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Chapter One

"Hey, Clara, that waiter behind the counter seems to be checking you out," Emma teases, staring over my shoulder at the diner's counter. 

I flick my honey blonde hair back and look over my shoulder, making eye contact with the waiter, "I think you mean my boyfriend?"

Sam winks at me, then turns to finish putting away the milkshake glasses on the pastel pink shelf. The entire diner is decorated in pastel pink and pistachio green, creating a cute vintage effect that extends to the staff's uniforms - something that Sam hates more than anything. 

Emma sighs, "Oh, yeah. Can we share him?"

I swat my hand at her as Sam strolls over, "Can I get you ladies something to eat or are you just going to sit here staring at me all evening?"

"Can we get a large serving of fries, please?" I ask. 

"With bacon bits," Emma adds, and I nod, looking up at Sam.

He chuckles, writing down our order on his notepad, "With two milkshakes, right? Strawberry and chocolate."

I nod again and Sam rolls his eyes, "You do realise that we can make other things off the menu?"

I laugh, "But what would be the point of having a boyfriend who's a waiter if I can't order the same thing every single time and force you to remember it?"

"And I love your regularity," Sam concedes, leaning down to kiss me gently, "But I think Gus in the kitchen would prefer a little variety."

I nod my head to concede the point - Emma and I have had the same thing at the diner throughout the entirety of high school and we weren't going to stop when we graduated. 

Emma waits until Sam is back behind the counter, hanging up our order ticket, to squeal, "You guys are so cute!"

I push her hand off, "You have a boyfriend and you guys are equally cute together. However, it would be nice if your boyfriend had better hobbies that didn't involve me freezing my butt off every Friday night last year."

She only tosses her chestnut coloured hair back and whispers, "You know that his butt looks good at the games though. And that makes it all worth it."

I groan, "Stop talking about your boyfriend's butt."

"You sound so British when you talk like that!" Charlotte giggles. 

"I don't sound 'British'," I protest, making air quotes, "I sound English. Besides, my dad would kill you for lumping the Scottish in with the English."

My dad, Alexander Gordon, is extremely proud of his Scottish identity and is horrified every time we talk on the phone. When I was younger, he still hoped that I would develop a Scottish accent like his, rather than an English accent like Mum's. 

Sam breaks me out of my reverie by setting down a tray with our milkshakes on in front of us. He hands  Emma her strawberry one, winking conspiratorially as he declares, "Don't you know that Clara's accent is English, not British by now!"

I shove at his shoulder as he keeps my chocolate milkshake just out of reach, "Shut up, you know that I don't bring it up that much! Now give me my drink!"

He slides the milkshake over to me and kisses my cheek. I barge him with my shoulder and take a large sip of my milkshake instead. 

"Have you told him yet?" Emma leans in to hiss, as Sam retreats behind the counter, "About Edinburgh?"

"No," I murmur back, "He knows that this is casual, just for the summer."

"Are you sure about that? Because he's starting to look at you like he loves you," She says knowledgeably, stealing a bit of my drink.

I slap her hands away, twirling the straw around in my drink, "He doesn't look at me like that. He knew when we started this that we would both be going away to college and that it wouldn't last."

Sam and I have been hanging out together for the two and a half months since I graduated from high school and he got a summer job at the diner. It started with him waving off my attempts to pay for Charlotte's and my fries, before he asked me to go with him to a party on the beach. That, in turn, ended with us making out in the cab of his pickup truck, which we've continued to do at the end of each of his shifts this summer. It's never been more than just us messing around together. 

"Of course he loves you. He thinks that you will be able to work it out doing the long-distance thing because he doesn't know that you'll be moving four thousand miles away to somewhere that he can't even get a direct flight to!" Emma whispers, her voice rising with warning.

I stare into my milkshake, swirling it around with the straw, "There's nothing I can do to change it. I've been planning to go to Edinburgh for university since I was seven and I can't change my application now."

"It doesn't change the fact that you will break that poor guy's heart when you go," Emma points out, "And you will also break my heart because you will be so far away!"

"I'm just as far away from you as I would have been if I'd gone to Berkeley," I clarify, pointing a finger at her, "And that's your fault for going all the way to NYU."

Emma sits back as Sam slides our large plate of fries in between us, "What are you girls talking about?"

"Nothing," I say, shooting a pointed look at Emma.