Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,7

suddenly got a case of the vapors or something?” I ask, the corners of my mouth lifting slightly. She cracks one eyelid open and peers suspiciously at me.

“I don’t know what that is, but if it means we finally get to go and feed me, then yes, that’s exactly what I have,” she says.

“Come on, weirdo. Let’s go eat before you waste away to nothing.”

We take the back way to the diner so I can stop and check on Mr. Ambrose, and he can flirt shamelessly with Sunday. While I was away, Sally made sure to take the kind old man something for lunch every day, so I know he was getting at least one regular meal. Still, he looks a little slower and a little thinner to me now.

Watching him with my best friend, I marvel at their easy banter and the care she shows toward him. Care that I’ve never seen directed his way by anybody other than myself and Sally. I tried my damndest for a full year to convince him to let me buy him new shoes, but he always refused. Five minutes after meeting Sunday, he agreed to go to Goodwill with her and let her buy him a whole new outfit and a backpack. She has an innate ability to make people instantly comfortable, and sometimes, even charm them into doing things they might not normally do.

Was she ever a sight in the middle of the thrift store. I’ve never seen anybody have so much fun in what can be kind of a sad place. By the end of the shopping trip, every person there was half in love with her, including Mr. Ambrose, who has been shamelessly flirting with her since.

We finally make it in the diner's back door only after Sunday solemnly agrees to consider the old man’s tongue-in-cheek marriage proposal. Halfway across the kitchen, the swinging door to the dining room flies open, smacking into the wall behind it and making us jump while presenting a flushed and flustered Sally in front of us.

“Girls! Hi!” She smiles so widely I can count nearly every tooth in her mouth, and I immediately know something’s up. Fanning herself with the bottom of her apron, she just stands there silently, continuing to smile and fan and block our way.

“Uh, hi? What’s with you, Sal? You look like a fifteen-year-old who just stole the keys to her daddy’s liquor cabinet.” Her face turns a deeper shade of pink, and she swats at me playfully.

“You two have visitors, and if they aren’t the best looking dudes I’ve ever see—” The rest of her sentence is lost to me as my stomach takes a nosedive and lands somewhere near the bottoms of my feet. I see her mouth moving but don’t hear a single word.

They’re here.

They came.

HE came.

My body is getting its wires crossed and flipping between gleeful excitement, the pants-shitting anxiety I love so fucking much, and straight-up anger. Sunday looks at me with concern and grabs my hand when I start to wobble, instantly turning Sally’s freak out dial to thirteen.

“Shit! It’s them, isn’t it? Should I tell them to leave? I own the damn place, so you know I can kick ‘em out if you want me to. I don’t care how hot they are.” Sally pushes her sleeves further up her arms in preparation to throw down, but before she can ask us to hold her earrings, Sunday pats her on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“You hold on there, Killer. It’s okay. Our girl here is just having a moment. Right, Stell?” Squeezing my hand tightly, my best friend in the world looks me in the eyes, seeking some kind of confirmation. Finally, she nods once and gently pushes past Sally, leading the way into the dining room and tugging me along behind her.

The place is empty except for the two figures seated in a red vinyl booth in the corner; one young, one older.

That’s not right. There shouldn’t be an older one.

I didn’t think it was possible, but at the realization, my stomach sinks even further, and there is a pretty solid chance I’m going to throw up on my shoes. Sunday has the opposite reaction. As Payne unfolds his six-foot frame from behind the table and stands to greet us, she drops my hand and launches herself at him, jumping up and wrapping her arms and legs around him like a baby koala. His blush is endearing, and his grin