Diner Talk

Five: Early Birds

Sang

"Are you sure you're okay sweetheart?" I shifted in my seat again, nodding at Kota absently. I had woken up to a purple-blue bruise on my butt, and I couldn't seem to find a comfortable way to sit. If it hurt this much in the plush vinyl of Kota's car, I was dreading the cold resin of the desks at school. I shifted again, this time crossing one leg over the other. It was better than the other positions, but not by much.

"If you have to use the restroom, we'll make a pit stop. It's no trouble; we're early anyway." I blushed and shook my head. At least Kota had whispered instead of announcing it to the whole car. Nathan and Gabriel were in the back poring over Nathan's phone, arguing intently about relaxed fit jeans. I had no idea who was winning.

"I don't have to go to the bathroom, I just..." My face went even pinker, and I uncrossed my legs.

"Just what?" I opened my mouth to reply, and quickly shut it. How do you tell someone that your backside hurts too much for you to sit directly on it? "Whatever it is you can tell me, okay? I won't tell the others if you don't want me to."

"Thank you. I'm just having a hard time getting comfortable. I have a bruise on my... thigh. And it hurts." He gave me a sympathetic yet knowing smile and rested a hand on my knee.

I hesitantly placed my hand on top of his, heart thundering. Kota was watching the road, but he let his thumb trace tiny circles on the outside of my leg. I smiled to myself and focused on the argument going on behind me.

"Why the fuck do you want to cuff your jeans?" Gabriel's voice filled every crevice of the car, and I watched Kota roll his eyes.

"I want one pair that are a little too long. I like walking in the woods, and I'm tired of being worried about getting poison ivy on my exposed ankles. I'll cuff them the other times so I can wear them without tripping over them. It's a reasonable request, Gabe!"

"Are you trying to look like a gay farmer? Just wear long socks! I'll buy you tube socks myself if you promise me no one will ever see them." I giggled, and Kota squeezed my knee gently, moving his hand up to meet the hem of my skirt.

"Regular people cuff their jeans too! I'm not going to roll them up to my knees and start wearing straw hats. It's one pair. Let me have this."

Gabriel huffed. "Fine. One pair. And only because you have to donate all your old jeans." I turned to look at them.

"Why does he have to get rid of all his jeans?" Nathan's ears went pink, and Gabriel snorted.

"Because they don't fit. He bought them without me and he got the wrong fucking size." I nodded in understanding and watched Nathan push his shoulder into Gabriel's gently. Gabriel groaned and shoved him away, but he was still leaning towards Nathan. I was happy that whatever Gabriel had been mad at him about was resolved.

When Gabriel had come up to wash my hair the night before he'd seemed calmer than he had all day. We'd talked about music instead of the mission, and I'd realized how much I missed just hanging out with him. He sang me Billy Joel hits and I played an old Vera Lynn song I'd always liked but hadn't heard in years.

I'd gone downstairs to find the TV playing an episode of my and Nathan's zombie show that we had already seen and my homework finished and laid out on the table. I had fallen asleep between the two of them on the couch and woken up between them in Nathan's bed. It was the night I had needed, but we had woken up in a frenzy with Kota already dressed and waiting for us in the living room.

I snapped back to the present as we pulled into the parking lot. I grabbed my backpack and violin from between my feet quickly, squeezing Kota's hand one last time before Gabriel jogged around to open my door for me.