“Sure,” I say, surprised my starving monster of a stomach didn’t growl out the word for me.
Roger’s diner should have a much cooler name because the place is incredible. It’s right on the water, just half a mile away from my house, with outdoor seating on the decking that overlooks Lake Sterling. The menu has everything you could want, from breakfast to burgers to milkshakes and more. My mouth waters just looking through the laminated pages of delicious food. The prices are also cheaper than anything I’ve seen in Dallas. Ah, small town life. You’re the best.
Max sits across from me, quiet as we both read our menus. Sure, it’s a little awkward sitting here with a man in a totally platonic way, especially when I’m sharing a house with him, but at the moment I am too hungry to care.
Even our waitress is straight out of a small town cliché. She’s mid-40’s with her blonde hair piled high in a gorgeous messy bun on top of her head. Her bright red lipstick makes me smile. The waitresses back where I’m from are overworked, overstressed college students who couldn’t be bothered to tell you good morning.
“Welcome, welcome,” she sing-songs as she drops off our drink orders. I got a Dr. Pepper and Max ordered an unsweet tea. Gross. Who doesn’t like sugar in everything at every given time? Finally, I’m seeing a flaw in Max, who otherwise seems like a pretty decent guy. I order a cheeseburger and fries. Max orders a BLT with a side salad.
“Ew,” I say after our waitress is out of earshot. “A side salad?”
Max quirks an eyebrow. “They have good salads here.”
My grimace intensifies. “Your BLT has lettuce and tomato on it. That’s basically a salad on a sandwich so getting a side salad is redundant.”
He snorts. “I like salads.”
“Cheese fries are better.”
Deep down, I like salads too. I mean, not all the time and not as a side when you could have fries, but they’re okay. I can’t help myself, though. Whatever Max likes I am determined to not like. It might be childish, but it reminds me of my promise to myself. No more romance. No more hot guys or flirty chitchat. The old Julie would have happily pretended to love everything a guy loved just so they’d like me. Not anymore.
Our waitress brings out a pitcher of water to refill his cup.
“Good to see you’re dating again,” she says, turning to me with a wink. “Honey, he’s a keeper, I promise.”
I choke on my cheeseburger, then rush to take a sip of my soda to cover my coughing. My cheeks turn red.
“Not a date,” Max says, glancing up at the waitress. He cuts me some slack by not even looking over at how embarrassing I look right now. “She’s new to town. And just a friend.”
“Oh,” she says, frowning as if this is the worst news she’s heard all day. “Welcome to Sterling, hun. What’s your name?”
“I’m Julie.”
“Hi, Julie.” She puts a hand on my shoulder and leans down. I guess she thinks she’s being subtle, but her voice is not quiet at all when she whispers, “Max is a good man. A real, real, good man.”
Max’s hand covers his face. I wait until she’s gone before snorting out a laugh. “That wasn’t awkward or anything.”
“Yeah, sorry about her. She’s been friends with my mom forever. She’s probably off calling her right now because in her mind, there’s no way a guy can just be friends with a woman.”
I shrug. “Joke is on her because I don’t date.”
“Never?” He stabs his fork into his salad. “Or not anymore?”
“Never again,” I say. A weird silence falls over us and I don’t know what gets into me but I’m compelled to keep talking. Stupid soda sugar rush. “There was a time in my life where I was stupid enough to think romance was real. Now I’m older and wiser and know better.”
“Maybe I’m dumb, but I’ve still got hope.”
I snort. “Have fun getting disappointed.”
That weird silence falls over us again, so I concentrate on dunking my fries into ketchup. Even with the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees, and the children laughing a few tables over, it just feels very, very quiet in the space between Max and me.
“So what do you do for a living?” Max asks. He must feel it too.
“I’m a writer.”
“Journalism and stuff?”
I shake my head over a mouthful of buttery roll. “Novels.”
