Fall ❈ Benny Rodriguez

iii. paper castles

CHAPTER THREE!
PAPER CASTLES　FRANKIE LYMON
& THE TEENAGERS

　

　

THERE'S THIS NEW place a few blocks from your house. You'd love it. Wanna catch up?

　After clarifying that this new place happened to be a diner, I wholeheartedly accepted Jordan Phillips' invitation. He arrived minutes later, in a sleek silver car—his own car. I remembered the days that Jordan would show up at my house and walk me to his destination. Those days, clearly, were over.

　He'd greeted me with a shy smile, and said, "You look pretty."

　A smile had pulled on my lips, along with a frown of confusion, because I'd only thrown on a tank top and jeans, and pulled my curly hair into a ponytail. Still I thanked him, and noticed, for the first time, how handsome he was. His hair, the brown now swallowing most of the blond, was swept to either side, similar to River Phoenix's hair in Running On Empty.

　Jordan's bones seemed sharper now, more defined, although there was still a soft roundness to his cheeks. He was the very image of a soft beam of light, it seemed—only he was not Benny, whom had superseded the sun in my world alone. Surely no one could love him as much as me, save for Elizabeth.

　As the silence had engulfed the two of us, these were my thoughts. Everything, everything revolved around Benny, even still. Being with Jordan somehow only reminded me of that.

　Finally, we arrived at an unfamiliar but welcoming diner. Signs plastered the windows, glowing neon colors. Above the diner, in giant, glowing pink script read: Ruby's. The entire building was reminiscent of a fifties or sixties diner. Before we even entered, I sent Jordan the nod of approval.

　The inside was magical, with a black and white checkered tile floor, dozens of plaques and records and posters of old-time celebrities swallowing the baby yellow walls, along with a shiny red old-fashioned telephone. Normal lights were dulled; the inside was illuminated with color: pink and purple, mostly. Against one of the walls rested a jukebox, in front of which stood two laughing girls.

　There were several people inside already: Clearly Ruby's Diner was already popular. Most of the booths—red-seated and yellow-tabled—were taken, as well as the long, red bar stools. The majority of the customers were teenagers, which amazed me, although there was an old couple at one corner, shooting spitballs at each other.

　Jordan leaned to touch his lips to my ear, over the steady noise. "We got lucky," he said. "One of the best seats is open."

　My eyes turned to Jordan, and then followed his finger. On the opposite end of the diner an empty booth awaited. Just beside it, resting in a hollowed out space in the wall, was a motorcycle, painted the brightest red.

　If my eyes had been alight before, they were blazing now. "Cool!"

　Jordan laughed and touched his cool fingers to my arm; shivers ran down my spine. As if sensing this, he quickly moved his hand away. Feeling slightly guilty, I smiled up at him, playfully touched my shoulder to his, and moved for the booth.

　After claiming the empty booth and each receiving a menu for our perusal by a waitress who strongly resembled a red-headed Marilyn Monroe, I allowed myself to ask the question that had been bugging me the most.

　"Didn't you say you were grounded?"

　Jordan's dark eyes flickered upward through his lashes to meet mine; probably he had no idea how attractive it was, no idea how chills pricked my skin for it. Then a smirk turned the edges of his lips. That, too, had a strange effect on me.