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The summer in the Trost district was always scorching. Everyone did all they could to cool down, wearing almost no clothes and buying as many air conditioners and battery run fans as possible. Personally, my favorite way to keep cool was through the consumption of frozen dairy products. A diner in town just so happened to specialize in creating the best freaking milkshakes ever, so my friends and I would frequent it during especially hot summers.
It was a day during one of these hellish summers that my friend, Annie, suggested we meet up at the diner and get some refreshments. I happily obliged considering I was getting a bit bored with sprawling out on my bed and being bored.
It's a terrible pastime; I don't recommend it.
Annie drove up to the diner on her motorcycle. She was accompanied by a passenger who was obviously uncomfortable with riding, as they gripped onto Annie with their life. Expertly, the blonde parked her vehicle and assisted her companion off. As he lifted the helmet off, it was revealed that Annie had brought along Bertholdt Fubar, a close friend of hers. Where as Annie and I were pierced faces, wildly cut hair, and dark, ripped clothes, Bertholdt was sweater vests and polo shirts. I felt a little bad for him because Annie and Reiner (another friend of his) were always dragging him along in order to give them a better appearance.
I greeted them as they approached me, and we entered the diner.
As we found a booth, we received a couple of sideways glances, but we were pretty used to it by now. Patiently, we waited for a waiter or waitress to come our way and take our orders. We had all been to the diner so many times we no longer needed menus, but instead already knew what we wanted ahead of time.
"Are you guys ready to order?" A freckled waiter holding a notepad asked, surprisingly calm despite our intimidating appearance. Instead of being rude or nervous like most people, this guy was all smiles and serenity.
"Beep beep," Annie said without any change in expression. The waiter looked confused and turned to me for explanation. Unfortunately, the best I could offer him was a shrug.
Annie explained, "That was my gaydar going off."
The freckled boy's eyes went wide and a light blush tinted his freckled cheeks. I could see his grip on his notepad tighten. "'Scuse me?"
"I'm so sorry! Annie, she just doesn't have a head to mouth filter and-and sometimes she says things she doesn't mean!" Bertholdt swooped into the conversation, attempting to save the waiter some embarrassment. But the damage had been done, and the freckled boy now had a seemingly permanent blush stained onto his face.
Cute.
"So wh-what would you all like to order?" The waiter (whose name I learned by reading his name tag was Marco) asked, successfully taking the topic away from his sexuality.
I answered for all of us, "Milkshakes. Two chocolate and a strawberry."
He nodded, jotted down the order, and walked off. As he did so, I did not admire his ass.
Okay maybe just a little glance, but that was it.
Bertl's voice brought me back to reality. "Seriously Jean, I will never understand how you stomach the flavor of artificial strawberries."
Strawberry milkshakes were a guilty pleasure of mine and the girliest thing I have ever consumed. My friends often teased me about it, but I really didn't care.
"And I will never understand how you sweat so much, but some things are better left unanswered," I replied with a smirk, causing Bertl to return to his state of perpetual sweating and brooding.
The table was silent for a minute, before I remember that I was still a little upset with Annie for flustering the cute, freckled waiter.
"Annie, seriously, what the hell was that?" I asked out of the blue.
She looked up at me, face still frozen in a bored expression. "What do you mean?"
"I mean embarrassing the waiter. Accusing him of being gay."
"Since when do you care what I do?" A devious smile spread across her lips. "You like him, don't you?"
I hesitated. Yeah, he was cute, but looks didn't mean everything to me. He appeared to have a kind personality, but I couldn't say he did for sure; I had only really known him for five minutes. Besides, he didn't even know my name, how could he possibly like me back?
"Wh-what? No, no of course not."
Bertholdt's frown sank a centimeter on each side. "You hesitated and stuttered."
"Double whammy," Annie smirked.
"Guys, I'm not-"
"Two chocolate milkshakes and one strawberry." Marco appeared out of nowhere, interrupting our verbal fight.
Instead of making the usual mistake of giving Annie the strawberry, the blonde girl received a chocolate milkshake. Marco slid the other chocolate over to Bertholdt and handed me the strawberry shake.
Our fingers brushed during the handoff, sending sparks all up my arms. "Th-thanks," I stammered.
Way to be smooth, Jean.
The freckled waiter looked into my eyes and smiled softly. Before walking off, he whispered to me, "Beep beep.”