Page 3 of Some Kind of Forever
We turn down Main Street, and the ocean comes into view. “There’s your beach,” I offer, pointing straight ahead. This view of the Pacific Ocean is amazing. Paired with the overcast sky, it seems like the perfect place to relax this summer.
“Nope.” He juts out his jaw. “That’s the ocean with a bunch of cliffs and rocks. The beach has sand and sun and?—”
“Some bikinis?”
“They can wear whatever they’d like,” he says, a smirk sliding across his face. “I can appreciate it all. I’m just saying, I didn’t sign up for a dry summer.”
I’ve known Hunter long enough to know he’s not upset about the beach, so much as who usually frequents the beach. He rotates through relationships as quickly as he refreshes his timeline. I don’t relate to that approach.
“Think of it as a palate cleanser. Take the summer to clear your head before next semester’s flings. Besides, there are interesting people in small towns. Maybe stop thinking with your di?—”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re Mr. Charming wherever you go. You could make friends with a plastic spoon if you wanted to. I don’t have the patience for that.”
Charming. This isn’t the first timesomeone’s called me that. Sure, I make friends easily and like meeting people from all walks of life. I follow the Golden Rule and try to help when I can, but I don’t set out to dazzle people with my personality. I just try to be a good person. If that means I have charm, then so be it.
My stomach growls, and I glance at the clock. We haven’t stopped to eat real food since we got breakfast on our way out of LA, and a person can only eat so many granola bars. “Hey, look up some restaurants around here,” I say abruptly. “We still have an hour before check-in.”
“Restaurants in NoBeachTown, USA. Got it,” he says, exaggerating the tapping of his thumbs on the screen. “There’s a Rosa’s Pizzeria, Seaside Tacos, Nando’s Fish & Pasta, SandWishes Deli, and?—”
“Patti’s Place,” we say simultaneously as I spot the large building straight ahead. It’s a rustic-looking diner with weathered wood siding and dark stained trim along the roof. It looks more like a cozy cabin than a diner. The wordsPatti’s Placesit right above the entrance in bold white block-style font, and a giant neon red sign blinks the wordDINERin the parking lot.
Hunter looks up and shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”
A bell tinkles overhead, signaling our entrance. The place is nearly empty. It’s around two o’clock, and only a few patrons sit at the counter.
“Hey, guys! Seat yourselves. I’ll bring menus in a sec,” the waitress booms from behind the counter. She’s a short woman, probably in her mid-fifties, with dark brown hair. Glasses hang onto the tip of her nose, and she wears a navy-blue apron with the namePattion the pocket. “Bert, you ready for that pie yet?” Her voice projects across the counter as she looks toward an older man in suspenders.
“Don’t rush me, Patti!” Bert shakes his head and grumbles, “I’m retired now. I can take as much time as I want.”
Patti chuckles and grabs the pie tin, slicing and dishing up a hearty piece. She sets the plate in front of Bert and winks, saying, “I’ll just leave this here for whenever you’re ready.”
Hunter heads toward a booth, eyes down at his phone while he walks. I take in the decorations around the eatery as I follow behind. Sepia photos of surfers and framed news articles of people fishing cover one wall, while brown and white striped surf boards are anchored along the other. The booths sit along large windows, and the brown vinyl seat squeaks as I ease onto my side of the table.
Patti sets down two glasses of water and plastic-covered menus. “You here for vacation?” she asks.
Hunter nods, and I smile at her. “Yeah, we’re here for the summer. I’m Chase,” I say—reaching for her hand—“and this is Hunter.”
I kick his foot, and he pops his head up, offering a thin-lipped grin.
“You must be the famous Patti. It’s a nice place you’ve got here,” I say, winking.
With a chuckle, she grabs her apron at the corners and gives a small curtsy. “Well, aren’t you a charmer! I sure am Patti. Here for the whole summer, huh? You must be staying in those fancy long-term rentals at The Bluffs. Where’d you come from?”
“We drove up from LA this morning,” I say, nodding.
Her eyes widen as she says, “Los Angeles? Bender’s a different world than what you’re used to, then.”
“Yeah, it is.” Hunter snorts, suddenly interested enough to add to the conversation. “A different universe…with no beaches…”
“Well, welcome to Fort Bender. I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.” She beams a smile before walking away.
“Bro,” I say, kicking his foot again.
“What?” He kicks me back.
“Would it kill you to talk to people?”
“Yes,” he says flatly, eyes fixed to his screen.
