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KYA SAT across from Dayvon in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant. She scanned the menu, her eyes flicking over the options. Dayvon had brought her here to cheer her up after seeing how down she was yesterday, hoping the change of scenery and good food would lift her spirits.
"What are you getting?" Dayvon asked, setting his menu down with a decisive thud. He already knew his choice.
"Probably their shrimp and grits," Kya replied, Dayvon's face twisted at the mention of grits.
"Grits? Who the fuck eats grits?" he said, his tone incredulous.
"Umm, I do, sir," Kya shot back, laughing. "And stop playing like grits aren't good."
Dayvon leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a grin. "Nah, you tripping . Grits taste like wallpaper paste."
Kya's laughter filled the space between them,. "You just haven't had them cooked right. Trust me, these are amazing."
Dayvon shrugged, still unconvinced but happy to see Kya's mood lifting. The warm, inviting aroma of southern comfort food filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware around them. The waitress approached, her notepad ready, and they placed their orders.
As they waited, Dayvon leaned forward, his expression softening. "I'm just glad to see you smile. Yesterday had me worried."
Kya looked up from her glass of water, her eyes meeting his. "Thanks, Dayvon. I needed this."
He nodded "Anytime, Kya. Anytime."
The waiter approached their table with a warm smile. "Hey y'all, ready to order?" she asked, pulling out her notepad and pen.
"Yeah, give me y'all's chicken and waffles, and she'll have the shrimp and grits," Dayvon said, handing the waitress their menus. She nodded and scribbled down their orders with quick, practiced movements.
"Alright, and for drinks?" she asked, looking up from her notepad.
"Water and orange juice, no pulp," Kya said. The waitress nodded, her pen gliding across the paper.
"Got it. I'll be right back with those," she said, offering a friendly smile before walking away. The soft clatter of dishes and the low hum of conversation filled the space around them.
As they waited, Kya glanced around the room, taking in the rustic charm of the restaurant. The wooden tables and chairs, the checkered tablecloths, and the framed pictures of local landmarks on the walls all added to the cozy, welcoming atmosphere. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the savory aroma of fried chicken and maple syrup, making her mouth water.
