We arrive at the diner with the sun setting behind us and the clouds still hanging about in the sky. "Gee, I wonder if they remember us." Joe says staring up at the big LED sign on the roof that reads: 'McLain and Son Diner'. I shake my head. "Doubt it, man." He glances at me. "Only one way to find out then, come on." He grabs my hand and drags me into the diner behind him. Nothing has changed inside. Just your average fifties style diner with the checkered floors, cute booths along the large window, plenty of space for dancing along the aisles of tables and chairs, a jukebox in the corner and bar-style seating across the counter. "It still looks exactly the same." I say. "Hey, hey, look! They still have our seats!" I point to the only corner booth in the diner. "We gotta sit there, man!" "Wait, I need to see if they still have that song we always used to play on that jukebox." He says, counting up his money in his palm. "Jesus, if I only I could remember what it was..." I think along with him, before suddenly remembering, clicking my fingers. "It was Oh Boy by that dude uh... Buddy Holly, wasn't it?" Joe's eyes widen in realisation. "Oh yeah! Thanks, Indie. I never would've remembered that. Thank god I have you back, man." He grins down at me. My heart melts at that comment but I brush it off as cooly as I can. "Uh... you're welcome then." I nervously laugh before quickly attempting to change the subject. "Ok, I'm starving. You want anything?" It's been so awkward between us for the past day that we've been friends that it's such a shock that Joe would suddenly just say that. He nods, breaking me away from the maze of thoughts running through my mind. "I'll just get a milkshake-" He pulls out a five dollar bill from his pocket. "And here's some money to pay for it." I smile and skip off towards the counter. As soon as the cashier turns around I immediately recognise him, Its Shakespeare: one of the people who's worked here since the first time Joe and I came. His name isn't actually Shakespeare, it's just his hair sticks out at the sides of his cap and he has that same weird beard thing going on as William Shakespeare himself. He sees my face and laughs once he recognises me. "Oh, Lord, I remember you... Indigo, isn't it?" I throw him finger-guns. "You guessed it." "How long's it been, huh? Like maybe two years?" He shakes his head. "Where's your friend who always came here with you? Joe?" I point to the corner of the store. "Jukebox. I've missed this place so much, you have no idea." "Well, tell him hi from me and let's get this order underway, yeah? Bring back some of those memories." I eventually pick out two vanilla milkshakes, a banana split, and some churros and then wander back to my table. "Did you see him?" I ask. "Who?" Joe asks, knocking over the salt accidentally before positioning it on top of the pepper very precisely. "Shakespeare." I exclaim. "He remembered me! And you as well." He doesn't seem to share my excitement and more looks confused. "I... Have no idea who you're talking about, Indie." I take that he's kidding. "Oh come on, you know? That dude with weird hair that sticks out and that weird beard?" He just looks even more confused. "Nah, sorry I don't..." My face falls. I mean, I knew he probably wouldn't remember from that long ago but part of me was hoping. "Oh... That's ok. Um, anyway, what do you wanna talk about?" Joe shrugs. "Don't know. Anything, really." I tilt my head to the side and look at him. "I have a question, Joe." He laughs. "When do you not, Indie?" "I wanna know why you quit drama club and left me there all by myself." I say. "I don't really know... I think I sort of grew out of it. It wasn't for me anymore, I guess." He says. "You know what they had to do when you left? Mr Dunnstock had to find someone else to play Romeo in the scene that we were doing together. I have to go with Gwilym now because of you." I say, leaning my head against the window. "What's so wrong with that?" He asks, confused. "Gwilym's a nice guy." "Nice guy my ass." I mutter. "Well, so what? Hey, you know, what if I join back in? They'll surely give me my spot back won't they?" Joe says. I shake my head. "Doubt it. The performance is next week." He sighs and shakes his head too. "Still your difficult self." "Uh, excuse me? I am not difficult." I say, offended. Joe laughs. "I'm kidding!" I'm about to say something else when all the food comes. Three whole trays full. Some random waitress who Joe somehow knows places them all down on the table. I laugh as he digs into all the food. I remember the last time we were here: he ate all the food and then felt really guilty so he bought me a massive tub of off-brand chocolate ice cream. Although it probably sounds bad, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. "It's ok, Indie. I'm not gonna eat all the food again. I know how much you hate off-brand ice cream." He smiles. I gasp. "Oh, you know me too well, Joe! I was just thinking about that." I reach over and grab a churro. For the next few hours, we talk about anything and everything. From bands and acting to cereals and our favourite cities. At the end, I say that I can just walk myself home, but Joe insists that he has too since it's 'the American way'. "Um, so this is my house." I say. "Hasn't changed much." "Guess you're right." He says, looking around. "You want me to walk you to the front door or..." I shake my head. "Nah, it's fine. But thank you anyway. Thanks for today." "No problem, bye, Indie!" He says. I wave him off as he walks down the street and into the illumination of the street lamps. God, life sometimes can be just like an eighties movie.
It's getting more cliche as it goes on, isn't it? ☁︎eva☁︎
