Mel’s Drive-In on Geary Blvd was a hopping, 1950’s style hamburger joint that pleasantly assaulted the senses with its red and white décor, chrome details, and posters of the movie American Graffiti on every wall. The air smelt of French fries and milkshakes. On the jukebox, Chuck Berry sang about a country boy named Johnny B. Goode.
“I’m in love already,” I said, plopping down across from Max in a red-upholstered booth.
“With Sawyer the Lawyer?”
The question shocked me so much I nearly knocked my silverware into my lap.
“What? No. With this diner! It’s super cute.” I shot Max a dirty look. “Why on earth was that your first thought?”
Max held up his hands. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of the American Graffiti posters himself, with his gelled hair and black leather jacket. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Dar,” he said with a grin. “I took a shot.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Well, I’m not. I’ve been in love hundreds of times. I know what it feels like. It’s not like that with Sawyer. It’s…not the same.”
Max raised his eyebrows.
“Never mind.” I flapped my hands at him. “There is no ‘with Sawyer’ anyway. I babysat for him earlier today, and left his place without making a fool of myself.” I held up my hands. “And here I am.”
“Here you are, looking radiant,” Max said, a dry grin on his lips. “Hence, my supposition that it was Mr. ‘the Lawyer’ who was responsible.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop. I met the guy a few days ago. Even I don’t fall that fast.”
“Right. You need a week, minimum.”
I chucked a sugar packet at him, as a waitress wearing a 50’s uniform with a cap on her head appeared. Her nametag read Betty.
Betty put a pen to her pad. “You ready, hon?”
“I’ll have a jack cheeseburger—extra pickles—fries, and a Coke with three cherries in it,” I said, and gave Max a scolding look. “And bring him something to put in his mouth before I get mad.”
Max laughed, and ordered a bacon cheeseburger, fries and a root beer.
“I thought you were all for me not getting involved with someone,” I said when Betty had gone.
“I don’t know,” Max said with a wistful smile. “I have my own good days and bad. Today wasn’t great. Your happiness seems more like something to boost up instead of tear down with a bunch of warnings.”
My heart ached a little, and I reached my hand across the table to hold his. “What happened?”
“Nah, it’s nothing,” Max said, smiling thinly. “I’m the sponsor. I’m supposed to have my shit together.”
“The meeting’s not until nine,” I said. “You’re not on the clock yet.”
“I’m always on the clock.”
“I just smashed the clock.”
He chuckled, then heaved a sigh and sat back in the booth. I put my hand in my lap and listened.
“My parents caught me with a guy when I was sixteen. So nine years ago. They didn’t take it well, especially considering they hadn’t known I was gay. They disowned me, kicked me out.” He shook his head, his blue eyes heavy. “God, my life is such a cliché.”
“It’s not,” I said. “It’s what happened to you. Go on.”
Max toyed with his fork and waited while Betty set down our drinks and hurried off again.
“I’d met this guy. Travis. He was a little bit older than me, in college at the University of Washington.”
“Seattle?” I asked. I popped a cherry into my mouth. “Is that where you’re from?”
Max nodded. “Travis was a good guy, too. He was good to me. N