go!” I march up to her in what can only be an aggressive Charlie move, and grab her hand. She tries to pull away from me, but I hold on tight, dragging her across the street. “Let. Me. Go!”
As soon as we reach the other side, I spin around to face her. “What’s your problem? Stop acting like a…,” fourteen-year-old, I finish in my head.
“What?” she says. “And why do you even care what I act like?” Her bottom lip is puffing out like she’s about to cry. I suddenly feel very sorry for being so rough with her. She’s just a little kid with tiny boobs and a hormone-addled brain.
“You’re my sister,” I say gently. “It’s time we stick together, don’t you think?” For a minute, I think she’s going to say something—maybe something soft and nice and sisterly—but then she stomps toward the diner ahead of me and flings open the door. Damn. She’s a tough cookie. I follow her in—a little sheepishly—and stop dead in my tracks.
It’s not what I thought it was going to be. It’s not really a diner—more like a club with booths lining the walls. In the middle of the room is what looks like a dance floor. Janette is standing near the bar, looking around in bewilderment.
“You come here often?” she asks me.
I look from the black leather booths to the black marble floors. Everything is black aside from the bright pink signs on the walls. It’s morbid and bubblegum.
“Help you?” A man steps out from a door at the far end of the bar, carrying an armful of boxes. He’s young—maybe early twenties. I like him on sight because he’s wearing a black vest over a pink t-shirt. Charlie must like pink.
“We’re hungry,” I blurt.
He half smiles and nods over to a booth. “Kitchen doesn’t usually open for another hour, but I’ll see what he can whip up for you if you’d like to sit.”
I nod and beeline over to the booth, pulling Janette along with me.
“I was here,” I tell her. “Last weekend.”
“Oh,” is all she says before studying her fingernails.
A few minutes later, the pink t-shirt guy comes out of the back, whistling. He walks over and places two hands on the table.
“Charlie, right?” he asks. I nod dumbly. How does he…? How many times have I…?
“The kitchen was making me a roast chicken. What do you say I share it with you guys? We won’t get busy for a couple more hours, anyway.”
I nod again.
“Good.” He hits the table with his palm and Janette jumps. He points to her. “Coke? Sprite? Shirley Temple?”
She rolls her eyes. “Diet Coke,” she says.
“And you, Charlie?”
I don’t like the way he says my name. It’s too…familiar. “Coke,” I say quickly. When he leaves, Janette leans forward, her eyebrows drawn together. “You always get diet,” she says accusatorily.
“Yeah? Well I’m not quite feeling like myself.”
She makes a little noise in the back of her throat. “No kidding,” she says. I ignore her and try to get a good look around. What were Silas and I doing here? Is it a place we came often? I lick my lips.
“Janette,” I say. “Have I ever told you about this place?”
She looks surprised. “You mean all the times we have heart-to-hearts when we put the lights out at night?”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m a really crappy sister. Geez. Get over it already. I’m extending the olive branch here.”
Janette scrunches up her nose. “What’s that mean?”
I sigh. “I’m trying to make it up to you. Start fresh.”
Just then the pink t-shirt dude brings us our drinks. He brought Janette a Shirley Temple even though she asked for a diet coke. Her face registers disappointment.
“She wanted a diet coke,” I say.
“She’ll like that,” he says. “When I was a kid…”
“Just get her a diet coke.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Sure thing, princess.”
Janette glances at me from under her eyelashes. “Thanks,” she says.
“No problem,” I say. “You can’t trust a guy who wears a pink shirt.” She sort of smirks and I feel triumphant. I can’t believe I thought I liked that guy. I can’t believe I liked Brian. What the hell was wrong with me?
I pick up my phone and see that Silas has texted me multiple times. Silas. I like Silas. Something about his soothing voice and good boy manners. And his nose—he has a wicked cool nose.
Silas: My dad…
Silas: Where are you?
Silas: Hello?
The guy comes back with the chicken and a plate of