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(LII.) - Part Two

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Jess blinked. She didn't realise, until now, that she'd been playing with her food. She stopped turning her fork in the salad, and took to a bite-size portion to her mouth instead.

"You don't need to know what I'm thinking about." With her mouth full, she couldn't sound snarly.

"No problem." He reached up and fiddled with a lock of chestnut hair that fell over one gray eye.

She almost blurted out that he needed a haircut, but quelched the urge. Allen had no use for her in his life. They'd stopped needing each other six years ago. Simple as that. No longer best friends. Not even friends. So, they couldn't even share remotely anything.

"What is it?" he promptly asked.

She sneaked a peek at him. He must have sensed her discomfort. "Nothing. None of your concern."

He sighed deeply and leaned back in the mahogany chair he sat on. "Come on. Where's the food?"

Again, she wanted to ask a question. Like, why he was in a hurry? However, she put another forkful of salad and shrimp into her mouth. There—that was what she should be doing instead. Eating, not prodding her ex-BFF for unwanted information about his life.

Soon, his steak and her paillard and puddings arrived at their table, along with her milkshake. Before the waitress left, he ordered a turkey club and two slices of lemon cheesecake.

The two teenagers ate in silence. The same heavy silence.

Minutes after his other orders had come, the door of the diner jingled the bell. Another customer.

"Jessica?"

Jess concentrated hard on savouring her puddings. She took the last bite of the first one.

"Jessica?"

The urgency in Allen's voice made her look up at him. "What?" she mumbled.

"Are you done? Let's go."

She looked down at her half-empty plate of chicken paillard, one banana-and-chocolate pudding on a paper plate, little portion of salad, and half-filled glass of milkshake. Then, her eyes shifted to his empty plate, cheesecake crumbs on another plate, and almost-finished club. Her hard brown gaze locked with his studious gray one.

"Thank you very much, Allen Storm, for trying to deprive me of dinner."

"We have to leave," he averred, not caring that she wasn't ready to.

"Why?"

"No ques—"

"You know what? Get out, Allen. Out of here, and out of my life. I don't care or want to know the reason you're hovering around. Just... leave." The grip on her fork tightened. "Now."

He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth harshly. She inwardly wished the enamel would wear away, and his perfect dentition would be ruined.

The silence became heavier. The two of them stared each other down, none making a twitch. Several seconds ticked by before he finally dropped his cutlery and noisily stood up. Then, after giving her one last glance, he walked out of the diner.

Jess returned to her meal. When she was done, she gave the old lady a one-hundred-dollar bill, and told her to keep the change. She left immediately after receiving a slew of words of gratitude.

Right before she climbed onto her bike, she got a weird feeling. She looked around the parking lot. There was no one here. Lots of cars and few bikes lined the lot. The night crowd was starting to arrive at this hour. Nothing felt out of place, except for a Koenigsegg Agera in the midst of Toyota and Honda cars. So what was making her feel weird?