Page 57 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

Chapter 18: Babysitting A Jock

We stopped at a diner, which was a dump, but it was our dump for the next hour.

After the complete disaster that was today—being nearly moose-murdered, getting lost in the woods, and receiving the Principal Catherine Verbal Death Threat, we finally had something resembling a win: food.

Not good food. Definitely not. But food.

The diner itself looked like it had been here since the dawn of time. Faded neon sign. Sticky floors. A waitress who looked like she hated her life. But at this point, none of us cared. The moment we were seated in the cracked vinyl booths, we ordered everything our sad budget could afford.

Which, to be clear, wasn’t much.

Joy poked at her soggy fries with mild disappointment.

“Wow. This is actually worse than cafeteria food. I didn’t know that was possible.”

Max, already halfway through his burger, shrugged. “Tastes fine to me.”

Shun, scrolling through her phone, didn’t even look up. “It’s edible. That’s enough.”

Ethan, of course, acted like this was a five-star restaurant. “You guys just don’t appreciate the finer things in life,” he said, gesturing grandly to his questionable-looking grilled cheese. “This? This is art.”

He wasn't in our budget, but that didn't make the food in this messy diner any less shitty.

I sighed, stuffing a handful of fries into my mouth. It was not art. It was cheap, greasy, and absolutely perfect.

For the first time today, nobody was panicking, running, or getting screamed at by an authoritative figure. The group just… ate. Talked. Laughed. Even Mr. Dax loosened up, sipping his coffee in silence, probably still trying to recover from the hell we’d put him through.

Sure, we were still broke. The budget was still wrecked. But at least now, we’d rationalized it. We’d eat lighter for the next few days. No more unnecessary spending. We’d make it work.

That was the plan, anyway.

Dinner went by, and after that we settled the bill. We then started heading back to the bus. The others filed out, one by one, voices blending into the night air. I stayed behind, letting them go ahead, just for a second.

That’s when I saw it.

A bright flash of light—just at the edge of my vision. It blinked. Like it had flared up and vanished in an instant.

I froze.

What was that?

For a moment, I thought maybe I imagined it. But then I heard it—a faint rustling in the bushes nearby.

Every horror movie instinct in my brain screamed at me to leave. To go to the bus, pretend I saw nothing, and live a long, moose-free life.

But I didn’t move.

Instead, I stepped closer.

The diner’s neon sign flickered above me as I inched toward the bush, heart pounding. The night air felt too still. Every sound felt too sharp. I swore I heard something. A breath? A whisper? The faintest shift of movement—

Then—

“What are you doing?”

I nearly had a heart attack.

Ethan appeared behind me like some kind of jock-shaped ghost, completely obliterating my moment of investigation.

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