Page 40 of All That Glitters

“I don’t know, his wife sent me a—”

“Graduation card!” I interject. When I got it, my first instinct was to grab my phone to call Jameson. “Me too. But since it was from her, it didn’t feel like a big gesture to me.”

“We never met his wife. I think Amos wanted to send us something but didn’t want it to look like he cared that much.”

I scrunch my nose at his explanation. “Maybe you’re right, but it’s hard to believe he’d want to do that after years of us wasting so much of his time.”

We used to treat the diner like a coffee shop and work there for hours. We tipped well—as well as we could being high school students—but I can’t imagine Amos appreciated us taking up one of his tables for half a shift.

“There was also that time he brought out ice cream floats when we’d had that awful math test,” Jameson recalls.

“He brought out Grapico floats,” I say, my face screwing up at the memory. “We always got Coke floats, so he knew that wasn’t our favorite.”

“I’m telling you, he was being nice but not too nice,” Jameson tries to convince me. “Besides, you got him back for his choice.”

“All I did was kindly tell him that Grapico tastes like grape Benadryl and isn’t safe for human consumption.”

“After he told you it was his childhood favorite.”

We laugh in unison. My chest feels like the weight that’s been crushing it has been lifted. Deep down I know it’s hovering, waiting to land on me again, but for now, I take my first full breath of air in months with a smile.

“I thought he was going to force me to drink it like medicine,” I say through my laughter. “I was so glad when he took them away.”

“No, he took yours away. I never complained, so he left mine, and I had to choke it down so that he wouldn’t be offended.”

I fall into another fit of laughter.

“I forgot about that! You would chug it, then eat a bunch of fries to try and kill the taste. I thought you were going to throw up.”

Jameson shakes his head, beaming in that rare way I adore.

“I thought I was too. It was awful.”

I swipe at a stray tear beneath my eye.

“It was fantastic. Made that math test disappear from my mind.”

Our laughter softens. I take another sip of coffee, hiding my grin behind a mug. Jameson’s eyes are crinkled at the edges. The sight makes my chest ache with longing for more of this. More of him.

Stop it. Think of all that you’ve lost. All that you could lose.

“We should visit some time soon,” he suggests. “See how Amos reacts.”

My smile fades.

“I, uh, think I should get going,” I say instead of replying.

My coffee mug clinks on the faded tabletop. Worry sweeps away Jameson’s joyful expression.

“Did I say something wrong?”

I force a smile and shake my head.

“I just have a lot of homework to do. And my roommates are probably wondering where I am. Can you pay and I’ll send you my share later?” I ask as I slide out of the booth and grab my messenger bag.

“Goldie, hang on a second—”

I head to the door, lifting my hand in a quick wave to Sue, who’s wiping down the countertop that has a train going down the center of it. She waves back, though her expression is confused. I push out of the diner, the bell ringing with my exit. Freezing cold rain is coming down in sheets, and I gasp at the shocking chill.