At least it gave me solace that some fictional version of myself got a happily ever after.
“I’ll take two-quarter pounders with cheese, a large fry, and–” I glance again at the menu. My eyes draw to a limited-edition milkshake that Aulie ordered at alarming rates this summer. I snort to myself, a small smile tipping my lips up. Against my better judgment, images of her scream across my skull. I’ve never seen someone so content with something so small and frivolous. My heart thrums in a rhythm that only beats when I’m thinking of Aulie, recalling how her eyes lit up when she wrapped her pink pouty lips around the straw and hummed with satisfaction the minute the frozen concoction slid down the back of her throat.
Couch-bound after many injuries, the routine held me captive. The way her lashes fluttered to rest on her cheeks as she savored the first few sips and the content smile on her mouth for the hour after she’d finished.
God, that smile. Not even the most potent painkillers could dull the ache in my heart when she smiled like that.
Grady clears his throat, shaking me out of my Aulie spiral.
Sheepishly, I correct my posture and avoid his curious stare. “Sorry. Um, I’ll take one of those s’mores milkshake things, and that will do it, thanks.”
“Of course, he’d get a milkshake, too,” Grady mutters. Hard worry lines cut across his forehead, highlighted under the harsh fluorescent light.
I shrug. “I mean, it sounds decent.”
“So does sleep.”
With a chuckle, I make my way over to a nearby booth.
A woman sporting a yellow cardigan with a ribbon tying her hair back stands outside the McDonald’s. Discreetly, she snaps a picture of me, blushing when her eyes connect with mine, and realizes she’s been caught. Her eyes rake over me, falling to the tattoos covering my arm. She motions for me to come out.
I shake my head. For all my want to forget, my milkshake spiral brought everything down. Aulie is the only one I want to see tonight. Even if she’s hours away and off-limits.
The tray slides across the table and brings me back to reality. I nod in a silent thank you to the fast-food worker awkwardly moonwalking away.
Placing the s’mores shake under the halo of the lights hanging over the booth, I snap a picture and put it in my chat with Aulie. My fingers hesitate, hovering over the letters, but if I ruined my night already, I might as well poke the wound, too.
Jack
Want one?
Dessy
You have a game tomorrow. Why are you out this late?
Jack
Your up.
Dessy
You’re* Darn it, Jack. Are you drunk?
Jack
No?
Dessy
Liar.
Jack
What are you reading?
Dessy
Actually, believe it or not, Emy dragged me out.
