Kids These Days

Chapter 39: Becca

"You're a runner!" Kiran exclaims. "Long distance or sprints?"

"Sprinters don't count," I scoff. I bet he runs the four-hundred.

"Spoken like a true Cross Country athlete," he says with a grin. "I used to race the four-hundred until I got too busy with work. I don't suppose Talia told you what our family does for a living?"

"We haven't spoken much since the party."

Before Kiran can elaborate, a waitress pops up in front of our table, her smile as bright as her bubblegum-pink skirt. "Can I get y'all anything to drink?"

"Coffee," says Kiran. "Black."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "I'll have the same thing."

"Are you sure y'all don't want me to bring over any cream or sugar? I can --"

"No," Kiran and I say at the same time, making the waitress jump a little.

"Sounds like you two know exactly what you want," she says, with a knowing smile. "I'll be right back to take your orders!"

After she leaves, Kiran slides a quarter out of his wallet for the tiny jukebox on the table. "Any preferences?" he asks, flipping through the song options.

Anything but Springsteen, I'm about to say, when one of the singers catches my eye. "Patsy Cline. My grandmother loves her."

He pushes the quarter through the slot. "Your grandmother has good taste."

"She does. But I doubt we drove all the way out here to discuss music."

"Would that be so torturous?"

"Kiran," I say, not bothering to hide my exasperation, "why did you bring me here?"

"Because I think you're the prettiest girl in Dusty Valley?"

"Try again."

Kiran doesn't look discouraged. If anything, he looks charmed by my impatience. "I need your help, Becca. I'm looking for something, and I think you're the key."

The waitress reappears with two steaming mugs of coffee. "No cream or sugar!" she declares. "Now, have y'all figured out what you want to eat, or would you like to hear the specials?"

"I flew here from Connecticut for the chocolate-chip pancakes," Kiran says. "I don't need to hear the specials."

For some reason, this makes the waitress beam at Kiran as if he just walked in, announced he owned the place, and is giving everyone a raise. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. (One day, they're going to get stuck like that.) "Excellent choice! And for the lady?"

I haven't had a chance to look at the menu, so I shrug and say, "I'll have the same."

"I knew you'd come around to pancakes," Kiran says, making me dearly wish I'd let Talia punch him in the face at the party.

As soon as our overly-friendly waitress is out of earshot, I lean across the table and tell him, sternly, "I'm not double-crossing Talia for you. Find someone else to help you look for the gold."

He leans forward too, excited. "You've already started searching for the lost gold?"

"No! I mean, kind of. We've run into a few obstacles. It's none of your business."

"I'm a professional treasure hunter," he says, his ridiculous grin getting wider and wider with each word. "It quite literally is my business."

I ignore this. "Why did you call me a key? You don't know anything about me."