W E L C O M E B A C K C U P C A K EI STILL REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME I WALKED INTO POP'S. Today felt almost similar, in a strange, nostalgic way. Kids sat familiarly around the tables, gossiping and laughing. The air was filled with a sweet smell that I had longed for ever since I left. I slid my bank card out from its neatly tucked spot under my phone case and approached a pretty girl who appeared to work here standing behind the white coloured counter.
"How can I help you today?" The girl said in unsubtly fake enthusiastic manner. She couldn't have been any older than me.
"Can I get a plain cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake please"
"Plain?" She was for some reason confused by this remark. Had no one ever asked for a plain cheeseburger before?
"Yes. As in no lettuce or sauce, or tomatoes etc, just the bun, a burger and some cheese"
"Weird" she said, a slight smirk playing at her lips, as she walked towards the man she remembered as Pop Tate. The pair exchanged words and then my new bestie came back with the card machine in hand. I payed and was then escorted to an empty booth on the far right end, beside the counter.
"Fallon" the girl said casually as she cleared up a coffee cup with dark red lipstick stains left by the previous customer, "Fallon is my name" The girl seemed to think she had to clarify, incase I had just thought she liked to announce the second names of popular tv show hosts as a hobby.
"Alissa is my name, nice to meet you Fallon" I said as I fiddled with the salt shaker. Making friends was definitely not my forte, pissing people off with my slightly irritating personality was more my skill set.
"Sorry for shaming you're burger choices" Fallon didn't appear to seem very interested in this conversation. I felt as if I was at one of those family parties where a distant cousin you don't know is forced to come up to speak to you cause their parents assume that, since we're of similar ages we'll be automatic best friends.
"It's cool, it's a lot worse at Subway. Employees treat me like I belong at a nut house when I tell them I don't want any toppings. I don't like overwhelming flavours. What's wrong with that?" I could tell the young girl obviously had no interest in my rambles as she looked out into the car park at something I couldn't be bothered turning round to see.
Fallon eventually went away and I was finally able to open the book I was more than excited to reread. Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita was in my opinion a literary masterpiece. Uncomfortable? Yes. Morally wrong? Yes. Did I care? No. I loved to read about what was considered taboo. My life closely resembled that of a nuns, and so I lived vicariously through these words written by men and women much wiser and more imaginative than me.
Lolita was my favourite for many reasons and on this Saturday afternoon I sat peacefully in my booth as I awaited my food, preparing myself to rehash the details of Humbert Humbert and Dolores Haze's turbulent relationship.
I saw him as he walked through the doors in a loose leather jacket and a grimace painted over his face. The outline of his stubble and the way his arms moved as he walked caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I felt it, I felt something I'd only ever read about, something that I never thought I would. Lust. I gripped tighter to the pages of my book as my heart beat grew only faster. I didn't even bother to try to compose myself, this foreign feeling felt so warm and I didn't want it to go. I didn't want him to go.
He pulled his arms out his jacket aggressively and threw it behind the counter. Did he work here? If he didn't, the man had incredibly bad manners.
"Welcome back cupcake" Fallon smirked at the man as he rolled his eyes and pushed his way past her, "We were gonna make you a card but then we realised we couldn't be bothered"
"I've been gone a week with a twisted ankle, I didn't fücking beat cancer" the man grunted and ran a hand through his dark hair.
"I probably would have got you a card if you'd beat cancer" Fallon laughed at the mans obvious wish to be anywhere but here. Fallon grabbed her jacket from a stand, waved at the man and strode our the diner, winking at me as she left.
I looked back to the mysterious man, who to my surprise was already looking at me. As our eyes locked, he quickly turned around in a flustered manner and walked quickly away from the area in which I was residing. I was surprised at the mans behaviour. He had been seemingly confident up until that moment and it only made me want to know him more. I could feel that my face had gone a shade of red from the interaction and I buried it into my book hoping he wouldn't see.
I'd come to the end of my cheeseburger when the man began to approach my table. I didn't dare look up at him.
"Lolita? Interesting choice" he said light heartedly as he picked up the empty plate. I turned my attention up to his dark eyes. They were soft, in contrast with the rest of him, a knowing smirk spread across his face. I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear and smiled nervously at the older man. "You want anything else sweetheart?" His hand grazed his thigh as I saw him look down at mine. I suddenly became aware of how short my white summer dress cut off. My skin burned from his gaze.
"No, I should be going" was pretty much all I could get myself to say. It was true, my parents would be concerned if I was to stay out too long. I locked eyes with the mysterious man again, a soft smile spreading across my face which he mirrored almost instantly. I slid my cardigan on and picked up my phone before exiting the booth, him staring at my every move as he held onto my plate.
"Thanks" I muttered cowardly while walking past him, not being able to bring myself to look at him now. He said nothing back, so I kept walking. Right out the door and to my small green car at the end of the car park, my heart beating faster than it ever had before.
Who was he?
And why did he make me feel this way?
AN | welcome to my fp story. i've been wanting to write one for him for a while now and hope you're liking it so far. this might be going a bit slower than the usual fp things on here, so I hope that's okay. make sure to vote if you like it, or even if you don't like it cause I mean - why not?
thanks ❤️
YOU ARE READING
eighteen • fp jones
Fanficin which Vladimir Nabokov's novel is left behind in a diner by a pretty girl with an affinity for strawberry milkshakes and older men [age gap]