𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 | machine gun kelly

19

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?" TRIPPIE blanched as he recoiled from the bite of his hamburger he had just taken. 

He had joined me and Sam in the next booth, leaving Colson and his friends to their own devices. 

"A hamburger?" I offered politely, catching Bob's glare that he directed to our table from the counter. 

"That fucker's trying to kill me, I swear," Trippie pushed his plate away, his burger falling apart on the tray. 

"What's wrong with it?" I asked incredulously.

He shot his dark eyes at me. 

"What's wrong is that Bob over there should be out smoking a joint at his shack or whatever instead of cooking," Trippie let out, giving the middle aged man a finger while the man was looking. 

"And you said this place was good," Trippie shot at Sam, who shrank lower in his seat with lack of anything to say. 

"Michael," I pressed, alarmed. "Don't be like that."

"Can't even have a decent hamburger man," He continued under his breath completely ignoring me.  

"Do you want me to make it for you?" I offered, anything to shut up his rude remarks. We were all alone in Bob's diner. It wouldn't do at all to make Bob mad. Who knows where the basement of this place is and what the man keeps there. I had watched enough scary movies to mess with the natural order of things like this. 

"Would you?" Trippie asked, relaxing a little. 

I got up with a sigh, before pinning a smile to my face. "Let me ask Bob if he will lend me his kitchen after you just insulted his food and gave him the middle finger." 

Pivoting on my heels, I made my way to the counter where Bob stood rubbing the counter top with a dirty cloth. 

"Hi, um," I started, not quite sure how he would take the request, "Can I please make a hamburger in your kitchen? I will be quick." 

"What's wrong w' the one I made?" The man inquired, a stick back between his lips as he looked at me accusingly. 

"It's just—" I broke off. Actually I didn't have a clue what was wrong with the one he had made. Trippie hadn't been very descriptive. "There's nothing wrong with it per say, it's just that my boyfriend is allergic to.. cabbage." 

"Funny," The man scoffed, before gesturing to he door to his kitchen. "The stuff's all there." 

I offered him a grateful smile before making my inside the kitchen and spotting the station he had just used. Quickly I started toasting the burger buns and chopping out tomatoes. 

Suddenly, I felt a hand grip my elbow. I spun immediately with the knife in my hand raised, fearing Bob had finally gone off his rocker.

It was Colson. I let out a gasp, startled at his presence. He raised his hands in surrender, his features contorted into amusement. 

"Relax, princess," He let out. 

"How did you—" I broke off still startled. He hadn't entered behind me, the door I had used was right next to me for God's sake. 

With a smirk, he gestured to the door at my far left. I hadn't noticed the back entrance. It was now ajar and opened to the sandy plains outside. 

"Went to the outhouse only to come back and spot you chopping tomatoes in the kitchen," He mused, intrigued, "Called your name like five times from the door. You always leave me no choice but to grab you for your attention."