Friday came and it was all about the big game. Most of the classes that day were spent, not in study, but in talks about the game and its outcome. The last classes of the day were cut short, and an hour before the game even begun the stands were already filling up. When David showed up for detention, he found a note on the classroom door from Mr. Bailey saying it had been canceled, but that it would still count as a detention. David, who was certainly not going to see a game he didn't care about, with people he cared less for, suddenly had the whole evening free.

He made his way out to Ernie's Diner out on the highway, exactly halfway between Ulysses, his town, and Grant's Pass, the neighboring one. Inside was unremarkable, as diners go: opposite the door was the counter, lined with stools; on the side of the door four booths sat under large, grainy windows; the floor was covered with easy to clean linoleum. But it was bright and welcoming, with yellow everywhere, from curtains to tabletops and the booth upholstery. Yellow flowers in small vases sat on every table. In the middle of the afternoon, it was about half full, with truckers and people passing through both towns.

David nodded to Ernie behind the counter, who waved, and made his way to the back, where he strapped on an apron. The diner emptied after the dinner hour, leaving, beside David, a trucker asleep in a booth, his hat pulled over his eyes and arms crossed over his chest, and Nancy, Ernie's wife and proprietress. Ernie, the proprietor, had left to go to the game, along with the whole town.

"Hey, hun," Nancy said, stooping to look through the serving window into the kitchen. She was a tall woman in her sixties, with bouncy brown wavy hair, now swept up in a bun, and large blue eyes surrounded by a halo of laugh lines. In her youth she used to be a car model, and her good looks still showed through her age. "You go ahead and leave when you're done."

"That's okay," David said, as he mopped the kitchen floor. "I'll stay."

She smiled the smile of someone who knew why he would choose to stay and didn't need to ask. "Okay, hun. I'm going to start wiping down the booths."

David continued to mop, circling the small kitchen. He had moved on to scraping the grill when he heard the little bell over the door jingle and Nancy's welcoming voice.

"Evening, hun," she said. "Well, you didn't have to get all dressed up for me, but I sure appreciate it."

There was a laugh, and an amused—and familiar—male voice responded. "It's all yours. My date canceled on me."

"Handsome guy like you? I don't believe it."

"She wanted to go to the big game in Ulysses."

"Okay, now I believe it."

The voice laughed again. "Sad, isn't it?"

"Don't take it personally, hun," Nancy said, and there was the sound of pouring coffee. "It's like a religion with the folks around here."

"More like a national holiday. Everywhere else is closed. Am I lucky enough to find your kitchen open?"

As they spoke David set his scrapper down and, keeping out of sight, moved towards the serving window. Peeping out into the dining area, he saw, sitting at the counter, Jason Travis, dressed in a black peacoat with his brown hair glossy and brushed straight back.

"You're lucky enough to find it not only open, but the sub who's a better cook than my husband," Nancy said.

"Really?" Jason said, flicking a glance towards the window.

David ducked quickly out of sight, crouching on the floor, heart beating fast.

"Really," Nancy said. "What'll you have?"

Jason looked at her, glanced at the window, then back to her. David had not been quick enough; Jason had glimpsed the familiar darkly dressed figure.

"Someone like that," Jason said, "I have to meet."

"You sure do." Turning, Nancy pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, calling out as she did, "David, come out and meet—what on earth are you doing, child?"

For the young man had removed his gloves and was bending down to fix his hair in the reflection off the toaster. A smile stretched her lips. "Ahh," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "You know him. And you like him, too."

"He works at my school," David said, picking at his fringe. "And he's nice to me. That's all."

"Sometimes that's all it takes," she said in a low voice to herself. A light frown drew her brows together. "Is he a teacher?"

"No. He's a recruiter, for the army."

"Hm." She said nothing more. She understood the appeal, especially to a boy like David, but she would still keep an eye on things.

David, content with his hair, moved to leave the kitchen. She stopped him at the door. "Apron," she said, nodding at him.

David glanced down, quickly undid the ties behind his back. "Thanks," he said quietly, then pushed out through the door.

Jason propped his chin in his palm and smiled. "Evening."

"Hey," David said.

"I thought you'd be at the game with your friends."

"I don't have friends."

"That's kind of sad."

"I'm fine."

"What about those kids you hang out with during lunch?"

David glanced at him. "What about them?"

"Aren't they your friends?"

"No."

"Do they know that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then."

"You ask a lot of questions."

"That's how you get to know someone. Have a conversation."

"Why do you want to get to know me?"

"If you'd rather sit here in absolute silence, I have no problem with that."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?"

"No. And I've answered more than enough of yours to earn one."

Jason could not help the bubble of laughter that came out of him. Nodding, he replied, "That's true. You have." He looked at David, long enough to make the boy begin to squirm.

David glanced up into twinkling brown eyes and the slight dimples around smiling lips. "What?" David asked.

Jason's smile widened. "Nothing. My answer to your question is, because you're interesting, David. You don't give the answers I expect you to."

"Neither do you." David thought for a moment. "Is that a good thing?"

Jason smiled at him. "You tell me. You're the one asking the questions now."

David's dark eyes narrowed slightly, then looked away. "You're...strange."

Jason laughed. "I've been called worse."

"So have I." It was a flippant answer, but David was surprised at how serious it made the other man. The smile vanished from his lips and his eyes, replaced with a care David had not seen in a long time. It made him shift from one leg to the other and fidget with the rag on the counter. "Are you going to order something, or just make conversation all night?" he asked.

Jason smiled. "I'm starving, but I'm not picky. What can you make?"

"Little bit of everything." David hesitated. "But I prefer making breakfast foods."

Nancy, who had moved discreetly away, glanced up at the boy. She's never heard him volunteer information about himself to anyone before, much less a preference.

"That sounds perfect," Jason said. "I'll take the chefs special. Actually, can I help?"

David blinked, taken aback. "You'll, um, get your clothes dirty."

"That's what aprons are for. Besides, I'm really curious to see you in the kitchen."

David looked at the smiling face, then glanced up at Nancy, who smiled and nodded her permission. "Okay," he said. "I guess."

Jason hopped off his stool and shrugged out of his coat; underneath he wore a dark blue shirt open at the collar and tucked into dark wash jeans. Tossing the coat on a stool, he bounded around the counter to follow David through the swinging door and into the kitchen. David gave him an apron and tied one around himself. "You can crack the eggs," he said.

"Cool. How many?"

"How many do you want?"

Jason paused, egg in his hand hovering over the bowl. "Four," he finally said.

"Then crack four."

Jason did, and afterwards whisked them as David added seasonings and heated up the frying pan.

"Do your parents not mind," Jason asked as they worked, "you being out here all on your own?"

"I don't know." Jason frowned, and David added, "I don't know anything they feel. They stopped talking to me years ago."

"Oh." Jason whisked silently. "That must be hard."

David gave a one shoulder shrug.

"Why did you stay then?"

David glanced at him, then away, and began chopping chives. "I don't know."

Jason set the bowl down and picked up a potato. "Liar," he said. David looked at him, and he smiled. "It's fine, that was probably a little too personal." He tossed the potato in the air and caught it. "Let's talk about graduation instead."

David sighed. "Whose?"

"Well, it's certainly not mine."

"Have you been talking to Mr. Baily?"

"I may have overheard a conversation here and there."

David shook his head. "I said I'd think about it, but it's too late."

"It's never too late," Jason said, holding the potato very close to his face to peel it. "Especially at your age. When I was sixteen—"

"Seventeen," David interjected quickly.

"Hm?"

"I missed half a year when I was fourteen and had to repeat sophomore year."

"Oh. Okay. Well, still, when I was sixteen, I was in juvie."

David's chopping ceased as he looked up. "You were arrested? What for?"

"Be shorter to list what not for," Jason said with a laugh. "My point is, that felt like the end for me, but it wasn't. Now look at me: stood up for a date and peeling potatoes in a diner."

David stifled a laugh in his wrist.

Jason glanced at him and smiled. "You know what I mean. I'm the last person to lecture you about your future; most people can't plan theirs out when they're seventeen. I, and probably Mr. Baily too, just want you to know you still have a future."

David looked at him, then away. "You're peeling off too much," he said.

"Oh, shi—"

David turned away, a smile lingering on his lips as Jason bemoaned his butchered potato.