Started With a Lie

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lee intertwines our hands at the same time I open the front door to Sally’s, the diner next door. I try hard to act nonchalant and not see that we’re holding hands in public for the first time since ever. The bells on top of the door jingle as we enter.

        The musty smell hits you right away.

        Despite the scent, the diner has somewhat of a warm atmosphere. The sun is pouring through the windows, making everything look twice as bright. There are only a couple of men with beards at a booth and they’re all reading newspapers or talking. The only other person is a man sitting at the counter stools. I can’t tell what he looks like because his back is faced away.

        “Welcome, young folks!” A short lady with wild red hair with some gray comes up to us. She’s in a yellow dress with an apron over it. Her smile is infectious.

        “Hello,” Lee says, smiling. I can tell the lady doesn’t recognize him because she doesn’t treat him any different than she would to any other customer. I guess that’s a benefit for going to a random diner in the middle of nowhere. “Sally, right?”

        “Yes, that’s me!” she chirps. Sally whips out a notepad and picks out the pen from her bun. “What can I do for ya’? A booth for two?”

        Lee nods. “That would be lovely.”

        “Thank you,” I add. Lee and his non-existent thank-you’s.

        Sally smiles and leads us to a window booth near the back. There’s a jukebox right next to it. This is probably the first time I’ve ever seen one in person since restaurants and diners don’t usually have these anymore. I’m beginning to wonder how old this place actually is.

        We sit down and Sally hands us breakfast menus though there’s only about five to ten choices, including beverages and all. I decide on the “English Breakfast” which is just normal sunny-side up eggs and toast with bacon. It’s simple and cheap.

        “I think I’ll get the pancake supreme,” Lee says to me.

        I look at the menu and my eyes widen. The pancake supreme is $29.99 because it has about twenty pancakes and a bunch of topping options.

        “No!” I say. “We have to save up our money. We already bought a bunch of stuff we shouldn’t have next door. There’s still an entire day left to spend money on.” I wiggle my toes in the knock-off vans we bought.

        “But this is the cheapest breakfast I’ve ever had,” he replies.

        “Too bad,” I say. “You’re going to get a English Breakfast with me.”

        “I refuse.”

        Sally comes back at that moment. “You sweet peas ready to order?”

        “Yes, please,” I answer. “I’ll be having the English Breakfast and some coffee, please. And uh, he’ll have the same.”

        “No, I won’t. I’m going to get the Pancake Supreme.”

        “He’s kidding,” I say, kicking him under the table. Lee groans and grabs his knee as I finalize our answer. “Two English Breakfasts, one coffee, one orange juice.”