Her boyfriend, Camdon or Brandon or whatever his name is, tosses Callie his wallet and says, “Gotta take a leak.”
They exchange a kiss—which, I mean, why? Is he going to drown in the toilet?—and Callie looks back at me with a sympathetic smile. “Okay, so could we get a number one with a Dr Pepper. No tomato and extra grilled onions. Swap those fries for tater tots, too, if you don’t mind. And I’ll have a burger. No cheese. And a kids’ fry.” Her smile turns conspiratorial. “Cheating on my pageant diet already. Boys are such a bad influence.”
“Ten dollars and seventy-four cents is your total.”
“This is probably weird of me to ask, but maybe one day me and El-bell could come over? I would love to, like, just talk to your mom about the pageant and the year she won. Like, in a casual way.”
I don’t even know this girl and she’s elbowing her way through my life like everything is hers for the taking. “I’ve been really busy,” I say, my voice deadpan.
She squints her eyes at me for a second before smiling and thumbing through her boyfriend’s wallet for a twenty. “Holy shit. Did you completely die when”—she lowers her voice—“Ellen told you about her and Tim’s oral mishap?”
“What?” I knew El was talking to Callie and not me about this stuff. I shake the surprise off my face. “Oh yeah. Totally nuts,” I say. “Your order will be out soon.”
I’m so mad. I knew this would happen. I knew that sex would create a rift between me and Ellen. But more than anything I feel inadequate.
Ron comes out from the kitchen and says, “We’re closing up, folks. You either take your food to go or you don’t take it at all.” I stuff Callie’s food in a bag and hand it to her as her boyfriend walks out of the bathroom.
After we’ve locked the lobby doors and have closed the register, I head to the kitchen to gather up some trash. “I’m taking this stuff out back.”
“Give me a few minutes,” Bo says. “I’ll help.”
When he’s done and Marcus has turned off the drive-thru lights, Bo follows me out the back door, each of us carrying several bags of dripping trash. As the door is about to swing shut behind us, Bo kicks a rock in between the door and the frame. He drops his trash to the ground and takes mine from me and tosses it over his head and into the Dumpster. He does the same with his bags.
“Thanks.” I turn to go back inside.
“Wait.” His fingers brush my elbow, and I suck in a breath. “Last night. I liked hanging out with you.”
“I know,” I say. “I mean, me too.” I reach for the doorknob.
“Willowdean.” His voice startles me. He’s so close I can smell his skin, thick with sweat.
I part my lips to respond, but he leans in, pauses for a second, and pushes my words away when his mouth meets mine. I don’t have time to think about his tongue in my mouth and how my tongue is answering his. Not sure what to do with them, I hold my hands at my sides, my fingers balled into a fist. He tastes like artificial cherry and toothpaste. I want to kiss him until my lips fall off.
He pulls away.
My first kiss. It’s the fastest thing that lasts forever.
The midnight air is hot and dry, but that doesn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around myself. I wait for the words—either his or mine—but nothing comes. The shock I feel is etched into his expression. I run my thumb along my bottom lip and walk back inside. He doesn’t stop me.
Closing takes forever. The dining room is a mess and so is the kitchen, but I barely notice because my thoughts are absorbed with Bo and my first kiss. My first kiss, which took place behind Harpy’s Burgers & Dogs and next to a Dumpster full of day-old trash.
Yet, it was perfect. Every bone in my body aches, like I’ve been in a car accident and there’s nothing physically wrong with me, but still I can feel the impact of it everywhere.