I Just Wanted to be Edgy Too

Chapter Nineteen

Van

Ellie wasn't a big eater. I never really saw her eat anything, usually just opting for a drink with breakfast, and apparently that was the same when she was on one. Not the typical pattern for a person.

"You've gotta eat real food."

She frowned at the menu. "Just toast then."

"I don't want you to be miserable later."

The waitress looked annoyed as she waited for Ellie to make a decision. "Can I just have wheat toast, fruit salad and a coffee, black?" The waitress nodded and then looked at me.

"Cuppa tea. Make it a buil-uhm, just leave the bag in...cream and sugar please. And an extra bag in case." I smiled catching myself before I went full English. "Also oatmeal with brown sugar on the side." The waitress didn't say anything as she walked away, she wasn't amused by either of us. She probably saw our kind a lot, the street was full of bars that never closed, people that never wanted to sleep.

Ellie rubbed her lips together and leaned into the booth of the breakfast place we found. It reminded me of a caff back home, the smell of bacon frying in the back and the pop and sizzle of eggs getting flipped. I thought instantly of my parents and their morning breakfasts they served when I was a kid and they still ran the bed and breakfast in Llandudno. Grief struck me hard at the realization that I hadn't spoken to either of them in weeks, beyond a text message here and there. Shame on me.

"You like oatmeal?" Her words broke my thoughts.

"Yes." I raised my eyebrows in question.

"What's cuppa mean?"

"It's like saying you want a cup of something. Just shortened."

"Oh." Ellie traced her fingers against the lacquered wooden table top, pausing only to accept her coffee. I felt her eyes on me as I stirred my tea, sampling it before opening another bag of tea and plopping it into the water.

"You're picky."

"About my tea, yes. Yous Americans do tea wrong, it's a good thing you've got me here to show you how to proper drink it." I passed her my cup and smiled at her hesitation.

She picked it up with both hands, cradling it clumsily and sniffed it before taking a small sip.

"It's sweet."

"It's how I like it. Blakes...Blakes likes more cream than sugar, and Bondy usually just chugs it black."

She took another sip before passing it back to me. I took a long drink, letting the tea solidify the homesickness I felt a few moments before.

"Do you like it in America?" Ellie's words knocked the wind out of me. It was like she really could see through me, like I was a ghost on the stage again.

"S'pose it's alright, not for any length time, but it'll do for a while."

She frowned. "When do you go back?"

"After the holidays."

"So just a few more months then." Her voice trailed off before picking back up in a higher octave. "Wait you said after, does that mean you won't be home for Christmas?"

I shook my head.

"Van....that's a bit heartbreaking. Don't you want to see your family? Where will you go?"

"My family knew this road would mean I'd miss out on everything. They couldn't be more proud despite it. And I'll probably spend it with me mates...the lids, like every holiday we spend together." I smiled at the memory of Christmas years ago, on our first American run. Larry dressed as Santa, the memory seemed too far away now, blurry even.