KISS: Casablanca High School

Ch 41: Dinnertime (Eric C)

"Mom, I'm home!" I called, setting down my bag and stretching, trying to pop my shoulder. No answer and no luck.

With a frown and a sigh, I moved into the kitchen, looking at the note that was stuck to the fridge.

Paul--

You dad and I are out to dinner, we'll be back at 10 or 11. There's leftovers in the fridge but you're welcome to go out, just give me the receipt and I'll reimburse you. Love you!

--Mom

"Alright, sweet. I got the place to myself," I mumbled. "Too bad all my friends hate each other and I don't have anyone to share it with."

I pulled open the fridge and stared blankly at the food, looking for something that seemed good. I was like five pounds under my weight limit I was fine I could eat anything. Not so fine were the leftovers, so I decided to just start walking and see what I found.

I made it about a block before I decided that it was too cold and the next restaurant I saw was going to be dinner no matter what. Huey's Burgers ended up being that and I walked in with a shiver, shaking the snow out of my hair. The hostess led me to my seat after the typical "Oh, table for 1?" comment, and handed me a menu which was like ten things if that. I sat down in the booth and scanned the menu, stomach growling. Alright waiter, hurry up and come here and take my order I'm starving.

"Hi, welcome to Huey's Burgers, I'm your server tonight, my name's Bruce, what can I get you to drin--oh my gosh, you've got to be kidding me. Eric?!"

I looked up from the menu at the sound of the familiar voice and stared at Bruce in horror, immediately feeling the familiar wave of anxiousness washing over me. "Oh! Oh--uh, Bruce! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I'll go!" I stammered, rising to my feet without knowing what I was doing. He laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder and gently shoving me back into the booth. "You'll go? Geez, Eric, sit down and relax, you're not intruding, it's my job! Like, it's literally my job, I work here. So what can I get you to drink?" "Uhh...uh, just a w--um, what kind of sodas do you have?" He frowned, scratching his temple with the end of his pencil. "Let's see, we've got Sprite, Pepsi, Coke, root beer, that kind of stuff."

My face grew red and I looked at the beverage list on the menu. "Do you have...um...grape soda?" I asked softly, knowing damn well they had it because I was staring right at it. He smiled and scribbled something down on the notepad before looking at me again. "You know what you want to eat or do you need more time?" "Uh, more time, please," I mumbled. He nodded and walked off.

I wanted to scream and resisted the urge to slam my head on the table. No, no, no, this was a disaster! He was going to judge me on everything I ate, I couldn't deal with this, I should just leave now before he comes back with my--

"Here's your drink! You decided on your order yet?" My stomach flipped and I ran a hand through my hair, staring at the list of like five burgers in blank panic. "What do you...uhhhhh what do you recommend?" "Geez Eric, it's a burger place, not fine dining. But if you really want to know, I find that the cheeseburger pairs best with the grape soda." "I'll take that then, I guess. Cooked medium." Bruce laughed, jotting down my order. "Its gonna be medium whether you want it or not. All the toppings?" "Except tomatoes, yeah. Thank you."

He nodded and walked off, leaving me wishing the booth would swallow me up. Come on Eric, come on. You're better than this, Bruce is cool, Bruce is cool with you, you guys are cool, nothing's wrong. You're friends, thanks to wrestling you're friends, he gave you several rides its all cool, is it cool? Are you guys cool? Aw dammit forget it Eric just leave, right now, go, get out.