"I never expected there's a diner so far out here in the desert," Deen said as she gingerly sat down.

I noticed she checked if the seat and table were dirty even if she tried to be subtle about it. Disguising it as smoothening the bottom of her shorts, she lightly brushed the spot she sat on. She probably thought I was going to tease her for being a neat freak or something—and she'd be right. It was obvious this was her first time in a diner even if she was acting nonchalantly the best she could.

"Aren't diners usually in the middle of nowhere?" I jokingly said as I sat opposite her. "At least, that's where they are in movies, especially horror movies. The main characters will come along for a diner scene, maybe to learn more about the monster or to show how creepy the place is. Good thing this place is quite cozy."

"Do you mean to say we're the main characters in a movie?"

"You are." I grinned as I pointed at her. "I'm just a random extra in the crowd who won't even be included in the credits. Amber Deen Leska as Lead Female Actress, something like that will show up."

"Lead? Yeah right." She rolled her eyes. "Look at my hair. I'm blonde. I'm going to be one of the first to get murdered if this is a horror movie."

"Blonde, and beautiful, and hot," I said, ticking off my fingers. "Oh yeah, that's pretty much a sure death."

Deen scrunched her nose at me. "Hey, blonde is enough. You didn't need to add those two other things."

"But you are beautiful and hot. And that's a requirement for blondes in a horror movie."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "If we're talking about survival, you have better chances than I do."

"Do you mean the stereotypical quiet girl in the group of main characters? The one who's barely above an extra in terms of speaking roles? Hmm...they do occasionally survive from what I've seen."

"You're selling yourself too short," Deen said, lightly kicking my feet under the table. "If anything, I think you'd be the star of the show, the final girl who'd survive the monster or the serial killer or whoever is the evil villain."

"I'd probably be the monster," I said with a laugh.

Deen’s eyes widened. "Erind, don't say stuff like that," she hissed, kicking my legs again a bit stronger this time. She peered above our booth to check our surroundings. "Look, the waitress is coming. None of that talk with people around, okay?"

"I think it's really fitting diner talk." I countered, sticking my tongue at her. Diners were supposed to be the place to kick off the lore of a horror story.

It was very early in the morning, maybe two hours or so until sunrise, but there were surprisingly many customers in this place.

Three people were sitting by the bar counter, one middle-aged man reading the newspaper and two grandpas chatting over coffee. A family with kids occupied a booth a couple of spaces from ours. And at the end of the diner were three truckers—I just assumed that because there were parked trucks outside the restaurant. They sat around a lonely table far from anybody else, probably their regular spot here.

The partition of the booths provided plenty of privacy. I didn't think we were in earshot of anybody unless they came close. But the waitress was approaching us, so perhaps I should follow Deen's instruction and stop with the Adumbrae jokes.

The curly-haired waitress stood beside our table. She looked similar to the old lady by the counter who might be her mother or aunt. Taking the pen tucked behind her ear and flipping through a small notepad, she said, "What'll it be, girls?"

Since I wasn't sure when I'd have the time to eat at a diner again, I decided to order plenty of food. Eating a lot would also make me forget about those annoying fuckers who were bothering us. Time for some greasy, fatty, and sugary comfort food. And it would be fun to force Deen to eat them.

Running my finger down the laminated menu, I said, "I think we'll have two grilled cheese sandwiches." I noticed Deen raised a brow; she probably thought I was going to eat both. "One for each of us," I told her.

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"Can't we just divide one?" she said. I bet she was already counting the calories inside her head.

"Fine. Just one then, sliced in two," I said to the waitress. "Then, um, chicken and pancakes. This option, please." I pointed on the menu at a picture of a big pile of chickens on a tall stack of pancakes. I glanced at Deen. She narrowed her eyes at me, realizing what I was trying to do.

"Can we just have the smallest plate instead? That might be too much for the both of us."

"We're hungry, we can eat that no problem." I snuck in a grin at her.

"So, is it a solo plate or a family plate?" asked the waitress in a bored voice.

"Family."

"Solo."

Deen and I looked at each other. "Okay, we'll just go solo," I relented. "But we'll also order other things. I want my friend here to try the food served here." I leaned toward the waitress and spoke in a low voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, it's her first time at a diner."

"Congratulations," the waitress drawled, not giving a care in the world.

But Deen did care that I exposed her. "No, it's not. I-I've been to—"

"We'll also have some hash browns," I cut in. I noticed Deen shifted in her seat. Without even seeing what was happening under the table, I knew that she was going to kick me again. I caught her foot between mine. She frowned at me. I continued, "I like really crispy hash browns. And oh, disco fries. What is this?"

"Fries with lots of gravy and cheese," the waitress explained. "You'll have that too?"

"Sure," I said. Deen tried to pull her leg free without the waitress noticing, but I was using super strength to hold it in place. She couldn't forcefully pull it without looking weird. "And then also apple pie for both of us."

"No, that’s enough already," Deen said through gritted teeth. She continued tugging. I glanced at her to say she should know I was much stronger. She relaxed and said, “I think we might have ordered too much.”

"But I want apple pies,” I insisted.

“Just order one slice for yourself then.”

“I also want you to taste it.”

“We’ll just share,” Deen mumbled. “And that’s it. No more." Then she suddenly pulled her foot, hoping that I had lowered my guard. She was mistaken.

I squeezed her ankle between mine as I said, “Drinks! Right, we shouldn’t forget about that.” A diner experience wouldn’t be complete without milkshakes. And I knew the calories of a milkshake would rile up Deen. I'd do my best to force her to drink it. "Strawberry milkshake, two for us."

The waitress tapped her pen on her notebook. "You girls sure you're not going to share this drink like all your other orders?"

"No, we—" I began to say but stopped when I felt something touch my leg. Deen's using her other foot. She had taken off her slippers and was getting frisky. I shot her a stare with daggers.

"Just one strawberry milkshake," she said, giving me a mischievous wink in return. "We’ll share."

"Is that all?" asked the waitress.

"Is that all, Erind?" Deen coyly said. She wasn't trying to stop me from ordering like earlier. Her foot was rubbing against my leg. Then she slowly moved upward.

Touché, I thought. "That's all," I said. I gave her a look that conveyed, This isn't over. If I kept on ordering, she was going to continue what she was doing. Right now, she was trying to reach my thigh with her toes.

As much as I wanted to push away her foot, maybe also break her bones, I couldn't because the waitress was near us. She'd notice if I reached under the table and might think I was doing something weird—admittedly, we were doing something weird.

"Okay then," said the waitress.

"Can you repeat our orders, please?" Deen said, wanting to drag out the moment that I couldn't do anything to stop her antics. Then she suddenly pinched my thigh using her toes.

I lurched a bit in surprise. The waitress stopped repeating our order to look at me, so I pretended I was just leaning forward to prop my elbows on the table. I cupped my cheeks with my hands and smiled at her.

"Hash browns, one slice of apple pie..." she continued reading her notepad.

Deen pinched my flesh harder to get another reaction out of me. I closed my legs, trapping her foot. She wiggled her toes. Her other foot was still caught in between my ankles. Our eyes met. She was trying to suppress a giggle. Could I crush her foot with my thighs?

"And a strawberry milkshake," said the waitress.

"Yes, that's correct," Deen said. "Right, Erind? Or do you want to order more?"

"No, I'm good," I said as I tried to squeeze and break the bones of her foot with my thighs. I don't think this is physically possible no matter how strong I am.

"I'll be right back with your order in about fifteen minutes."

"Thank you!" Deen cheerily said.