stoical - l.h.

five

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The diner is a normal, casual diner, filled with an array of different people. I'd say it might be slightly '50s themed, but the decor sort of mixed around. There are red booths, black and white tiled floors, juke boxes, even some video games from '80s arcades for kids to play. Neon lights seem to light the place from top to bottom. When Calum and I walk in, the pink neon lights on the bar directly in front of us is the first thing I notice. The bar doesn't appear to have any alcohol, but bar stools and what looks like stations to serve soft drinks and milkshakes. It's a nice, just a little confused, it seems.

Chatter from the people all around fills my ears, as well as the clanging of dishes and cups being cleaned up and delivered to hungry customers. I think I might hear a baby whining somewhere, and I definitely am smelling something fried, like mozzarella sticks. I can't tell if the feeling in my stomach is hunger or nausea, but I definitely feel something when the scent hits me.

I realize that there are several sections to the diner, and in one there seems to be more elderly people and quiet couples, whereas in others there are a lot more children, teenagers, louder families. Of course, Calum starts heading towards the louder side, to my ultimate dismay. The louder side not only has more people, but the music is also louder and more overwhelming. I assume that's why people tend to request to be on the quieter side, since it could get overwhelming.

Calum and I walk straight past the front desk of the diner, and Calum must have given a look or signal to the hostess since she just nods at him with a smile, letting him pass by without a problem. I follow behind Calum and try not to look too dreadful in my face. I'm sure it isn't helpful, just thinking I should look more upbeat, but at least I'm trying.

We walk near the back of the place, where there's mostly only blue and pink neon lights instead of normal ones. The table we arrive at is circular and has one of those huge, circular booths that several people can fit around. There are four people at the table, making six with the addition of Calum and I. The four of them already sitting are talking, laughing like a normal group of friends. My throat tightens, and the nerves overwhelm me as I realize this is happening right now. I have to communicate now, and none of these people are going to understand me, just like everybody else. I have to be prepared for that, but I'm not, I'm not—

"Calum! Finally, dude!" one of the boys says, the first to notice Calum's arrival. Not mine, clearly, but I am so grateful at the moment. I move so that I'm as far behind Calum as I can be. I'm pretty short, so I'm able to hide beneath his height.

"Hey, Michael," Calum says, and a genuine smile is on his face. I think it's the first real smile I've seen on him, and something twists in my gut, but I ignore it and look away. "Sorry I'm late."

Of course, I made him late, so the statement makes me feel awful for no valid reason. Whether it was my weird attack in the car or the fact that I came downstairs a minute too late, I'm the one who made Calum late to meet his friends. I sigh gently, hating myself internally.

"No worries," the other boy at the table says. Since the first boy is somewhat hidden by Calum standing in front of me, I can't see him much. But the one that's just spoken is cute, if I do say so myself. I'm embarrassed at the thought, but I can't help thinking it.

He's wearing a faded reddish shirt that looks soft and looks good against his skin tone, which is slightly tanned, but not in the same way as Calum's. His hair is a mess of golden brown waves that seems to be a little too long, but still looks really good. In the two words he's already spoken, I hear that he has a very lighthearted voice, already, like he genuinely means it when he says no worries.