The following day, Ramsay waltzed into the diner, very hungry, and not in the best mood. His father had come home drunk at night again but had been gone by the morning, leaving him worried and angry. Just the other day, BT had promised him, again, to stop drinking. By now Ramsay knew the words were never genuine, but still, every time the older man promised something, a small piece of hope was planted in his heart. Which of course ripped it open the following day, always ending up betrayed. Ramsay knew he needed to stop believing the words that left his father’s mouth. But it was his father. The only family he had. And so, he was ready to get his heart broken every week as long as he still had a roof over his head and someone to see once in a while. The bell on the door rang as he entered, and both Emmie and Mateo looked up. They didn’t usually have many shifts together, but as Jessy couldn’t come to work and Mateo was more than happy to make more m

The tiny hairy man made his way into the old garage, through the miniature door in the back. Knocking on the door thrice before undoing the four locks on it, he was faced with two muscular men who looked much like him, only about three heads taller. “Beast,” one of the two greeted, the other simply nodding, eyes flashing reverence as he bucked his head at the short man. “How’s the girl?” the tiny guy asked with his incredibly low voice. “Stopped screaming.” “Good.” Then, handing a newly bought mace to the quiet man, he clarified, “If she starts screaming again.” They moved to a private lounge where a few others were nursing some beers, playing poker with thousands of dollars, just for fun. “Sir,” one of them said, all of them immediately standing to show their loyalty to him. “Beast,” another said, eyes wide, with a smirk on his face. “Jones has a girl.” “A girl?” Beast asked, frowning deeply, not believing it. “He onl

The next day, Emmie was working again. It felt nice to start her morning with the same people that had been in it for over a month already: the old couple, a few construction workers from Christopher’s dad’s company, a small girl with her single father, and loads of different truck drivers. When noon started to roll around, people with normal sleep schedules started to come to the diner for a morning coffee and breakfast. Jessy was working again, but because of her health problems, her doctor had recommended not moving too much, which meant Emmie was on waitress duty while she took the orders at the counter and prepared coffee and milkshakes. Ramsay walked through the door about at eleven, face ice-cold as he went to sit by himself in his regular booth. He sighed while closing his eyes and rested his nape against the back of his booth. At this point, he didn’t even have the energy to look for Emmie or see if she was approaching him or not. The girl, after see

It wasn’t until Monday that the town got the news. Marty Mapels, Reggie’s father, had died during the night of Emmie’s birthday party. He was found the night after, on the Southside, beaten to death.Emmie was at work when the news came from the radio. The whole diner suddenly fell silent, just as the rest of the town, and the whole morning, only one thing was on people’s minds—who could’ve possibly killed him. This death was far from being an accident.The girl knew the man personally. He was a mechanic, and her father had been friends with him, so when Emmie was little, she always tagged along to watch how they worked on cars, and eventually, to help them. Reggie wasn’t there most of the time, but when he sometimes was, the young Emmie didn’t trust him. He was Christopher’s friend, but never really hers.But, despite the fact that he could fix cars, the guy hadn’t been the greatest dad or husband. Occ

The following Saturday, with Emmie’s parents out of town for a conference, the girl was finally allowed to go to the drive-in—the first one this summer. Well, maybe ‘allowed’ wasn’t the best word choice for it, but she was able to go. Supposedly, she was going with Samuel in his truck, even though Emmie was sure her gay best friend would sneak off to have a secret date with whoever he had been running around with lately, and she would be able to slip into the oddly big projection booth Ramsay most likely would be at. And there was Emmie’s problem. She couldn’t tell her friend she would be having ‘a date’ with someone, and therefore, couldn’t dress like it. But for Ramsay, she also didn’t only want to pull on her skinny jeans and a sweater as usual. Biting her lip, the girl observed the outfit laid out in front of her on the bed; ripped jeans that her mom never let her wear, and a slim white sweater. Emmie carefully grabbed the light material, folding