Their shoes squeaked on the checkered, black-and-white floor in desperate need of scrubbing. All the tables were purple and circular with green chairs, save for the bright yellow booths that lined the front and only window. The chaotic metal light fixtures hung from the ceiling, their lights kept low. Giant Xs made out of duct tape seemed to be covering cracks in the wall.
But not a single seat was empty. Several groups crowded the waiting area.
“Velma, oh my God! How cute! Where are you guys coming from? Heading to?” the hostess asked.
“From a costume party.”
“I love dressing up. I can’t wait for Halloween.” She began to gather the menus. “Just the two of you? I might be able to squeeze you in now.”
“Yes, but to go.”
“Even better,” she said. “Have a seat in the bar. The consoles are electronic menus. Order directly from there when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Takumi said. He led Alice to the dimly lit left where they picked the first two available bar stools.
She leaned close to him to make sure he could hear her. “Where are we going after this?”
“Somewhere quiet. It’s pretty loud in here.” He kept his head close to hers.
“Do you come here often?” She commandeered control of the menu, flipping through the screens. “Do you know what you’re going to get? What tastes the best?”
“Yes. Florentine egg-white omelet. And for you,” he said, “grilled cheese?”
“I do love grilled cheese, especially with dill pickles. A friend got me obsessed with it. But I think I want pancakes.”
They placed their order (complete with a large chocolate-and-marshmallow milk shake for Alice). “I need support,” she said when Takumi eyed her as he paid. “I won’t feel good until I at least attempt to eat my feelings.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Do you really think you’re capable of going head-to-head with a milk shake? Let me repeat that: a milk shake.”
“Challenge accepted. Let’s start the night over.” He turned to face her. Eye contact. Sure, she could hold his gaze, no problem.
“Hello, Alice.”
God, had someone turned the air off? Wasn’t that illegal in restaurants?
“Takumi,” she said.
“You look lovely tonight.”
“As opposed to every other day when I look like trash?”
“I never said that,” he said, amused and completely at ease.
“I like to read between the lines,” she admitted. “Figure out what you’re not saying when you say things.”
“Is that so?” One of his eyebrows arched toward his hairline and that slight grin was almost too much for her. Almost. She was still in total control of all her faculties.
“You’re doing a horrible job. Try one more time,” he encouraged.
He leaned closer, shoulders hunched, their faces inches apart. Up close, Alice realized that Takumi’s lip used to be pierced. Snakebites: two tiny holes rested just below his bottom lip in each corner.
He gazed at her like she was a painting—lingering over her features one small exquisite section at a time. Her face grew hotter by the second. She couldn’t turn away from the soft, wondrous look in his eyes if she wanted to. He spoke again, slower, deeper, a captivated whisper escaping from between his lips. “You are so lovely.”
And that’s when she lost it. Bubbly giggles erupted out of her—totalfangirl after her long-suffering ship had their first kissgiggles. If there were room, she would have fallen backward and kicked her legs in the air.
“I’m sorry,” she said over and over again. In a swift move, she plucked a random flyer from a tray and hid her face behind it. “Oh my God, that was ridiculous.”