitude in a mirror and made it look effortless. Black Crown will do that to people.
Benjamin doesn’t smile. There’s a protectiveness in him that’s both ugly and beautiful.
Finally, Noah strolls all loose and lazy.
He slides into the booth next to Callum, and immediately agrees that the menu “looks good as fuck.” This sets Hayden off, but Madi rubs her hand over his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes so whatever he was about to snap at Noah dies out.
Elijah finally makes his way inside and over to us.
He looks pissed, and not present at all.
He’s looking around the diner like he’s looking for someone in particular.
Madi, Lilac and Winter work busily to get the candles going on the cake and move it to the end of the table toward where Paris is standing.
The candles flicker as the whole table, Callum being the loudest, breaks into a messy, off-key chorus of Happy Birthday . Paris leans forward, hair falling forward as she blows out the flame. Ben is right there at her side, grabbing her hair and pulling it back as the smoke curls into the air.
That’s when it happens.
Some asshole making his way up to the front, presumably to pay his table’s tab, staggers too close to Paris. His hand skims Paris’ backside, and he squeezes. The touch is greasy, entitled, and my eyes instantly flash to Ben because I know exactly what I’d do if that happened to Winter.
I’d rip this place apart after I killed that motherfucker.
Lilac must have been around Hayden, Callum and I long enough to sense what’s about to happen, because she swipes the cake off the table and moves out of the way.
Benjamin is quick. One second he’s standing beside Paris, the next he’s got the guy by the neck and slams his face down on the table. The wood splinters right where the guy’s face landed.
The whole place erupts. The silverware lady yells at us, rushing toward our table, but instantly stops when we all give her a look to back the fuck off.
Benjamin was not out of line here in the slightest. Noah doesn’t bother with words, instead he silently grips the asshole by the back of his shirt and drags him out of the diner like he’s hauling trash to the curb.
I’m glad this happened because maybe we can get out of here sooner rather than later. Because the only thing I’m waiting for is Winter. To leave with her. To have her close again. Everything else is just a chore, and I’m already over it.
The door opens again, and it’s Noah, but that’s not what has Paris gasping. She bolts out of the booth, colliding with a girl in a faded apron and scuffed sneakers. Paris’s laugh carries over the chatter at our table. Callum is taunting Hayden with the prospect of having sauerkraut for lunch.
“Blair! What the hell—” Paris sounds so happy to see her friend.
I look over at Elijah because I know he won’t hold the same sentiment. You can see it land on Elijah’s face before he even opens his mouth. He looks like he’s been sucker-punched.
When Paris happily drags Blair over to our table, it’s Elijah who speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re working at a place like this?” His voice cuts low.
Blair stiffens, chin lifting. “Because it’s not your business.”
He moves, stepping in close to the brunette girl and handing her a folded up card from the pocket of his dark jeans. “It is. Call me.”
Her eyes flash angrily to him, and then she looks at Paris and says, “Happy birthday. I hope you have the sweetest day. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.” She doesn’t throw any of us another look before she storms away and through what I assume are the kitchen doors.
Elijah curses, jaw tight, and stalks out the front door, leaving the whole place staring after him.
Benjamin leans across the booth, casual like nothing just happened, and slides a small velvet box into my hand under the table. No one notices. I curl my fingers around it, because this is going to make my girl smile.
Callum claps his hands once, loud and clearly cannot read the room because he says, “Alright, who wants a goddamn ice cream sundae?”
Winter slips her hand onto my leg under the table and looks up at me, shaking her head because this birthday is not going the way anyone planned. I lean down and kiss her lips softly, smiling because I’d take these problems over the ones we used to have any day.