Day Dream Screamer | Hiatus

Chapter 2

❃𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2❃

"𝐿𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃"

- 𝐵𝑒𝓃𝒿𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓃 𝐹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃

❃ ゜゜・。。・⊰❀⊱・ 。。・゜゜❃

In a small diner, just to the side of a very busy intersection, Rebecca Harley and Cindy Armstrong sat with menus between their hands. It was a small place, built so that tourists could enjoy the feel of sitting in a retro 1950s diner. Everything was lined in tin-like metal: the edges of the tables, the edges of the seats, the outside of the walls, the edge of the counter, and so on. Bar stools littered with lone travellers sat opposite the many bottles of alcohol on display, as well as the milkshake station. A blonde-haired woman, hair in a beehive and sporting a swing dress, mulled about making drinks and ringing through orders. She was clearly very busy but, at the same time, completely bored with her job.

When Becca and Cindy had arrived, a man had asked for extra ketchup, and she'd given him the most judgmental raised brow before pointing to the condiments and cutlery table that had quite a garish sign above it labelling it as just that.

After fifteen or so minutes of waiting, a bubbly teenager came up to their table, also wearing a swing dress paired with a faux pearl necklace. "What can I do you for?" They asked in a put-on way that made it very clear they were instructed to say so.

"We'll just have the full sharing, thanks." Cindy looked to Becca for confirmation as a last check-in.

"Yeah, I would've loved the ribs, but my bank account would've been screaming in agony afterwards."

With one last toothy grin, the waiter departed to hand over their scrawled-on bit of paper to the woman at the counter.

"University life is so humbling." Cindy sighed.

Becca laughed lightly. "I know. It wasn't until I got here that I realised what a horrible budgeter I am."

Cindy procured a smug grin, raising her head up in a proud manner and puffing out her chest theatrically. "It's a good thing that I straightened you out then."

"You did not "straighten me out"." Becca scoffed.

"I did too."

"You did not."

"I did too."

"One lecture does not count since it was actually the workshops on budgeting that the college gave for us that actually made a difference. Just because they happened in the same week does not earn you brownie points."

"I did too." Cindy stuck out her tongue.

A silence ensued. Or at least one between them, the rest of the diner continued on with its mello mid-morning chatter. Cutlery scraping against plates, the clack of heels on the floor, and the plethora of sounds emanating from the kitchen. But a silence enveloped them nonetheless. It had the air of comfortable awkwardness. They had nothing to say and no reason to keep quiet.

Becca focused on the murmuring music in the background, a classic 50s-sounding song playing. She hummed along, though she didn't actually know the tune, but it was repetitive enough that she got the gist of it fairly quickly.

Cindy tried and failed not to pick at her nails. She'd scrape off imaginary dirt. Then flex her hands to examine for faults in the nail polish. Then go back to scraping imaginary dirt.