Page 86 of Holding On

"Bye!" She waves us on and continues down the hall.

"She seems nice," I say as we get in Becca's van.

"She's great. I really like her. I hope she and Mike can make this work." Becca drives out of the parking lot. "So where should we go?"

"Wherever you want." I feel anxious as I say it. I want to go somewhere private, someplace dark, or a place where there aren't many people. But I'm letting Becca decide since she's the one who needs cheering up. Her mom showing up really got to her, which makes sense. She hasn't seen the woman in five years and then she just appears at her door? She could've at least called and told Becca she was coming.

"How about Sunny's Malt Shop?" she says. "I want a milkshake."

"Sounds good to me."

Actually it's perfect. The malt shop is one of those places where you order from the car so I won't even have to get out and be seen by anyone. Maybe that's why Becca suggested it.

We get there and park next to one of the speakers where they take orders. They serve more than ice cream and now that we're here I'm starving.

"What do you want?" Becca asks.

I peer around her at the menu. "I'll take a double cheeseburger, a grilled chicken sandwich, a large fry, and a Coke."

She stares at me. "Did you not eat today?"

"I ate. But I'm still hungry." I smile. "I'm a growing boy."

A guy's voice comes through the speaker. "Can I help you?"

Becca places our order, getting just a small shake for herself.

I get out my wallet. "Here." I hand her a fifty.

"You don't have anything smaller? It's only fourteen dollars."

"It's all I got. You can keep the change. I don't need it."

"I'm not keeping the change. That's a lot of money."

"It's not my money. It's my dad's. And I owe you gas money for driving me around."

She smiles. "I've only driven you twice."

"Then consider it a big tip. I like my driver." I lean over to kiss her and we don't stop until our food arrives.

The guy hangs the tray off Becca's window. She hands him the fifty.

"I have to get change," he says, then takes off.

"You sure you can eat all this?" She hands me the burger and fries.

"I could eat more than this."

"Really?" She takes a sip of her malt.

"You've never seen what football players eat, have you?"

"No. Mike eats a lot but not that much."

"During the season, we eat constantly. You have to when you're training for hours a day."

"But you're not training now."

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