Chapter Text
The sizzling pops of hot grease fizzled from the fryers as Benny dropped another batch of fries in. A beep sounds from the timer on the wall, Hattie reaches over, popping the small black button to make it stop.
“Mind grabbing that for me,” Benny grumbles, jerking his head towards the other fryer.
Hattie wordlessly grabs a towel from the counter, wraps it around the black handle, and pulls the metal grate out. Revealing golden, freshly-cut fries dripping and popping with grease. She throws them out on the drying rack, tosses some salt over them, and then places them carefully on a paper-covered basket.
The men are laughing when she enters the diner, tossing stories back and forth about fishing trips and days of glory. Hattie places the fries down between them. “Benny's got the coffee on.”
They cheer, tossing her smiles and good mornings. Hattie smiles back and makes her way back to the kitchen.
When she enters, Benny is turned towards the cracked coffee pot in the corner of the kitchen, cursing under his breath as he jams at buttons.
She comes over and pop its back panel, a second later, a gurgle of coffee starts spurting out.
“Thanks,” he grumbles, swiping his brow. “Useless piece of crap.”
“What, you or the coffee?” Hattie teases.
He swipes at her head, but the affection lined in the edges of his smile is plain to see. “Shouldn't you be heading off to school? Chemistry test today?”
“Thursday,” She replies. “I have plenty of time.”
He gives a small snort, heading over to the overflowing trash cans in the corner.
“I can grab it,” I say, stepping over and dragging its rim towards me. One of his buddy's calls for him through the window. Benny glances between them, and me.
“Go.” I urge. “You're paying me for this.”
He sighs, throws a stained towel over his shoulders, and heads towards the swinging doors.
Before he completely disappears, Hattie makes a weak call. “Thanks for the extra hours.”
Benny only shakes his head with a half smile. “Don't mention it.”
He disappears and reappears through the tiny window, only the sight of his dark hair being shown as he leans over and talks to one of his pals. Hattie finishes tying off the trash bag and props open the back door.
The cold November air slams into her cheeks instantly with a step outside, blowing a few loose strands of her light hair into her face and eyes.
She throws away the trash and swipes the hairs back, taking the brief moment to feel the breeze flow onto the back of her neck.
But instead of a moment of peace, a prickling sensation glides across her neck instead, almost like a hot rod burning a hole into the back of her shirt.
Hattie turns, gaze set towards the woods. Nothing is there, only the same old leaves and branches swaying in the wind.
Shrugging it off, she heads back inside. The coffee is done, so she quickly swipes some cups and brings it out.
“Saturday? How about then?” One of Benny’s pals asks, leaning back to smile at the man.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll bring the bait too. Got a favor to ask from Tony, so he should be able to lend us some half-priced crickets.”
Hattie gives the pair a smile, places down the cups, and starts pouring out the hot coffee.
The prickling sensation picks up again, causing a twitch in her brow. Hattie pauses briefly to glance over her shoulder, towards the kitchen window. But with her height, she can only see the tops of the kitchen fans as they buzz.
She decides to shake it off, again, and finishes with the coffee.
Walking back towards the kitchen with the empty pot, Hattie glances at the watch on her wrist and start to count time. If she makes it halfway on her bike to school, maybe she could catch a ride with someone from the band since they were always late as well. Then She’d be able to make it to second bell, which would save her from having to check-
Hattie pushes open the doors and immediately stops.
At the counters, hunched over a discarded basket of old fries, is a small kid in a dirty hospital gown. Eyes blown wide as they stare into Hattie’s, cheeks puffed out with halfway chewed food.
On instinct, she screams.
Benny comes rushing back, throwing open the kitchen door right as the kid starts to make a run for it. The coffee pot falls, shattering against the tiled floor and sending shards of glass everywhere.
Benny steps over the pieces and chases after the kid as they dart through the door. Hattie follows, glass crunching underneath her shoes, nearly tripping over the door frame until she falls into the back room. Where Benny has the kid squeezed in his grip.
“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” He yells, then pauses. Registering then, the fear that flashes in the kids eyes, the hospital gown draped across thin shoulders, and the bones that stick out from pale skin.
His face falls. “Who are you?”
.