James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book Two

Twenty-Seven

CLAIRE

It had always been my uncle's dream to have his restaurant. He immigrated from Mexico and settled in California with my dad, working towards becoming a U.S. citizen. When my mother passed away, he became a citizen and promised to help my dad provide a happy life for Shawn, Carter, and me.

My uncle had crafted Junkies Diner's front door from refurbished metal, and as you entered, the aroma of delicious air-fried buffet food filled the air. The floor was sturdy concrete; he had made the booths using old junkyard cars that he had skillfully repurposed. A light bulb hung above each table with a dangling string. Tools and heavy tires adorned the walls while they fashioned pushcarts out of old toolboxes. A cherished photo of my family, filled with joyful smiles, illuminated under the moonlit windows at the front, visible to everyone.

"What can I get for you?" my uncle, Martine, asked as we squeezed into the booth nearest the entrance. James held my hand, offering reassurance.

"I'll have the Junkyard chicken with air-fried potatoes," Noah ordered.

"Same here," the rest of us muttered. I shrugged.

"Alright, I'll pass on your orders to Kyle," my uncle smiled before walking away.

"So, does your uncle know about you and James?" Mark observed. I shook my head, pressing my hand against my stomach under the table.

"Some of our family members know, but it's relatively new," Shawn answered.

"He means it's a recent relationship," Noah chimed in. James rolled his eyes, and I squeezed his hand, expressing my support.

"That's what I said," Shawn muttered.

"It didn't sound that way," Noah defended himself.

"Don't be rude," Mark growled at Noah. Suddenly, my uncle surprised all six of us, appearing at the front of the booth and tapping his digital pen against his pad.

"Any drinks for you all?" Five of us shook our heads while Bryce nodded. "I heard you guys have spicy cucumber limeade here?"

My uncle chuckled. "Of course we do, kid."

"I'll take one of those," Bryce replied. My uncle entered the order into his pad and smiled. "I'll get right on it," he said before walking away.

"Are you going to tell him?" Bryce urged.

A sudden gun click caught everyone's attention at the front of the restaurant. A woman screamed in fear, and everyone sought cover behind the buffet bar. But the rest of us froze at the table like sitting ducks.

"Hey, sweetheart. Where's Gary?" the gunman asked, addressing me. We sat there in stunned silence. James, Noah, and Mark pulled their hoods over their heads. Were they about to do what I feared? James quickly got out of the booth with his hands raised.

"Not to be rude, but guns can be dangerous," James said. The man pointed the gun at James, who stepped back. James briefly locked eyes with me before refocusing on the criminal. "Okay, I'll back off. Just calm down."

The gunman then aimed his weapon at the five of us still at the table. "Get up," he demanded. Bryce covered himself with his hoodie, and the boys slid out of the booth to join James.

"Don't even think about playing the hero. Your parents will be planning your funeral tomorrow."

James patted my shoulder, and I looked at him. His voice momentarily soothed me. "Run and hide," he whispered. I ducked under the table, and Shawn and I crawled past them.

Mark knocked over the pepper shaker on the table and grabbed the salt. "Should we do our  thing?"

My boyfriend shook his head. "Are you serious?" James whispered.