Page 2 of Lucky Sucker

“Sophomore.”

“You’ve got that look,” he said. “Not a bad look. Just overwhelmed. It happens to the best of us. How about I get you a strawberry milkshake on the house while you decide what you want.”

“Thank you.” I could’ve cried, but that was my body’s response to almost everywhere that had me emotionally compromised. “I’ll keep looking. I’m a bit of a picky eater too. So, I—”

The man smiled at me and nodded. “I get that. My daughter doesn’t touch vegetables.”

“Dad,” a voice called out from the kitchen as a woman walked through the double doors. “You’ve got to stop telling people that.” She approached the counter. “I do eat vegetables. Potatoes are in fact a vegetable, which he forgets, despite owning this place for twenty-five years.”

It caught me in a giggle and a snort. “I’m kinda the same. I will have a cheeseburger, but I don’t want any ofthaton it.”

His daughter clicked her tongue. “One plain cheese,” she said. “Any fries?”

Her father walked off, laughing and mumbling to himself.

I finished placing my order and was guided to a table by the window. It was in the direct opposite way of the hockey players in the other corner. I could barely see them now, but I could still hear them and their loud voices, traveling as if they were talking to someone across the street.

Occupied by my phone, I texted my mom and told her I was here safe, as well as getting something to eat. She’d offered to drive me, but she was worse than me with things, and something my therapist had mentioned about how her worries had hurt me in a way, but I could never have told her that, I didn’t want to send her into therapy too. I doubt she’d ever forgive me.

“Plain cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry milkshake,” the excited voice came at me as food was place in front of me. “Also, hi, I’m Lucy.” She shuffled into the seat opposite me, placing the tray on the table. “I’m starting at Caldwell College next week, still living here, because my dad is cutting cost of accommodation.” She rolled her eyes. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you studying?”

I was stunned, in a good way. “I—I—”

“Lucy, stop bothering the customers,” her father called from the counter.

“I’m making friends,” she sassed.

“I’m Wren,” I said. “I’m a journalism major, and I got into sports, watching it, not playing it, when I was younger with my dad, so this place seemed good.”

“Oh, where are you from originally?”

“Philadelphia,” I said, even if I wasn’t really from there, I lived close enough to say I was. “So, what are you studying?”

Lucy clicked her tongue. “I’m on the swim team,” she said. “I nearly qualified for the junior Olympics, but yeah, that didn’t happen, so I’m not salty or anything, but I would love to eventually swim for the US at the Olympic level.”

“And with no vegetables in your diet?” I joked, hoping I hadn’t overstepped.

She cackled and swotted her hand on the tray. “Except potatoes,” she said, still laughing. “But it’s mostly about the protein anyway. Anyway, I should get back over there considering we’re oh-so busy here.” She rolled her eyes again. “I’ll see you around, Wren.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Extroverted people were energy saps on me, I didn’t blame them for being an extrovert, but every interaction with me left me wanting to curl up into a tiny ball and feel the full weight of my beaded blanket to help cocoon me. In the booth at the diner, I focused on clutching my crocheted orca, Bloo, at my stomach as it grumbled from the smell of food in front of me.

Anxiety was an asshole. There was barely anyone in the diner, yet I was burning up from what I assumed were eyes on me, people watching me eat, people judging me from asking for a plain cheeseburger, and I didn’t want to be loud slurping the shake either. I was paralyzed in the seat for a moment, and then my body did its own thing, throwing me a life preserver out in the sea of self-sabotage, I grabbed one of the fries and it had immediate calming effect. My therapist mentioned how an empty stomach and caffeine could exacerbate symptoms of anxiety. I needed that daily reminder because I always forgot to eat.

The hockey guys all stood, and I recalled one of them. Luke Hotchkiss, he was announced as the new team captain before college broke for the semester. He was, in a word, gorgeous. Tall with these deep eyes that pinned him as campus heartthrob for another year.

I’d been staring, he caught me with a glance. A deer in headlights, I didn’t know what to do, so I continued to stare. He was going to be one of my picks for the fantasy league, without a doubt, I was going to do everything to get Luke Hotchkiss on my team. Last season, he won an award for goals he scored. I was surprised he hadn’t been pushed into the draft early, but I knew it wasn’t the dream of every player to be drafted into the NHL.

“So hot,” a voice whispered as they left.

Lucy was stood right beside me. “Oh, I—”

“I always try flirting with them when they come in, but nobody flirts back because of how protectiveheis,” she nodded to her dad behind the counter.

It must’ve been painfully obvious I was gay then if she wasallowedto talk to me. “I mean, they’re ok, the football team has hotter guys.” That was another lie, I was getting far too comfortable just lying. The football team was made up of much more muscular men, and not my type at all.

“They’re fine, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Meatheads and all. You got a boyfriend?”

As I looked down at Bloo, I spotted the rainbow enamel flag pinned to my jacket. Well, yes, the signs were clear and obvious. Maybe that’s why they were looking at me, assuming they were. It wasn’t like I thought anyone was homophobic, but the longer my brain thought about it, the more it festered into something I needed nipping in the bud.

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