Weekends at the diner are always crazy busy. It’s one of the few places that is open twenty-four hours, where you can get breakfast all day, and so it’s popular with the local college kids during the week and even more crowded on the weekends with people coming out after hitting Lancaster’s downtown bar scene. Corinne works the late night shifts so she can take her business classes during the day at Millersville University. She’s going to get an MBA if it kills her—and sometimes, it feels like it might.
She does envy those students who come rolling in around two a.m. with cash to spend on platters of pancakes they leave half-eaten and wasted. They leave her tips in stacks of pennies and nickels hidden beneath the lettuce they took off their cheeseburgers. Mostly, she envies them the ability to go to school and keep playing on their parents’ dime while she toils away at this job that breaks her back and kills her feet, just so she can get her degree.
There’s one group in particular that both amuses and annoys her. Three, four, five younger guys who seem to have known each other since elementary school, based on the nicknames they use for each other and how comfortable they are with casual, physical contact. Squeezing into a booth, hips and shoulders pressing, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, feet on each other’s laps. At first she’d assumed they were gay and crazily brave enough to flaunt in front of this rural city’s judgment, but they’ve been coming into Triton’s long enough now that she sees they’re not gay. More like brothers, a pack of them, forged by friendship and not blood.
Reese is the quiet one. He always orders the same breakfast. Two eggs over medium, wheat toast, hash browns, coffee, and every few weeks, he adds a single pancake. He uses cream and sugar in his coffee but only a little syrup on the pancake, and he always, always leaves her a nice tip of folded dollar bills tucked beneath the edge of the plate.
Reese has a crush on her. Corinne knows this because she catches him watching her as she takes care of the other tables. When he thinks she can’t notice him, he stares, but every so often she’ll look up into the diner’s mirrored interior and let her gaze move across the room, deliberately seeking out the sight of Reese’s long-distance worship. On the nights when he doesn’t come in, she finds herself still looking for his reflection.
Tonight, they’re short-staffed and overcrowded. People wait for tables even though it’s nearly two in the morning, and anyone with any sense would’ve gone home to bed by now, grouchy Corinne thinks as she weaves and bobs to get around Dino, the busboy, who’s trying to clear off a table so she can seat someone else. Corinne’s so busy she barely notices when Reese and his friends come in, at least until she finds herself at their table. They’re jostling and joking, causing a ruckus as usual. Except for Reese, in the far corner.
At the sight of him, every bad feeling she’s had this entire night, all the shitty tips and messed up orders and rude patrons…all of that melts away when she sees Reese’s smile. He’s a gust of clean, fresh air, and she breathes him in. For a moment it’s like they’re the only two in the diner, but only for a blink, because she shakes herself back into the real world. No time for goo-goo eyes. She sees him watching her in the mirrors as she walks away, and for the first time in all the months he’s been coming in here, Corinne lets her gaze meet his in the reflection.
She smiles.
After a few seconds, Reese smiles too.
The next hour is a blur of coffee and late-night orders, but she keeps an eye on the clock for four a.m. Her salvation. Her shift will end, and she’ll be able to finally get home, grab a steaming shower, and slip into bed. It’ll be Sunday. She doesn’t have class, and she won’t have to go back to work until Monday night.
So caught up in the rest of the work, she doesn’t notice when Reese’s group heads out, leaving piles of cash on the table and Reese sitting alone, waiting for the check. She notices the look in his eyes though. Oh, yeah. She notices that, for sure.
“I’m about ready to go off shift,” Corinne says as she scribbles the total on the bill and passes it to him. “If I leave before you’re ready, you can take it to the register.”
“I’m ready now.”
The words leap from her lips, coasting on a smile. “Are you? You sure?”
Reese doesn’t smile. He nods, his gaze never leaving hers. He’s lined his icy eyes with dark liner that make them stand out even bluer. It’s not a look she usually goes for, but something about this guy flips Corinne’s switch.
“Yes. I’m sure,” he says.
As far as come-ons go, it’s subtler than she’s used to, but that’s what she likes about him. He’s waiting for her outside when she comes out, and she somehow expected that. His shoulders are hunched, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, and he’s blowing out a few frosty breaths into the late November chill.
“Are you coming home with me?” she asks.
“Yes, please.” He smiles.