The Beginning of Everything(29)

The conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon, so I sat down on the bench and flicked through a copy of Rolling Stone someone had left, wishing she’d just learn how to text.

“Yeah, I got, like, loafers or something . . . with rubber bottoms, I remembered that part . . . I don’t know, sort of red brown.”

I sighed, wishing she’d lose interest.

“Mom,” I said forcefully. “Everyone’s waiting, I have to go . . . Yeah, I’ll be home before nine. Okay . . . okay, bye.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said when I got back to our table in the café.

“I didn’t say anything.” Toby grinned broadly.

“Your silence is judging me.”

“That’s probably true,” Toby admitted.

We walked across the parking lot to In-N-Out Burger, which doesn’t technically count as fast food, since you have to wait for it.

“Do you know about their secret menu?” Toby asked Cassidy. “Because you can order all sorts of things. Root beer floats, animal-style fries . . .”

“Obviously.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “I have lived in California before.”

“No! Really?” Toby mocked.

“Well, do you know about the palm trees?” I asked.

Both of them stared at me. I grinned.

“There are two palm trees planted in an X outside of all the In-N-Outs,” I said. “It’s from some old movie the owner liked, because in the film a treasure was buried there.”

“That’s terrible,” Cassidy said. “Pretending a fast-food place is a buried treasure.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s cool. Most people don’t know about it, but when you do, you look for the X every time you drive past an In-N-Out.”

“Like IHOP,” Toby said. “My cousins call it ‘dohi,’ since that’s IHOP upside down. It gets in your head. You’ll just see an upside-down dohi sign next time you pass one, trust me.”

Immediately, I thought of the hydrocarbon chains in organic chemistry; the same thing upside down, and how knowing to look for it changes your whole perspective. I almost mentioned it, since Cassidy would know what I was talking about, but I didn’t. Not because they’d think I was weird, or nerdy, but because the moment was so perfect that it just didn’t need anything else.



“DUDE,” TOBY WHISPERED as we took our order receipt. “Did you know that Justin Wong worked here?”

I shrugged. “Must pay well.”

Justin was in my math class. He was a pretty forgettable guy, except for his car—this ridiculously souped-up Honda, the kind kids at school referred to as a rice rocket.

We were filling our drinks from the soda machine when I first heard it: a familiar peal of laughter. My shoulders stiffened.

“Oh, kill me.” Toby leaned against the soda machine, staring at them.

Sure enough: Charlotte, Evan, and Jimmy were in the good corner booth, the big one by the windows, where we always used to sit when we came here.

“Do you think we should just get it to go?” Toby muttered.

“Go where?” I asked. “There can never be burgers in my car, because then my car will smell like burgers, and trust me, that’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

“We could put them in the trunk,” Toby suggested desperately.

“I’m not eating a burger that’s been in anyone’s trunk,” Cassidy said.

“We could eat them in the parking lot,” Toby said.

“Because that isn’t obvious.” I rolled my eyes. “They’re sitting right by the window.”

We clustered around the ketchup pump, eyeing the table. They’d just gotten their food and clearly weren’t planning to leave anytime soon.

One of the In-N-Out employees, some kid from a different school, dropped off three more burgers and fries at their table.

“Hey, Ezra?” Justin Wong called. “I had Angelo bring your food over to your table.”

I stared at Justin, not comprehending. And then I realized: those burgers were ours.

“Awesome,” I said hollowly. “Thanks.”

“Shit stickers,” Toby swore softly.

“Well, come on.” I said it as though we were standing outside of the funeral service and might as well go in.

“Oh good, you mean I get to hang out with your old friends?” Cassidy grinned hugely.

“Be nice,” I warned.

“You’d think I brushed my teeth and sharpened my tongue every morning, the way he goes on,” Cassidy complained.

“More like brushed your teeth and dulled your wit,” said Toby.



IT WAS EVAN who spotted us first. His surfer’s baritone carried across the restaurant as he raised his soft drink in the air like some sort of toast and called, “Yo, Faulkner! Get your gimp ass over here!”

“Hey,” I said sheepishly as we shuffled toward the table. “What’s going on?”

“Just chillin’,” Evan said.

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. He was eating a 4 x 4 Animal Style, a gooey, thick stack of meat patties oozing sauce. There was another identical burger on his tray, because apparently one wasn’t enough. He took a bite, and it reminded me of this video I’d seen on YouTube of a mountain lion devouring a gazelle.