see the fine details of his beautiful eyes, he can see the strange abnormality in mine.
“Holy shit,” the same unfamiliar voice mutters slowly.
Another thump is quickly followed by Dante’s deep voice asking, “So how was your shift Laura?” I glance over at him, grateful someone is trying to break this floundering situation.
“Okay, I guess. We stayed pretty steady.” I shrug and rub my cheek against my shoulder. I can feel both the boys across the table assessing me. I feel like I have something on my face with the way they won't stop looking.
Nervous energy has me pulling and running my hands along the strap of my bag, which is crossed over my chest.
“Did you eat?” Oliver blurts out like he's been trying and failing to come up with something to say. I tilt my head, staring over at him from his outburst.
“Uh, no. I guess I haven't,” I recall, thinking I should have grabbed something, but I just wasn't hungry, too worried about my mom to be concerned with eating.
He shoves Milo over a bit as he tries to escape the booth. “Let me go put an order in with Gran and Gus before he shuts down the grill.”
Milo hastily stands up to let a rushing Oliver out from his inside seat, and we all watch as he passes through the kitchen doors.
“Hope you like burgers,” Dante remarks as Milo slides back into his seat, “cause I'm sure that's what he's getting. The bigger and greasier, the better if you ask Ollie.”
I'm not sure how to respond or if he even expects me to, so I just sit there wondering how I've managed to get myself in this situation.
“Football's about done, when's the last game again?” Dante asks Milo, who looks the slightest bit confused before he answers.
“Last game's the weekend before Halloween. Remember?”
“Yeah that's right.” Dante nods. “What did coach want after the game Saturday?”
Milo is slow to respond and when he does, he sounds like he’s talking to a young child. “He just wanted me to spend a few extra hours at the gym this week with coach Bills, but didn't we already talk about this?”
Dante tilts his heads toward me and widens his eyes. Before either of them can say anything else I quietly interrupt, “I should probably get going.”
Both boys turn to me when I speak. Their attention is a little overwhelming.
“But...” Dante searches for something to say. “Ollie will be back any minute, and he probably already ordered you something,” he finishes.
I feel heat in my cheeks and try with all my might to find an excuse why I'd need to leave right away. Dante looks over at Milo like he might add something, but he doesn't. Just as I’m about to open my mouth and insist I need to go, the kitchen doors swing open and out backs Oliver.
He's holding four blue tinted clear plastic cups with his fingers wrapped around them the way someone familiar with serving does. Oliver brings them to the table without spilling a drop of the liquid, which is dangerously close to the top. He sets them down and divides the cups between each of us as he looks over the table.
“Miss me?” he jokes to our quiet group. His eyes scan the three of us and his brow furrows. “I had to promise Gus we’d help him wax the floor next month, so he’d fire the grill back up.” Oliver slides into the seat easily.
Milo snorts, “We always do.”
Oliver rolls his eyes but grins. “We know that, but he needed to hold something over our heads.”
With Oliver back at the table, he doesn’t let awkward silence fill the space between us. I'm not nearly as desperate to flee. Time passes so quickly before I know it, Maggie has a tray loaded with several meals headed to our table.
Once all the plates are down and Maggie has returned to the kitchen with a warning the kitchen is closed, I eye all the dishes before me. There are a least seven full meals packed on the table.
“Went with a little of everything,” Oliver explains to the once again quiet table.
That he did. There are chicken fingers, a huge plate of lasagna with a butter dipped breadstick, a few plates of burgers, and even what I'm pretty sure you'd call a sampler plate filled with tons of fried goodness.
My mouth waters at seeing it all and my stomach lets out an embarrassing growl.
My hand flies to cover my belly button,