♡Run Boy Run♡

4 Dine & Dash

I flicked Tristan's lighter off and on as I sat in the back of Alison's car, staring mesmerized by the flame. "Do you think they'd make me an enchilada if I asked for one at Wendy's? I really want one." I slouched back against the seat, tears almost welling in my eyes of how bad I wanted an enchilada. All my emotions are just so intense right now.

"What's wrong with her?" Alison turns to Tristan as she sniffles from the front passenger seat.

"She's high." He answered in a monotone, as he kept his eyes on the road.

"You let her smoke pot?!" Alison erupted in his face, before sighing in disappointment as she balanced her head against the window.

"Oh shut up! I wasn't the one who was off sucking some jerks face when I should've been watching over my friend!" He spat, his jaw clenched, as his tight grasp around the steering wheel turned his knuckles white.

"I still can't believe you went back to him." He mumbled, shaking his head in frustration. "And after everything. I mean, look what he fucking did to you." He glanced at her in disbelief, before looking back to the road.

An awkward silence filled the air for a couple seconds. Until Alison's hands met her face as she let out a huge sob which seemed as though she'd been holding it in for a while.

Tristan's hand met her back, as he comfortingly rubbed it as she silently cried. I felt really bad for her, well I mean I don't really know what happened, but seeing her sad makes me sad regardless.

Tristan's hand traveled back to the steering wheel, we made eye contact through the rear view mirror for a short second before I realized we came to a stop.

"Are you coming in with us?" He spoke, turning to Alison. We were in a random diner parking lot, that I didn't bother learning the name of.

She sniffled, shaking her head feverishly.

His eyes hovered on hers, until he nodded in understanding. "We'll be back." He opened the door, then turned towards me. "You coming? Ms. One hit." He smirked playfully, before exiting the car.

I scoffed in annoyance, opening my door, and exiting the car as well.

I walk slightly faster, purposely bumping into him, then continue to walk beside him. "Sorry I don't have the tolerance of an eighty year old." Surprisingly I think I'm starting to sober up.

-

Tristan and I sit at one of the diner booths as I pretty much inhale my burger and fries.

"Sorry they couldn't make you an enchilada." He tried to keep in a laugh as he watched me eat.

"That's the least of my concerns right now. This is the best burger I've ever had." I moan in bliss as I take my last bite.

He laughed, looking down at the table, then back to me. "You done?" He feels around in his pockets, looking for something.

Then what seems like a wash of panic, goes through his face. His hands violently search through his pockets once again. "Shit!" He curses in a slight whisper.

"What?" I look at him in confusion, his attitude is scaring me, what could possibly be wrong?

"I didn't bring my wallet. You don't possibly?..."