The Pack Slut

Twenty Five- Somewhere in a Diner

I twirl my spoon around in my half filled cup of coffee. The lazy motion creates ripples in the liquid that bounce off the white walls of the mug.

I prop my head up with my arm against the table of the Sunrise Diner and read the names of the advertisements on the back of the menu.

Larry's Auto-shop

Steve and Sons Hardware

Sheep's Wool Yarn Store

The Truman Book Store

There's a picture of a soccer team in green and black uniforms. Underneath the photo the words

THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING THE SPARTANS BY EATING AT THE SUNRISE DINER

are printed in all caps as if the menu is yelling at me.

I hear someone clear their throat and I glance up to see a waitress with a pad of paper and pen in her hands. She wears her brown hair up in a messy bun held together by a pencil and a few pins. A bandana around her head secures the flyaways that escape. She looks to be in her late forties but she greets me with a painted red smile that I would have crinkled my nose at a few months ago.

Now, I smile back.

"Ready to order something sweetheart?" She asks me and her eyes assess my half drunk coffee mug.

"I'm fine with just coffee," I tell her but she isn't satisfied with this response.

"Nonsense," she flicks her wrist. "Surely you must be at least a little hungry. Especially from driving so far."

"How did you—" I start to ask.

I get cut off by the woman's laugh, "how did I know that? Honey, the whole town knows it. I heard about the shiny new car driving through town before I even started my shift at 6:00. Also," she lowers her voice and leans down so I can hear, "I took a peak at your license plate just to see if it was true that you drove up here from New York."

A little shaken, I furrow my eyebrows and glance at the door across the dinner. As I do so, I see all of the customers with their necks craned to look at my interaction with the waitress. All of their eyes quickly snap back to their own plates of bacon and eggs to pretend like they hadn't been listening to my conversation.

"Don't be alarmed dear, we're a small town. Word travels quick and we all just like to know what's going on is all. Sorry for being a little nosy."

Even thought I'm slightly unsettled, I turn back to the waitress, "it's fine." I force a grin and carry on, "I'll take a popover."

"Wonderful! I'll bring some jam out with that," the waitress scribbles something down on her notepad and scurries away.

To avoid making eye contact with the other customers who are once again staring at me—do they really think I can't see them?—I pull out my phone. I have 112 unread messages and 37 unanswered calls. I open the messages and one name in particular catches my eye: Maika.

Damon introduced Eva to the pack...didn't say anything about you. I miss you.

People are asking me where you are but I haven't said anything. Are you safe at least?

Alpha called me in for questioning. I had to tell him that I knew you and Damon weren't mates, I'm sorry he commanded me. He seemed more worried than angry though. Are you coming home soon?

It was difficult to read through some of the later messages:

I miss you so much. It's been almost two weeks! Your mother is worried.

Please just tell me if you are ok.

Nora, there was another rogue attack today—

I stop reading the last message as the waitress returns with a plate of my food.

"Here you are dear. Is everything alright?" She notices my wide eyes  and shaking hands as I take the plate from her but I force a weak smile.

"Fine, thank you." My clipped tone has her scrunching her eyebrows in confusion but she walks away.

I hurriedly pull out my phone again when I'm sure the waitress is far enough away. My eyes scan over the last message; my blood turns cold at the words.

Nora, there was another rogue attack today. I'm okay. 10 wolves killed. 6 of theirs and 4 of ours. We still don't know what they are after but they tried to get to the tunnels again. Alpha won't let anyone near them. A red wolf asked for you but he ran off with the rest of them when wolves started dying. Please, I'm begging you, tell me you are safe and away from all this.

The message was from yesterday. My fingers hesitate over the lit keyboard on my phone before they start typing on their own accord.

I'm safe. I'm glad ur ok.

I bite my lip and pause again as I ponder over what else to type. I haven't communicated with anyone from my pack since my mother called me two weeks ago. I drove far north into Canada, only staying in one place for a day at most before taking off again.

I stopped for gas a lot but I didn't follow anyone home after Darren. I hadn't looked a cop in the eye since then either. In fact, I haven't talked much to anyone aside from ordering food or a motel room.

The silence gave me more than enough time to think. I thought about what I really wanted and who I really was and I came to a conclusion. As an 18 year old I have absolutely no fucking idea.

My whole life I spent trying to earn others' attention and these past few weeks I've done nothing but avoid it. Not once did I pick up a glass of alcohol or put on a tight skirt to get over Damon.

I've just been driving, thinking, watching a lot of sunsets and falling asleep to crime show reruns.

I put my phone down and pick up my popover and take a bite. I can feel the eyes of a few customers still glued to me but most of them have returned to their own lives.

That's what I need to do. I need to return to my own life.

I shove what's left of my popover in my mouth and wash it down with my coffee. I slide out from the green booth and stride over to the counter where the waitress is drying some milkshake glasses.

"I'll take the check, please" I ask and the waitress nods her head, clearly surprised by my sudden burst of movement as is most of the diner whose attention is now once again all directed to me.

"Will that be all?" The waitress asks and I give her a genuine smile—something I haven't done enough of in my life.

"Yes, thank you." I take the check from her extended hand and slide some bills across the counter.

The waitress hesitates to take the money for a moment, "are you sure you're alright, dear?"

Flattered by a strangers concern—something I've witness a lot over these last few weeks—a slight blush appears on my cheeks.

"I've never been better actually," I answer truthfully and finally satisfied, the waitress takes the money.

"Have a safe trip. Wherever it is you're going, sweetie."

"Home," I tell her. "I'm going home."

With that, I push open the door to the diner and step out into the blinding sunlight. I squint my eyes and raise my hand to cover my face before I make out my blue car in the parking lot. I pull out my keys and start the engine.

After I click my seatbelt into place I unlock my phone and type out the remainder of my message to Maika before hitting send. I smile to myself as I throw the car in reverse and pull out of the lot of the Sunrise Diner.

I'm coming home, the message concluded.

I'm coming home.