Page 15 of Sycamore Circle

Are you okay?

Her mother worried way too much.

I’m fine. Don’t worry. See you at seven.

Something was going on with her mom. She sounded more uptight and nervous than normal. She wondered if it had something to do with her dad, but she kind of doubted it. Her parents got along for the most part.

“Here’s your malt.” When she looked up, he put down both the malt and the metal cup that held the extra amount on the table.

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“You want anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.” Fumbling a bit, Finn wrote the final amount, tore off the receipt from the pad of paper then set it on the table. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

He gazed at her a long moment before walking back to Mary.

When his back was to her and he couldn’t see her stare, Chloe studied Finn some more. Noticing that he was just as well-built from the back, she also realized that he was wearing jeans, which was a surprise to see on an Amish boy.

She wondered how he could get away with that. Did his church district not care about his clothes? Or was he in the middle of his rumspringa, and so his family was more lax? Thinking about it some more, she wondered, was he completely out and just hadn’t gone completely “English”? She’d seen a couple of Amish teenagers like that around.

After another minute passed, she took a sip of the malt, thought about how good it was, then opened her backpack and took out her French books and folder. She had forty-five minutes before she had to go to dance. If she got busy, she could be done with the assignment before she left the diner. That meant that she’d only have to do a couple of equations in math when she got home.

She could be done by seven and have some time to relax. That would be awesome.

Pushing the rest of her thoughts from her mind, she pulled out a pen and got to work conjugating verbs. She pretty much hated French, but she hated putting stuff off even more.

CHAPTER 6

Finn was pretty sure he was going to lose his job if he didn’t stop staring at that girl. He wouldn’t blame Aunt Mary for firing him either. Staring at customers was creepy. He knew better. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was so pretty—and she also seemed sweet but kind of aloof at the same time. He knew plenty of Amish girls, but they either acted helpless or like they could run the whole community. This girl—with her pretty, long brown hair and light brown eyes—was different.

Different in a good way.

“Finn, go take that couple’s order,” Aunt Mary said.

“All right.” He looked around the diner, trying to remember who’d been there a while. When he saw the older couple looking around like they were hoping someone would come over, his stomach sank. “I’m sorry,” he told his aunt again.

“Don’t get in a tailspin. They just got here.”

He hurried over, took their orders, and then brought the ticket back to Lane, just like Mary had shown him on his first day on the job.

“Thanks, Finn,” the cook said as he scanned over the ticket. “You did a good job with this.”

“Danke.” Finn smiled at Lane before he headed back to the front of the dining room.

Unable to stop himself, he glanced over at the booth. The girl was still there. She was scowling at the textbook she was working on. Her entire shake was empty.

He was surprised that she had already drunk the whole thing. The girl wasn’t very big, and the malt was. She’d even managed to drink the extra bit that didn’t fit in the glass. Finn had thought there was no way she’d be able to finish it. He was wrong.

Walking over, he picked up the empty glass and silver container. “Want anything else?”

She glanced up at him. “Yeah. A way to conjugate French verbs without losing my mind. Any way you can help me with that?”

“Sorry, no.”

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