Page 95 of Play Fake
Waylon
The diner seems entirely toobright and too loud this morning, and I pull my cap down to try to shield my eyes from the unrelenting sunlight.
“The grits are really good. Bacon’s not half bad either if you ask for it extra crispy. Eggs and toast are shit, though.” Ben offers advice on the menu, like he’s a server.
“Whatever you get, I’ll have the same.” I rub my temples.
He glances up at me over the plastic menu. “You take something for that?”
“Yeah, it just hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“The food should help. And some coffee.” he waves down a server who’s only too happy to run to his assistance.
“What can I do for you?” She asks in her sweetest, perkiest voice.
“A couple of huge black coffees? And two number fives please. Extra toast and butter, for one.”
“Got it, anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
“All right, well, if you change your mind, just let me know.” She smiles brightly at him and then takes off to the kitchen.
“Shit man, is there anywhere you go where the women don’t want to fuck you on sight?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Yeah? Surprise me.”
Ben shifts in his seat, glancing out the window to the bustling sidewalk.
“If I do, it stays between us, yeah?”
“I didn’t realize a woman not wanting you was a secret.”
He gives me a cutting glance, and I raise my eyebrows in response, shocked he’s this serious about it.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I raise my hand, pretending it’s some version of scout’s honor.
“The one chick I want doesn’t want me back.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“It’s worse than that, even. We’ve known each other since we were kids. She barely knows I exist anymore, and I guarantee has zero interest in fucking me on sight or at any other time.”
“Hard to believe given your batting average.”
“Trust me. I’ve been fucked up over her for years. And I’ve run into her on campus, and she doesn’t even recognize me.”
“It’s not a prof, is it? Some sort of twisted Dr. Robinson situation?”
“No. She’s older, yeah, but no.”
“Your babysitter?”
“Not quite.”
“All right. You gotta spill.”
