Cooper.

Ten.

My jaw drops violently. "Beg your pardon?" My voice cracks and rises an octave.

Our waitress returns to us, obviously a college student in her early twenties, her jet black hair chopped into an asymmetrical bob, her hazel eyes completely makeup free. "What can I get you?" Her voice is bubbly and flirtatious, until she sees me. I don't catch her name, I'm too busy meeting Frank's stare that's burning a hole in my cheek, "...and I'll be your server."

Maybe Frank will stop analyzing me for our blatantly self-promoting waitress.

Maybe not. He stares on, his eyebrows raised, still gauging my reaction to his announcement.

Frank's gaze keeps me frozen in place, as if a look from him was a bear trap. My heart felt as if it was going to leap out of my chest.

Without breaking the eye contact between us, he tells her, "Two medium vanilla chais."

"Anything else?" Out of my peripherals, I see her scratch down our order, casting a jealous glare at me. Really - her name tag says Kit - really, Kit?

"Tell whoever is cooking that we want two of Frank's usual." He slowly peels his eyes from me to look at the waitress, who's face suddenly pales.

"Frank Grevecci?"

"Mhmm." He nods, fighting  a smirk as the waitress suddenly regains her bubbly, friendly demeanor.

"Right away, Mr. Grevecci." She returns her notepad to her pocket and scurries into the kitchen as Frank returns his gaze to me, a half smile curling one side of his mouth.

"Mr. Grevecci?" I ask in disbelief, fighting laughter of my own.

Frank nods and leans backwards, stretching a little bit, chuckling quietly. "My mother and I have been very important lately." Suddenly the jovial attitude is gone, replaced by grimness. "And today, I discovered why."

Frank leans forward once more, and I find myself mirroring him.

"When the Global reps first came here, they had dinner  at my house. I just thought they were people from Mom's work...that happens a lot." He rolls his eyes. "But the other night, the Barbie Bitch from the first assembly and the fat guy from the uniform thing were at my house, talking to Mom about, well, me."

"What were they-"

I'm interrupted by the kitchen door banging open as an irritated Kit approaches our table, two tall lattes in her hands. She sets them down wordlessly, her motions jerky.

The bell rings, and a family comes in. Kit puts on her grinning façade and greets them, thankfully walking away.

"They want to send me away."

"What?"

Frank sips his latte, raising an eyebrow. "Yup. They told my mom that the way I behave is the 'opposite' of what they're trying to accomplish."

"And what did your mom say?" Disbelief coats my tongue, each of my words at a different pitch.

Frank pursues his lips, then takes another sip. For someone who is going to be ripped away from everything he's ever known, he's unnervingly calm. "She said there's no way. I'm her only son. She refused." Another sip. "But then Evil Barbie told her that they'd find a filler for me, and that they'd get me out one way or another."

"I-Frank-"

He holds up a finger and shushes me. "I didn't know that they were G.I. reps until we were at the mall, and I didn't know my mom worked for them until then either."

I absentmindedly stir my drink with my red and white straw. "So, you're saying-"

"My mom got off that helicopter this afternoon. My mom is joining Global. And I'm going to either be completely reforming or being shipped off to who-knows-where."

His tone is pained and sad, his eyes downcast, clearly miserable. Melancholy radiates off of him in waves, and for the first time in the lifetime that I'd known him, Frank was soft and sad, not cocky and brash.

He looks so vulnerable. I feel like I'm seeing something private.

Frank snaps out of his moment of brooding just  as Kit stiffly walks by. He snaps his fingers. "Make it to go, please."

She nods curtly, hate emanating from her short, stocky frame. Jesus Christ. She acts like I just killed her dog.

Within a few minutes, she exits the kitchen and drops two to-go containers on the table, silently placing the receipt down as well before storming off once more.

Frank refuses to let me see it.

Seriously?

I go to fish some money out of my pocket, but Frank waves me off.

No.

"I can pay for myself." I go to put nine down, not quite sure what my meal cost but well aware that my experience with Serverzilla wasn't worth nine dollars.

Frank pushes my hand back towards me, shaking his wallet. "I've got it. It was my treat."

"I'm a big girl-"

"You're also the guest-"

I lean forward, my hands on my hips, my money crumpled up in my left hand. "Grevecci."

"Cooper." He puts his hands on the table, leaning forward so far that our noses almost touch. I jerk back, leaving him cackling. "I knew that'd get you to move."

I put my nine dollars down on the table and bolt out of the restaurant, standing in front of Frank's car, admiring Main.

I was never one of the kids who hung out on Main Street. All of the small business and family run stuff was on Main or Elm, and none of these places held much interest for me. It was always the mall, or the building ruins on the outskirts of Kipling, or the skatepark, or the library. Not Main Street.

The car alarm beeps once, signaling that it's unlocked, but I wait until Frank is outside of the diner before I even attempt to open the door. Once he's out here, I get in.

"I thought you were a big girl, why didn't you get in?" He teases, his cocky demeanor back as he clambers into the driver seat.

I buckle. "Because I had a feeling you were going to dick around if I didn't wait."

I look up, and he's millimeters away. "You aren't wrong." He pulls his face away and starts to pull away from the curb. "Irritating you is the goal here."

"And, you know, talking about your Global issues."

He cuts his eyes at me. "Was that a statement and a pun together."

"Mhmm."

He sighs and groans as I laugh at my own brilliance. After that, the next few minutes return to that awkward, pressured silence from earlier.

"So, uh, why did you want to tell me about your personal problems with Global?"

He let's out a deep breath. "Because you're very intelligent and I figured you could help me to not get kicked out. Reform me. You and Alec."

We pull up to my house, the sun setting behind it, lighting the sky on fire.

"Later, Frank." I go to open my door and get out, but Frank grabs my wrist and twists it, the pain forcing me to turn and look at him.

His blazing blue eyes bore into mine once more as he silently forces paper into my hand and tops it with a white to-go box. "Goodnight, Cooper." He mutters, letting go of my reddened wrist.

"Goodnight, Grevecci." I whisper as I step out of his car, closing the door.

He backs out, and as I head back into my empty house, I look over the hedges as he pulls into his driveway next door. He rests his head on his steering wheel.

Unlock the door. Open. Step inside. Close and relock.

I set the to-go down and look at the paper in my hand. It's not just any paper.

It's nine dollars.