We drive for at least an hour, passing cities with large buildings and houses, ending up in farm land with horses and no buildings. We’re three towns over, I think.
“Seriously, where are we going?” I ask when I can’t figure it out. He doesn’t answer, so I start flipping his door handle back and forth. I’m about to lose it when we pull up to a little diner in the middle of a small two-lane highway. It’s called simply The Diner. “Original name,” I say as I get out of the SUV.
“Trust me,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door.
It jingles as we go inside, and it reminds me of Tasty’s. A familiar ache builds in my body as we sit down in a grungy booth with Formica tables. I’m betraying Dean. He’s suffering, and I’m here on a date that’s not a date. I try to picture what he would do if he saw me. He’d probably give me a contented smile, realize that I’ve decided to live even if for just a moment, then he’d run away and I’d never see him again. I may never see him again anyway. He could be dead now. A shudder passes over me, and I try to hide it.
Colter gives me a corny grin over the plastic menu. It has pictures of burgers and Coke floats, with people with fake smiles pointing to each item. “Everything’s good here, but the pie’s superior.”
I eye him suspiciously. “How’d you know I liked pie?”
“Janie told me.” He folds his menu up as the server comes our way.
Of course she did. I don’t even need a voice, my friends will speak for me.
The server’s perky and young and she glances a little too long at Colter. She has blunt-cut black hair with a streak of pink on the side, and skinny twig legs. But she’s different in a really good way, in a way I wish I could be. Jealousy burns my skin and makes my hair stand up. I try to tamp it down but it’s all-consuming. I hate that. I hate that he does that to me, makes me change my mood based on some other girl’s actions.
“Hey, Colt. What brings your cute butt out here on a Thursday?” she says.
I glance at her name tag—Penelope. She even has a cool name.
“What always brings me in here. Oh, Pen, this is Ellery, my . . . uh, friend.”
She gives me a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.” She turns back to Colter and shakes her head at him. “Bringing a girl to the diner your ex works at? Not cool.”
Colter lowers his head a little.
“It’s okay, we’re just friends. Like he said,” I say, directing the last part at Colter.
He lowers his head and creases his eyebrows, and I know I’ve screwed up again. Does he want more than that? Does he go around kissing his friends? I glance up at Penelope and try to see what Colter sees in her.
She laughs. “Oh, shit. Not me. Please; pretty boy is just too pretty for me,” she says, smooshing his cheeks together with one hand.
Colter gently removes her hand from his face and adjusts his jaw like she knocked it out of place. “Are you going to take our order or just fondle my face all night?”
She giggles. “Ah, I see. Sore subject.” She leans over to him. “She’s more than a friend, isn’t she?” She perks back up and gets out a small pad of paper and pen. “Don’t answer that.”
She takes our orders and we sit in silence when she leaves.
“Aly’s not working today, if you were wondering.” I must look confused cause he follows it with, “My ex.”
“Oh. Well, if she was, it’s no big deal.”
He sighs, then grabs my hand unexpectedly. Flames build slowly at his touch. “Ellery. I don’t want to just be friends with you anymore.”
“What?” I say, slipping my hand out of his.
He sits up straighter in the booth and clasps his hands together. “I know you think I’m with you because I want to save you. But really, I think you’re the one saving me.”
I huff a little. “You sound like a Nicholas Sparks novel.”
He grins, but it’s reluctant, like he doesn’t really want to. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“Please don’t.”
“You only speak in sarcasm.”
I shrug.
“Okay, I can work with that.” He adjusts in his seat again and lifts his chin. “It’s not like I want you to be more than a friend, it’s just that I’ve always wanted to sound like I’m reciting a Nicholas Sparks novel. It’s my dream,” he says with a cock of his head at the end of his statement. His expression can only be described as cute.
I fight not to laugh, but it doesn’t work and I end up giggling until I can feel sharp pains in my stomach.
“Is that better?” he says.
“I guess I can try. But no more Nicholas Sparks, okay? I want to keep my pie down.”
He holds his hand out to me and I shake it. “Deal.”
The pie comes, and it’s huge, and it’s a whole pie? “You ordered a whole pie? How much do you think I can eat?”
“The real question is how much I can eat. You don’t get this figure by eating rice cakes.” He gestures to his lean body and I can’t help but look. “I’m taking the rest home, don’t worry,” he adds, slicing a piece out for me first.