After a long beat, Sir Hiss finally got that we thought he was being weirdly attentive and he snapped out of staring at us. “And what a bee-yoo-tiful bunch of do-gooding kids. Real upstanding citizen material. Your parents must be proud.”
“What makes you think we’re do-gooding?” Digby said.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sir Hiss said. “I guess that’s just something people say.” He reached into his pocket for some money. “You sure I can’t pay you?”
Henry and Jorge came out of the kitchen and joined us. “On the house, man,” Henry said.
“Oh . . . that’s mighty nice . . .” Sir Hiss slid a bill across the counter toward Sloane and said, “But here’s a little something for you. Add it to your college fund.”
Sloane looked confused and didn’t touch the money. “It’s a five.”
“She’s new.” Henry picked up the bill and tucked it into Sloane’s apron. “What she means is thank you and good night.”
Sir Hiss tipped the brim of an imaginary hat and walked away. Henry locked the front door after Jorge and Sir Hiss walked out.
“That was weird,” I said.
“We get a lot of ex-cons coming here straight after they’re released,” Henry said. “I had one guy tell me that our steak’s a popular get out of jail meal.”
“What did that guy have?” I said.
“Coffee,” Sloane said. “Just coffee.”
“He seemed super grateful for getting just free coffee,” I said. “Not normal, right?”
Digby looked lost in a thought and only muttered, “Why did that guy look so familiar?”
“So the frat guys were ungrateful but this guy was too grateful?” Henry said. “You two might not have much of a future in the restaurant business.”
“You might not have much of a future in the restaurant business,” Sloane said. “I mean, seriously, once you graduate college, are you even going to work here? Work a diner after you play college football . . . maybe even play in the NFL—”
Henry knocked on the counter, covered his ears, and hummed “America the Beautiful.” “Don’t jinx it, Sloane,” Henry said. “I don’t want to think that far ahead right now. We don’t even know if we have a season come fall.”
“Do the guys on your team know what to do?” Digby said.
“Yeah . . . Principal Granger told us about the plan to just let the lawyers appeal the positive drug tests until the steroids work their way out of the guys’ systems,” Henry said. “I told them to double the mileage on their runs for the next month to sweat that crap out faster.”
“That won’t work,” Felix said. “Their bodies won’t metabolize the drugs any faster.”
“I know that and you know that but those guys don’t know that,” Henry said. “But now they can run eight miles a day and meditate on why they should just say no to drugs.” Henry thought for a long second and then said, “There’s something twisted about that guy. Principal Granger, I mean.”
Digby grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, there is. But stick to the story and you’ll have a season. Just promise me that when you’re up in the bigs, you’ll speak out against kids putting this steroid junk in their bodies?”
“That’s the plan,” Henry said. “Okay, now, what’s up with you guys? When Felix said . . . did he mean . . .”
Digby nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s research. We took it today.”
“Whoa,” Sloane said. “So that’s . . .”
“Treason,” Felix said. “Yup. I betrayed my country. And I feel like I betrayed my parents.”
“Because you did. And I made you do it for me,” Digby said. “Now we both have to live with that. And Henry. Remember when you asked me the other day if you should worry about Silk or Coach or whoever else they were working with coming after you and I said, Relax, these guys aren’t the mafia?” When Henry nodded, Digby said, “Well, the truth is you can’t ever say never and you’ll always wonder and be a little paranoid. You’ll have to live with that too.”
I put my hand on Digby’s arm. “You’re starting to scare people.”
Henry sighed. “No, he’s right. It’d almost be better if he just came after me and we could get it done already.”
“‘Get it done already’? Yikes,” I said. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Yeah, look at Felix,” Digby said. “He became the soccer team’s manager to be more social and . . . what did you say to me last night, Felix?”
“That job is destroying my life,” Felix said.
“Why?” Henry said. “Isn’t it scheduling and budget and all that stuff you like?”
Felix said, “It’s those girls. I can’t take them anymore.”
“Oh, the virgin thing?” Sloane said. “They’re still teasing you about that? Get a new joke already.”
“They have a pool going to see who gets to do it with me first,” Felix said.
“Those girls are just kidding, Felix,” Sloane said.
“Wait a second, though. Hold on,” I said. “Would we say that to a girl? If she had an entire team joking about having sex with her?”
“That’s different,” Sloane said. And then she looked less sure. “Isn’t it?”
“Uh-oh . . . we are too tired to go down this hole tonight,” Digby said.
“Is this the erection argument? That it’d be physically impossible to ‘make me’?” Felix said. “Because there are ways around that. I heard them talking. Why do you think they were trying to pickle me with all that tequila?”
“Just tell them to stop,” Henry said. “Say you’re not interested.”
Felix looked at Sloane and me and said, “Does that work?”
“Yes, Henry. Does that work?” Sloane said. “And if just saying ‘not interested’ does work, then should I assume that I found Maisie doing Pilates on your lap because you didn’t tell her you aren’t interested?”
“I’m out,” Henry said to Felix.
“Seriously, Felix. This keeps coming up with you. You need to learn to say no to people,” I said. “Same thing with your parents and the apartment. You need to tell them not to buy that apartment.”
Felix looked at me, super nervous.
“What apartment?” Sloane said.
“Felix’s parents are buying a place in Boston so they can live with him when he starts college,” I said.
“Boston?” Sloane said. “Why Boston?”
“Well, MIT,” Felix said. “Or, if something goes horribly wrong, Harvard’s my backup.”
I mean, it was a fact that Felix was smart enough to consider Harvard his safety school but it was still quite a thing to hear.
Sloane put her hand on her chest and inhaled sharply. “I think I finally understand what it’s like for normal people when I tell them what I pay for my clothes,” she said.
“Anyway,” I said. “I’m serious, Felix. The bullies, these girls, your parents . . . you don’t want to be doing this your whole life. You really just have to tell them no.” He still looked unconvinced. “Felix, you straight-up defibbed a dude with a gun. In the face. What can still scare you after you’ve done that?”
“My mom is not going to take it well,” Felix said.
“Oh, come on. You’re doing a start-up security company. It’s not like you’re quitting school to . . .” I struggled to find a ridiculous example but couldn’t. In frustration I flailed my arms and knocked a dirty soup ladle out of its spoon rest and onto Digby’s jacket, where it left a huge smear before hitting the floor. “Oh, no . . .”
“It’s okay. I’ll be back,” Digby said. And then, out of nowhere, he kissed me. “We did it, Princeton.” He gave me one of his rarely seen unironic smiles and went into the kitchen.
NINETEEN
I was feeling a little embarrassed about the unexpected PDA when I turned back to face Henry and Felix, but whatever
shyness I felt was replaced by confusion when I saw them staring at me, unsmiling. Henry looked downright angry at me.
“What?” I said.
“Be careful with Digby,” Henry said.
“Yes,” Felix said. “Don’t screw him up even more.”
“I don’t believe this. After all the crap he’s put me through, I’m the one getting the warning?” I said.
“Because you’re leaving this summer,” Henry said. “You started up with Digby when you know you won’t even be here that much longer?”
“That is kind of messed up,” Sloane said.
“I haven’t even decided if I’m going yet,” I said.
All three of them said, “Of course you’re going.”
“Why are you still pretending you aren’t?” Sloane said.
“Digby has liked you for so long that he doesn’t care how bad he’s going to feel when you leave,” Henry said.
Felix pointed his finger at me. “But we care. So, please. Be. Careful.”
I wasn’t the only one who noticed Felix’s weird intensity, because Henry said, “Felix, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I know you’re worried about Digby but . . .” I said. “That was kind of next level.”
“So you guys aren’t fighting anymore?” Sloane said.
“Fighting?” I said. “Oh, you mean that Bill thing? Yeah, Digby and I worked it out . . . I guess. It still bothers me that I let Bill get to me, though. I feel like she might’ve won that one.”
“You think Bill won?” Sloane snorted. “People have finally realized she’s just a user and everyone’s ditching her. What’s she going to write about now?”
Digby walked out of the kitchen, still wiping his jacket. It took him a second to notice the weird vibe in the room and when he did, he said, “Now what?”
We all said, “Nothing.”
Digby said, “Well, obviously nothing’s up.”
And then Felix slumped facedown onto the counter.
“Felix?” Digby said. “Are you all right?”
Felix stayed facedown in his folded arms but gave us the thumbs-up.
“Are you sure, buddy?” Digby said. “Can I get you anything?”
And then I realized. “Oh . . .” I said. The agitation, the sudden bursts of hostility, the sweatiness . . . “Do you think it’s the coffee?”
“Should’ve stuck to your rule, man. ‘If it’s brown, turn it down’?” Digby said. “You’re a Sprite man for a reason.”
“I think you’re having a caffeine crash, Felix,” I said.
Felix straightened up and took his pulse. “Hm. I’m exhausted and I feel worthless and unbelievably sad.”
“Sounds about right,” I said. “You need more coffee.”
“So, the answer is more coffee?” Felix said.
“Always the answer,” Sloane said.
“I think I’m starting to understand the Starbucks business model,” Felix said.
“That’s why I never touch the stuff,” Henry said. When he saw me starting to pour Felix a cup, he said, “No. No, no, no. Don’t do that. What he needs is a nap.” Henry gestured at Felix and said, “Come with me, man. You can nap on the couch in my dad’s office.”
“Is that the famous Petropoulos family couch?” Digby said.
“Famous?” Felix said. “Why famous?”
“The Petropouloses have eight kids but they work in this diner basically nonstop. Where do you think all the magic happens?” Digby said.
“What?” Felix said.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” Henry said. “The magic happens in the old-fashioned way. In a bed, in the dark—”
“After they say their prayers?” Digby said.
Henry put his arm around Felix and said, “Ignore him. Digby’s just being a jackass as usual.”
“A nap does sound good,” Felix said.
Henry and Felix went into the back.
Sloane waited until the door to the kitchen swung shut behind them before she said, “I am this close to just burning this place down.” She made a condescending pointing motion at the counter. “This is not going to be my life.”
“Then you are going to have a problem, my friend, because Henry loves this.” I mimicked her condescending pointing motion.
“That’s what I mean. He’d never quit,” Sloane said. “But all I need is a match.”
Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the front door’s glass. We all turned to see Sir Hiss standing outside. When he saw us looking, he yelled, “I need to get something I left behind.”
Sloane smirked at me. “Maybe he’s back for his five dollars.” She hopped off her barstool and said, “I’ll get it.” She took Henry’s keys from the register and walked to the front. Sloane unlocked the door, saying, “Sorry. We’re closed, so you’ll have to make it quick—”
Digby and I couldn’t see exactly what was going on because Sloane was standing at an angle that completely eclipsed our view of Sir Hiss, but the way she suddenly froze in her tracks and put her hands in the air told the whole story anyway.
Sir Hiss came in, pushing along Sloane in front of him until he’d corralled the three of us behind the counter. I guess we’d all been staring at the knife in his hand because Sir Hiss said, “You’re all thinking . . . probably only one of us will get stabbed before some other one of us gets that knife away from him and you’d be right . . . except . . .”
The kitchen door swung open and Silk came out holding a gun. “I’m baaack.” He pointed the gun at us. “Did you miss me?”
Sloane stepped closer to me when Silk leered at her.
“What’s the plan, Silk?” Digby said. “A little fun before leaving town? I’m sure they won’t look long for a two-bit drug dealer but they’ll never stop if you add five counts of murder to your hot sheet.”
Silk turned his gun to Digby. “Maybe I just kill you, then.”
“Hey,” Sir Hiss said to Silk. “You need to focus.”
Angry that Digby had obviously shaken him, Silk said, “I ain’t afraid of jail. All my friends are there.”
“Oh, yeah? Your partner looks a lot less excited about the prospect.” Digby turned to Sir Hiss. “And how long before the money runs out? What’s the split?”
Sir Hiss’s smile dropped. “What money?” Sir Hiss walked toward Silk. “You didn’t say anything about this place having any money.”
“I didn’t know about any money,” Silk said. “Where’s this money?” He poked Digby with the gun.
“Don’t you remember what I’ve been telling you about planning? Stick to the plan,” Sir Hiss said. “Anyway, the kid’s probably lying. Look at this place. How much money can they have here?”
Digby smirked at Silk and said, “I know for a fact that they put at least ten grand in the safe this afternoon because their meat supplier only takes cash.”
“You see what he’s doing?” Sir Hiss said. “Ask yourself why he’s being so helpful. What’s he up to?”
“We sure could use that money,” Silk said.
“Let them go and I’ll open the safe,” Digby said.
“Don’t do it,” Sir Hiss said.
“We need it. You can open the safe?” When Digby nodded, Silk said, “Come on.”
I was frightened, no doubt about it. But when I saw Digby had on his bored face, I was filled with the totally irrational and completely unjustifiable feeling that everything was going to be all right.
“Hey, Princeton,” Digby said. “You’ll be all right here?” When I nodded, he said, “Remember, Princeton. Safety first. Don’t do anything I would do.” And then he let Silk push him through the doors into the kitchen.
What would he do?
Safety first. Felix had said that. What else had he said? The metal polish on the rags? No. The leaking soda machine? No. Maybe? But I
didn’t know how. The frayed wire. Yes. How? It plugged into the register. The register full of money. Yes. That’s what he’d do.
Sir Hiss opened up the pie display and gouged out a handful of cherry filling with his fingers.
“Do you want a plate for that?” Sloane said. I had to give her credit. Even under stress, she was 100 percent Sloane.
Sir Hiss glared at us. “Say what?”
“Look. You should just know now . . . neither of us knows how to open the register,” I said.
Sir Hiss turned to the register and thumped on the open button a few times. “It’s not plugged in,” he said. He pointed at me and said, “Plug it in.”
As I edged toward the plug, I thought about everything that had to happen in the next couple of seconds. I plugged it in and just as I thought he would, Sir Hiss opened up the register and immediately got caught up in the task of emptying the cash from the drawers.
What I hadn’t foreseen, though, was how far he would be from the part of the wire that was exposed. But then he started rummaging around under the register, muttering, “Where’s the cash drop box . . . ?” and I knew I had to get ready to take the chance that was starting to open up. For a moment, I worried that maybe not all metal could conduct electricity but when Sir Hiss put down his pie and put his hand on the counter so he could dip down low for a look, I decided the best way to find out was to just do it.
I touched the sparking wire to the metal banding that skirted the diner’s lunch counter. At first, it wasn’t clear that anything at all was happening. Sir Hiss jerked up from his crouch and stood poker straight, gripping the counter in front of him with both hands, and looking straight ahead with a grimace. But after a few more seconds of watching him frozen like that, I noticed the steam rising from the soaked canvas of his shoes and the puddle of soda machine leakage that had pooled around his feet.
And then, finally, the register itself started to smoke and sizzle, and with a loud pop, the spell was broken. Sir Hiss slammed face-first into the register’s keyboard before slumping down onto the floor in a heap.
“Is he . . . ?” Sloane said.
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