Everywhere, Everything. ★ STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

CHAPTER SIX

Nick and Chris were next in line to order. Dark wet patches covered their sweatshirts as soaked strands clung to Nick's forehead. He looked miserable.

    "I am hungry and I am wet," he grumbled.

    I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. His eyes narrowed.

    "It's only water," Chris mocked, shaking out his hair, sending droplets onto Nick's irritated face. I'd never seen the look someone had right before they murdered somebody, but I was willing to bet it wasn't too far off from the one plastered across Nick's face.

He raised his hand in a fist.

"We're in public!" Matt warned, his eyebrows shooting up.

Chris wagged his finger at Nick, antagonizing him.

"You are so lucky I hate causing a scene, Christopher." He flinched at Chris before turning back to face the order counter.

Chris winked at me.

A middle-aged man with clipped sandy hair beckoned us forward. His once white apron, yellowed from mustard stains, bore a name tag that read 'Terry.'

"What can I get for you?" he asked politely, his folksy, Northwestern accent peeking through.

The older locals seemed to talk with a thickness in their voice like certain words got caught in the back of their throat. It still made my brain tickle every time I heard the slight click.

Chris didn't wait for anyone else. "Can I please have a BLT on white, light mayo."

Terry scribbled away on his order pad, reciting Chris's words back to him. "BLT on white, light mayo." The 'i' in light came out more as an 'oy,' sounding like 'loyt.'

I smiled.

Nick and Matt ordered next, leaving me to decide what I wanted. I pretended to look over the laminated menu sitting on the counter top. I was a creature of habit, and also a picky eater, but no one needed to know that.

"Could I please have a turkey sandwich on sourdough with lettuce and provolone?"

"That's it?" Chris gaped.

I clicked my tongue at him. "Stop talking."

Nick and Matt let out a snort. Chris's mouth hung open in mock offense, a playful glint in his eyes. I teasingly batted my lashes.

Terry finished ringing up our order. "That'll be $43.27."

Matt reached for his wallet. "I like how you just assume we're paying," he teased, looking back at me.

"One of us works in a bookstore and one of us makes the average American's salary by posting one video. So, yes, you're paying for my $10 sandwich." I propped my hand on my hip.

"I knew she was only hanging out with us for our money," Nick joked, and I whipped my head towards him, eyes wide. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "That's for your comment earlier."

He winked dramatically before stepping away from the order counter. I deserved that one.

The four of us found a free table by one of the windows facing the street. Finally, the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Bright rays shone across the wet sidewalks and sides of buildings, their windows shimmering.

Families of all different kinds trailed in and out of Barney's, down the streets, and into open shops. A young British couple chatted over their meals behind us. The woman was talking about how cozy Woodbury was and how she didn't ever want to leave. Her sweet, English accent sounded dreamy.