Francine Witte ~ 2 AM at the Booth Bay Diner

Roy orders the fries. He knows by now that his cheapo friends, Megan, Scott, and Wendy, will eat most of them, so he makes it a dou­ble. He wish­es for once in their god­damn lives they would offer to chip in. Okay, maybe not Megan, who he hopes, like he does every oth­er night, to drop off last when he dri­ves them home in his 20-year-old Dodge Dart.

***

When the fries come, Roy will put a bou­quet of them on Megan’s plate with­out her even ask­ing. Megan is too pret­ty for Roy, and every­one knows it. She has puff dark hair and witch black eyes. A snake tat­too on her midriff dives into her low ris­ers. Roy, on the oth­er hand, is too much hair gel and fake leather jack­et. He tries to look like Scott, who is “nat­ur­al hand­some,” as Roy’s moth­er would say. Dip-hair and mus­cles, and he has been get­ting every girl that Roy has ever want­ed ever since the third grade. Roy has a bet­ter job than Scott — hotel concierge at the Best Western. Okay, he’s an intern as part of his Econ class project, but still. Scott pumps gas at his uncle’s Quicky Lube over on First Street. He doesn’t even care about col­lege or what he will do with the rest of his life.

***

The wait­ress brings the fries which are just past burnt and sog­gy with oil. They are what’s left at 2 AM and good enough for a bunch of ston­er freaks who come in every night and order fries and noth­ing else. Where are their par­ents? Don’t these kids have school? She looks at the geeky one who is always lean­ing into the one who looks like Morticia Addams. No one here to tell him that that will nev­er hap­pen. She’s wayyyy too hot for the likes of him. The oth­er guy’s not bad, the wait­ress thinks. Nice and mus­cled, even if he always smells like motor oil.

***

Megan is try­ing to fig­ure a way to not have Roy drop her off last. He is such a sad pup­py, and she knows Roy will wait to be invit­ed in. What she wants is for Wendy to be dropped off first. That way, when Roy drops off Scott, Megan could say she has to use the bath­room – can’t hold it one more minute and then she could get out of Roy’s scab­by old Dart, and hang out with Scott like she’s been want­i­ng to. Of course, Roy would ask stu­pid ques­tions like how will you get home, and do you want me to wait? Megan knows that this won’t hap­pen, but she knows she hates Roy, how he puts those fries on her plate. Like they have some kind of inti­mate bond, like it’s some kind of French Fry sex.

***

The park­ing lot is kind of a grave­yard at 2 AM. A few rusty trucks and that old Dodge clunk­er those kids dri­ve in on, prob­a­bly bought it for 50 bucks. In the glove com­part­ment is a map of the US fold­ed up wrong. The kid who owns the car, the geeky one, wants to run away so bad, quit high school so bad, become some­one oth­er than him­self so bad. Each night after he drops every­one off, espe­cial­ly that last one, the girl with trou­ble eyes who always says “no” even with­out say­ing it, he sits for a moment out­side her house. The neigh­bor­hood is a clos­ing eye all around him. He sits there in his car, opens the map, traces his fin­gers along the blue vein of roads. In the dash­board light, for just a few sec­onds, he feels like he could real­ly go somewhere.

***

Scott grabs a hand­ful of fries. His mind is tap tap tap­ping. How to tell Wendy not to keep the baby. He smiles weak­ly at Roy. I’ll get the next batch, Scott says, same as every night. Hell, Scott thinks, Roy would be home play­ing with his Game Boy if not for me. But back to Wendy, he could say how do I know the baby is mine, he could say, you’re young, you can have more. He watch­es Wendy grab a hand­ful of fries. For the small­est of sec­onds he won­ders if that is any good for the baby.

***

The fries are gone now. Only a pool of oil at the bot­tom of the bowl. The four of them lick­ing their fin­gers clean. A month from now they will grad­u­ate, all except Scott who will have over­slept the morn­ing of finals. Wendy will have bro­ken up with Scott because she found out Megan hooked up with him the night before finals. Wendy will decide to have the baby any­way, because she fig­ures a baby won’t go and sleep with your boyfriend. Megan will reluc­tant­ly agree to go out with Roy, because it didn’t work out with Scott because the motor oil smelled dif­fer­ent that close up.

***

The night after grad­u­a­tion Roy will, once again, order the fries. Single order now, since It’s just him and Megan. And it’s 9 PM, not 2 AM, and they’ve just been to a movie. Megan watch­es Roy put fries on her plate, slight­ly less than a bou­quet now. He doesn’t have to wor­ry any­more about when he drops her off. He enjoys watch­ing her long fin­gers as she pops a fry into her mouth. When the wait­ress comes, she will odd­ly under­stand how the too-hot girl is with the geeky guy. How it’s the same as when the wait­ress was young and pin­balled from bad boy to geek to bad boy. The wait­ress hopes that the geeky boy enjoys this moment before the too-hot girl gets bored and looks for her next bad boy. When the check comes, Roy will ask Megan if there’s any­thing else she would like, any­thing at all. When she shakes her head, Roy will take out his wal­let because some­body has to pay the bill.

~

Francine Witte’s flash fic­tion and poet­ry have appeared in numer­ous jour­nals. Most recent­ly, her sto­ries have been in Best Small Fictions and Flash Fiction America. Her lat­est flash fic­tion book is RADIO WATER (Roadside Press.) Her upcom­ing col­lec­tion of poet­ry, Some Distant Pin of Light is forth­com­ing from Cervena Barva Press. She lives in NYC. Visit her web­site francinewitte.com.