Pancakes at The Diner (on pause)

12: In Which Gregory Confesses

         

Gregory has kept a low profile since he walked out of The Diner a few weeks prior. And by low profile, Gregory means that he just aggressively avoided anything diner-related. That included coordinating his routes around the street The Diner was located on. Gregory was well aware that he was being extreme, but he couldn't stop. Finally, he missed his jacket too much to keep avoiding it.

    He knows the likelihood of him seeing Andrea is slim. Actually, now that he thinks about it, she practically lives at The Diner. But he also knows she goes to Chatham, and that she needs to be back in the Chatham dorms by a certain point. He's betting that the later he arrives, the less likely she is to be there. He hates the fact that he needs to know these things.

    Coming back to The Diner is almost like coming home, which is a strange thing for him to think. It's not like Gregory doesn't have a home. He does. It's a nice, two story house with a nice, albeit subdued, remainder of his family. A house with a dad who drinks too much and a sister who's never around and a boy who never eats. But they don't talk about that.

    As though on cue, his stomach growls. He'd forgotten how good The Diner always smelled, like pancakes and fried dough and freshly made coffee. He likes coffee. It's good for keeping his energy up. He might order a cup, if Andrea's not around. It's good to be back at his regular table. Gregory likes routines. It had been painful breaking this one.

    "Hi," he hears a voice say, and looks up. It's Monique, the girl who had been there when he tried to help close up. She's older than him by at least a few years. He wonders if he can still call her a girl. She looks like one, with a round, open face and thick curls and a nice smile. She looks warm and inviting. She probably hand't missed a meal in years.

    "Hi," he said back.

    "Listen," Monique began nervously, twisting her hands, "I just wanted to say..."

    "Do you want to sit down?" Gregory offers, because he's not a heartless person. Or at least, he tries his best not to be.

    Monique nods. "Yes, thank you. Um," she pauses again, like she's not really sure what else to say. "Look, I'm sorry for the other night. A couple weeks ago when we were closing up, and I must have said something offensive, and you went running, and I'm sorry. Whatever it was, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

    It takes a few minutes for Gregory to remember exactly what she was talking about. He'd been so focused on the possibility of seeing Andrea that he hadn't even entertained the idea that Monique might be there, Monique who'd taken woodshop, Monique who—

    "Are you okay?"

    Gregory snaps back to attention and forces a smile on his face, curling his fingers into a fist. It takes all his effort not to sprint for an exit. "Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. It's fine."

    "You don't look fine," Monique says quietly. "If its something bad, I can help. We can talk to the school administration, or figure out a good next step."

    "The school administration?" Gregory asks incredulously.

    "If you're having problems with Midland High or a teacher or something, you should tell them!" Monique says quickly. "You can see the guidance counselor too."

    Gregory declines to tell her he's seen every school guidance counselor Midland High had to offer, plus a family therapist, plus the grief counselors the hospital set him up with, and none of it helped at all. It was just talk, and talk wouldn't bring his mom back. Talk wouldn't give him back control. The only thing that did that was skipping meals, counting calories right up to the last decimal. "I'm not having problems with a teacher," he manages to say.

    Then Monique does something unexpected. She takes his hand, which was sitting clenched in a fist on the table, and holds it. "It's alright," she says softly. "Whatever it is, it's alright."

    Gregory yanks his hand back. "It's not," he says harshly. "It never is."

    Monique raises an eyebrow but says nothing, and places her hands back in her lap. Neither of them made a move to say anything more.

    "Hey!" Milo says, bursting out of the kitchen. "Kid! I got your jacket!"

    "Thanks," Gregory said, hating how his voice sounded on the verge of tears. "I'll be going now."

    "You're not gonna order anything?" Milo asks.

    "No," Gregory says. "I should get going."

    "At least have coffee with me," Monique says, causing Milo to smile. "Or some muffins, anything." Milo's still smiling at her, and Gregory remembers the life he made up for them. Jeremy and Sarah. They seem halfway there already. He shifts his weight and his stomach growls again. Coffee would be nice.

    "Okay," he says, hating himself for giving in.

    "Two coffees and two muffins," Milo says, heading back to the kitchen. "Got it."

    Gregory turns back to Monique. "Why do you want me to stay?" he asks.

    "If you're not going to tell me the reason you ran out, I at least want to be here for you," she says.

    "Why?" he asks again. "I'm nobody. I'm some kid you met at some small diner in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Okay, yeah, we went to the same high school. So what? What do I matter to you? To anybody?" He's almost shouting now. Monique doesn't look bothered in the slightest.

    "I think things happen for a reason," she says. "And I think this isn't a coincidence. I was scared about you coming back. I didn't want to talk about why you left. But I think we need to."

    "You want to know why?" Gregory asks, deadly quiet. "Then ask me. Ask me again about high school. Ask me how things have changed."

    "How have they changed, Gregory?" Monique asks, and Gregory hates the sound of her voice, how pitying it is, like she already knows the answer.

    "Mrs. Carter's dead," he says bluntly, because he's said it so many times it's lost meaning. It's the answer to everything. Why he started therapy, why he skips meals, why he feels like his life has spiraled out of control to the point where he can't even see straight anymore. "She was my mother and she's dead and there's nothing I can do about it, is there?"

    Monique breathes in sharply. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

    "Yeah. Well. Now you do," Gregory says. "And sorry doesn't change anything." He stands up. "This was a bad idea. I'm going to go now."

    "What about your muffin?" Monique asks as he makes his way towards the door.

    "I don't need it," Gregory says. He hasn't eaten since early that morning, five almonds and half a peach. "Give it to someone who's hungry."

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ok i should probably clarify that these instagram things i'm posting aren't real. i made them on photoshop. they're edited. these accounts don't exist.

this chapter is dedicated (i remembered i'm doing dedications!! that's a thing!! comment nice/interesting/funny stuff for dedications!!) to metronomy because she left a v nice, v supportive comment on the last chapter (plus, gregory's instagram)

and in case you were curious about any of the pictures on any character's instagram, ask me about it! every picture has a reason for being there so if you have any questions please feel free to let me know. i'm always interested in hearing from you all.

in other news, i have a couple other books i'd appreciate if you guys checked out! one summer is v cute and v gay and much happier than this book, and kiddo was an impulsive publication of my mediocre poetry which i might possibly take down soon once i realize that i actually cannot write decent poetry. but if you guys would take a look at either of them i'd really appreciate it!

also... 9k reads and 100 followers???? what did i ever do to deserve that??? thank you guys so much for sticking with me and my ridiculousness and for supporting this story and identifying with the characters. pretty soon it will be a year that i've been on wattpad and i'm so happy to have made it this far. i love you all.