Yours Truly ❁ n.k.h

• chapter eighteen •

If there's such a thing as the nerves in your body creating major acts of villainy, mine were currently giving their chaotic monologue before the grand scheme.

My body felt like it was building up to something even if I knew in actuality there was nothing there.

It's just that... Okay, the annoying thing about Sawyer is that nothing you say to her is ever tabled. It's bound to come back up later. And through our entire conversation at Cook Out, that's exactly what I was afraid would happen.

"Do ya' know what you want?" The redhead asked after we stepped through the doors. I was still drinking it all in, but she'd already made a beeline for the menu. We were nestled behind some old couple and this guy who looked like he could blow a gasket at any minute.

Cook Out's interior was more of a woodsy type with some fairy lights here, college pendants there, a drink machine by the drive thru door, and a hall of bathrooms straight ahead to your right. Then the menu, smack dab in your face.

I lifted my head to see the words better. Everything here was stupidly cheap, at least in comparison to New York prices. One thing alone would probably set me back ten dollars back home. Here, fries were like $1.79. It was hard to contain the surprise on my face.

"I'll probably just get fries and a float— ooh, bacon wraps? Yeah, I think I'll get... I'm gonna get fries. Cajun fries, two bacon ranch wraps, and a coke float." I tallied.

"Their coke floats are good, I love their milkshakes. I think I'll get peanut butter."

I made a face, turning to her. "That sounds fucking disgusting. Holy shit, there's over a hundred flavors?"

She grinned, nodding along. "Yeah! I've tried almost all of them, but some are seasonal so."

"And out of every single flavor, peanut butter is the one that stuck with you?" I shook my head. "You're bugging. I could never willingly order a peanut butter milkshake."

My goal so far was to just keep her talking about menial shit. The more small talk we made, the less time we'd have to spin back to other topics.

She was just so damn nosy. Someone coming in to get a tattoo from me and looking 'cozy' isn't her business. Sometimes it's hard not to let her friendliness get under my skin. On some level I can understand that people are just this open, but if it doesn't concern you then why even bother asking? The answer isn't going to change your life anyway.

When the old couple and the antsy guy in front of us finally finished ordering, it was our turn. Sawyer ordered some hush puppies, that nasty ass peanut butter milkshake, and Cajun fries too. I started to say some shit about her meal, but she paid for us so I left it alone.

We moved off to the side near the bathrooms to wait for our food. I let my eyes wander for a bit before pulling out my phone. Sawyer was saying something while I was scrolling through my email but I wasn't listening.

All I kept looking at was my newest flagged email - my plane ticket. I still couldn't believe I actually booked the red eye. I'll really be on my way home tomorrow night.

I don't know what to expect. I feel nervous as fuck to see anyone and everyone. Part of me wants it to be a surprise but I don't know. I definitely don't want Dinah to know. My presence alone was already going to warrant the assumption that I came to talk. The last thing I wanted was to give her enough ammo for a secondary ambush. Plus it's my house too, it's not like I can't just come home. It is what she wanted me to do, anyway.