All Your Fates (Currently editing/updating)

Chapter 4: You Gotta Know when to Hold them

"You're looking well, David," Atticus jibed. The bastard.

I gave a curt nod to that and let the sting of the barb roll down my back. Poker face, remember.

"Have you ordered?" he asked.

I simply shook my head no, sensing he might realize that my not ordering food gave away yet more of my financial position than I had planned to reveal.

Atticus raised the menu up so I could no longer see his face. I smiled softly to myself when I realized he also was careful not to reveal any human weakness at having to squint at the words or put on his glasses at the risk of emphasizing his aging and bleary eyes. Same proud old bastard as ever.

I glanced down at my menu and tried not to faint at the sight of food. You ever get so hungry you can't even begin to order? The easiest thing would have been for me to ask for the largest or most expensive thing on the menu but I couldn't reveal more of my desperate situation than necessary or Atticus would easily have the upper hand.

"I dunno..." I drawled to the waitress when she suddenly appeared beside me, "I'm not all that hungry, what do you recommend?"

When the waitress suggested a salad, I realized I had clearly overshot. I listened thoughtfully to her options, and then countered: "Hmmm....sounds great, I'll have the Bru's Special Salad...can I also get a Dwight's Special Fried Chicken? Does that come with a waffle??"

The waitress nodded while scribbling my order down, "So that's a salad on the side, I take it?"

"Well, wait...what are my options again? It comes as a side..."

"And as its own standalone meal," she said.

"I'll take the second option, thanks. With Dwight's Chicken," I confirmed, then nonchalantly noted to Atticus: "I'm trying to increase my fiber uptake."

If Atticus noticed the quivering hunger in my lips, he revealed nothing. Atticus merely sipped at his coffee and then pointed a fat thumb at an entree on the menu for the waitress to write down.

As the waitress sauntered away, I called out after her: "And can I get an order of roasted red potatoes with that?"

"More fiber, I take it" Atticus's beady clouded glaucoma blue eyes crinkled up in a smile.

I simply shrugged, and then steadied a hand on my knee under the table, forcing my foot to stop tapping impatiently for the waitress to break out into a sprint and order my food already.

Atticus sipped his coffee and said no more. I stared up at the ceiling and waited. I wasn't going to let him off that easy.

Moments passed. Then minutes. I closed my eyes and listened to the clatter of the diners all around me.

"Tired, David?" Atticus finally prodded after some time.

"Nope," I said popping the P in emphasis.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied and then nothing further. I was glad my eyes were closed so he couldn't see me roll them. He never had shown any concern for my sleep when I was burning the midnight oil for him while taking on a full course load to boot.

More moments passed and then finally I gave in, as I knew he knew I would. "What. Do. You. Want. Atticus," I clipped.

"Don't be like that, David. Can't you let bygones be bygones," Atticus purred like the fat cat he was.

"Bygones be bygones?" I muttered, "You destroyed my future!"

"Stop being so dramatic!"

"I got kicked out of school because of you! With three months left to graduation!"