ʟɪᴠᴇ ꜰᴀꜱᴛ, ᴅɪᴇ yᴏᴜɴɢ // 𝐝𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧

9 - things change

“Yeah, she did not...” My voice is quiet, not being able to be louder than that.

Before anyone else could say something, a voice from the back of the counter is heard.

“Vicky, the pancakes.”

The waitress turns her head back and screams not to loud a I'm coming and then turns back to us. “I'll get your order in a minute.” With that, she disappears.

I'm not even given a second to think about what just happened, Duff starts asking me the questions I was afraid he would ask.

“Who's Ricky?”

“A friend.”

“You never told me about her.”

“It's complicated.” It's hard to look at him, so my gaze moves down to the menu in my hands.

“You know you can tell me anything. You can talk to me.”

I look back at him for a second before moving my eyes to the menu again, even though I know already too well what I want. “I know, but another time please.”

I hear heels coming in our direction and I automatically know it's Vicky to take our order.

“Have you already decided what you'd like for breakfast today?” Her voice is sweet, but brings too many nostalgia and makes my head hurt slightly​.

“Yeah.” I close the menu and give it to her. “I want a BAE and also pancakes.”

Duff does the same as she turns to him. “And you, Sir?”

“Make that two.”

“And to drink?”

“I want a mug of black coffee.”

Vicky doesn't have to ask him what does he want because he quickly asks for the same as me.

As she leaves us alone once again, I try to keep my eyes locked on the paper with the little dinosaur drawing that every seat as on the table for the kids to be entertained while they wait for their meal.

Duff breaks the silence, but he doesn't bring the Rocky topic again, but one I also avoid, Christmas.

“It’s almost Christmas. Do you have plans?”

My eyes meet his. I never met someone with such pretty eyes as Duff. They are so hypnotizing and I can't get enough from them.

“Not really, but I'll probably work.”

“Are you really going to work on Christmas? What about your folks? Aren't you going to spend with them?”

Three questions in a row, which two of them I rather not talk about it. It's not his fault, he doesn't know. I haven't told him yet about the past, I don't think I ever will.

What's the point of talking about the past? It's back there, we can't​ change it. It's a waste of time.

“Someone has to serve the lonely drunk men without a family their beer or scotch on Christmas, am I right?” I try to turn the subject a bit lighter with a chuckle, but Duff doesn't seem happy with my answer. “And you? Are you going to Seattle on Christmas?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I'm spending with the guys here.”

“That's cool.” I nod.

“You should spend Christmas with us.”

“I don't wanna bother.”

“You don't, please say yes.”

“I'll think about it.” That's all I say. Our conversation is interrupted by Vicky who brings us our meal.