To Have and To Hold

Chapitre Six

It was a little after midnight as we walked into the all-hours diner, me still in my hideous bridesmaid's dress and Jeremiah still in his suit. We probably looked crazy, out so late, and for some reason it made me flash back to my senior prom. Justin Hernandez took me out to some mom-and-pop diner beforehand and mixed vodka in his coffee. He was so smashed at the dance that he passed out during one of our slow dances. Like literally, head fell on my shoulder, and then his weight pulled us both down to the ground. It was horrible.

My experiences with guys were usually that. Horrible.

Jeremiah held the door open as we walked into the deserted diner, and I picked up my dress so it wouldn't get caught on the broken jamb in the floor. I had to change back into my mint heels, and my feet cried out in protest. Even with the added height on my end, Jeremiah was still taller. "After you," he said, gesturing the way.

I picked a booth in the furthest corner, away from the door, away from the bathrooms. Not that anyone was going to come in anyway; even the waitress seemed like she was about to fall asleep at the cash register.

Bunching my dress together, I slid into the plastic booth, hearing it squeak as I settled my weight. "Nice choice."

Jeremiah sat, too, setting his camera down on the tabletop. The lens was pointing at me, even though the device was switched off. "The coffee's really good here," he told me, pressing his palms against the table. His jacket strained against his arms. "A lot of late night photo editing has been done at this mystical place."

"Do they even have Wi-Fi?" I glanced around, taking in the green and white tile and the jukebox against one of the windows.

"Don't need it. I have the software on my computer, so as long as I have that and a power cord, I'm all set."

The lady who had been sleeping behind the cash register appeared at the front of the table, notepad in hand. Her eyes were red rimmed and thick lids drooping low, almost covering her irises entirely. Her dark hair was escaping her bun. "Would you like to order?"

"Just coffee," I said.

"Two coffees."

The lady nodded and hobbled off.

"The coffee is amazing," Jeremiah said in a small voice, keeping it hushed. "But the food is not."

I kicked off my heels from underneath the table, and I heard them clatter against the floor. I picked my feet up up, tucking them between my bottom and the sticky seat. I winced, but settled in. "You've tried it?"

"You smell that?" Jeremiah sniffed at the air, closing his eyes. I breathed in, too. "Inhale real deep. That. That is the smell of grease, pure grease, and that's what the food tastes like."

I set my head in my hand, feeling amused. "You got desperate once and regretted it ever since?"

He nodded. "Trust me, throwing up cheesy fries isn't as fun as it sounds."

"No, I'd say not."

The car ride over here—nearly twenty minutes—got the basics out of the way. Jeremiah was from a small town nearly a half hour from here, in a small rental house with his buddy, Alex. He's currently going to school at Western Community College for photography—duh—and hopes to start up his photography business by the fall. He has two dogs, one named Lila and the other Rusty, and a goldfish named Captain Morgan.

Whereas I live in a high-rise apartment with Jasmine and sometimes Annabeth, attending Hale University to get my basics out of the way, and then planned to major in veterinary medicine.