"Are you asking me or saying that's where you want to go?" He pulls a cigarette from his pocket, and I look over as we pass a couple placing flowers on a tombstone.
Smoke blows behind his head to tease my nostrils. "That's where we're going."
Following the orders of the 'Seat Yourself' sign, we find a spot in the back of the diner at the very end of the submarine shaped space. Everything is very stereotypically decorated; yellow and red seats and tables, striped uniforms, and an open kitchen. It's old fashioned and maybe a little disgusting if you look too closely at things, but the atmosphere is homey. Grabbing a 'daily specials' menu from between the ketchup and mustard bottles, I peek at Rhys over the laminated edge. I'm guessing since it's laminated, the daily specials are the same every day.
"Are you going to look at the menu or keep being a weirdo?" His eyes find mine as he settles back in his seat, and I purse my lips. He wasn't even looking at me.
A waitress walks by, arms full with two trays of food, and a wide smile cast our way, "One minute honey, and I'll be right with you."
I offer her a small smile, turning my attention back to the menu. Dinner decided, I slip it back between its spot by the condiments. "Are you not getting anything?"
Rhys shakes his head, fingers tapping on the back of the booth. "I'm going to smoke." He slips from the booth as I watch him, my heart picking up just the slightest bit at the thought that he might be ditching me. It shouldn't matter, but it does. His hand reaches out to chuck under my chin, the straight line of his teeth peeking from between his lips, "I'll be right back."
The touch was hardly sweet, but my chin chases after his fingers as he pulls them away. "Okay." Twisting in my seat, I watch him walk out the door, can just barely see him standing on the other side of it.
Turning back around, my hands twist in my lap as I wait for the waitress to come back. Looking out the window to my right, my reflection stares back at me. Raising a hand, I smooth a few flyaways that have managed to escape my pony, pull the sleeves of my hoodie over my palms when I look away. The waitress from before pops in front of the table with a glass of water that is set in front of me, and I return the smile she gives me.
"What can I get you, honey?" Her pen is ready at her notepad, pretty brown eyes shifting to look at another booth when someone raises their hand.
"Uh, can I get the club sandwich?"
"Sure, what kind of side do you want? Chips or fries?" Her eyes bounce between my face and the notepad.
"Fries, please."
"Got it. Anything else? Something besides water?"
My eyes shift from her to look out the front door where I last saw Rhys. "Water is fine, but can you bring another glass?"
She nods, tucking her pen, and notepad into the apron wrapped around her waist. "Of course, is someone meeting you? I can hold onto your order until they get here."
Frowning, I shake my head at her. "No, he's already here. He's just outside.",
"Oh! I didn't see anyone here with you, but I'm running on two hours of sleep, so that could explain it. Sorry, honey. I'll get your food out for you and get that water brought over."
She spins away from me with another smile, moving toward the other booth. She's clearly sleep deprived but seems nice. Another ten or so minutes go by, and she sets a glass of water and my food onto the table with a quick "let me know if you need anything else." just before Rhys comes back inside. I didn't see him come back in but he flops into the booth across from me smelling like tobacco and smoke.
"You were outside a while." I take a bite of my fry, watching him watch me. We've never done anything like this before, something as mundane as eating in public. It seems like neither one of us knows how to act.
His arms stretch onto the back of his seat as he leans back, a smirk on his lips. "Tell me more about your Nana."
I swallow down my fry, picking my sandwich up with a slight shake in my fingers and a yellow glow in my ring. "Why are you so interested in her?"
He shrugs, eyes wandering over the other people in their booths. "I sit on her grave with you almost every day. Seems like I should get to know the lady."
Taking a bite, I consider his answer. I guess it makes sense. "I moved in with my Nana after the fire. I had only met her a few times before that, so it was weird at first, but my Nana was a very persistent lady. She burrowed and wormed her way into my trust. She was kind, probably one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was always trying to help people, always lending a hand whenever she could. I don't know how she did it, but she somehow made everyone feel important. She had a way about her that just called to people." I eat a fry, my gut feeling tight and nauseous over the conversation. "She made me feel wanted and loved and accepted from the moment I stepped into her life, even if it took me a bit to trust what I was feeling."
Rhys's eyes follow my hand as I grab my glass of water, flicking from my fingers to my face. "Why didn't you know her before that? Before the fire."
Setting the glass down, I trail my finger through the wet ring of condensation that's accumulated on the tabletop. "From what I could get out of Nana, she and my father weren't close."
"Why?" My chest pinches at his question, my eyes slightly narrowing. He knows this isn't a subject I like to talk about, and he's deliberately pushing my boundaries.
"I don't know."
His arms drop from the back of the seat, elbows resting on the tabletop. "I think you do."
I push my plate off to the side, no longer hungry because of the conversation. "How could you possibly know what I know? How could you know anything?" I realize my voice has raised to an inappropriate level with my anxious anger, a few heads turning my way. I force back a low breath to calm myself. I'm letting him work me up over nothing.