"It's not because I'm gay," I say, rolling my eyes as Bini takes a bite of her pancakes and shrugs.

"I didn't say that was the sole reason, but it was definitely a contributing factor." Nolan's voice is groggy but certain, and I can't help but scoff a little. "What? Heteronormativity's a bitch."

Nolan, is sitting across from me, completely sunken into the booth with a cheap pair of sunglasses on his face. His head bobs a little, like he's trying to force himself awake. He sits up, his hair, which is a huge pile of tight black curls, droops over his face and I chuckle. Bini is just sitting there with this dreamy look in her eyes and a dopey little smile on her face. She's wrapped up in his hoodie, like she doesn't want to be anywhere that isn't next to him.

Which is surprising considering I expected her to carry his still-beating heart around like a trophy after last night.

"Oh, my bad. I forgot that you, a prime perpetrator of heteronormativity, would be the expert. Is it so hard to believe that I wouldn't want to go to prom for any other reason? You don't even know what you're talking about," I shoot back.

"Why would I not know what I'm talking about?" He questions before tipping his sunglasses, just enough so that his brown eyes perfectly catch the light. "Is it because I'm black?"

He does this all the time.

"Absolutely," I state. I've learned not to challenge him.

"Wow, and you just committed a hate crime," he says, shaking his head in disappointment. "Can you believe this B? Just... appalling."

Bini does not care. She takes a long breath and sighs. "Felix. Nolan. We do this every time. Felix, you're going to say that he called you a word that I'm not allowed to say, and then Nolan will say another word I'm not allowed to say. Then you both will laugh, and everyone around us will be uncomfortable."

"I never said you couldn't say it." Nolan quips.

"Me neither. Here, I'll say it with you." I smile as Bini's eyes roll to the back of her head and Nolan laughs.

I take a sip of my favorite drink, sprite with a splash of cranberry juice, and relax. My dad always said that Spukani Sound operates on its own frequency. Like the laws of space and time don't apply. Which is a lot to say about a diner with three stars on Google, but as time goes on I'm starting to believe it myself.

I say that because everything seems to get turned on its head. French Toast smells like pancakes, apple juice smells like orange juice, and I can actually hold a conversation. Sometimes it feels as though this place works miracles. Bini and Nolan sitting together, laughing and joking, almost as though last night didn't happen. I remember how thick the air felt when Nolan showed up outside my house with flowers. Rather than talk they both asked me if I wanted to get breakfast. I made sure to drive myself, because I refused to get stuck in the middle of whatever that was. Though, I'm sure the two of them will talk, but for now everything is good.

Even though you can't tell what anything is by smell, it doesn't matter because it all smells delicious. Above the wood paneling is a ugly beige wall that's decked out in a ton of these old black and white pictures. A bunch are of old white guys shaking hands, I don't know what over, but they all have huge beards and smiles on their faces. So, probably something nefarious. Near the bathroom, there's this wall that's full of novelty license plates. This place has this thing where if you come here a hundred times then you get your name printed and hung on the wall. Which if you're a local is like a badge of honor.

I always took the time to find my name when I came in. Since there's not enough space so my name gets smushed down to FELI NICH, and above me is my dad, JAKE NICH , and below, my mom KATH NICH. It's weird to think that she actually never made it here a hundred times. The owners decided that they'd honor her posthumously, like she won a Tony or something. It was a really nice gesture though.

It's terrible, but I've always found it a little funny. She literally had to die to get that license plate, but dad and I got one because neither of us like to cook. I smile to myself, I'm definitely not crazy for finding that funny. At least, I hope I'm not.

"Back to what I was saying before we got off topic," I sigh, shoveling a forkful of egg into my mouth, "Bini might've been onto something last night."

"You say that like it's a rare occurrence." Bini smirks before waving her hand for me to continue.

"Anyway, I feel like I missed something important... again." With a huff I drop my shoulders in annoyance. "I just want things to go back to how they were. Even if it's just for a little bit."

"That's real." Nolan nods in agreement. "I mean, college is fun to think about when it's not four months away."

"Not a lie was told. I don't even know what I'm majoring in yet, but mom and dad just want me to go and figure it out." Bini adds, and for a moment there's silence. The only sounds are the music overhead and the ice shifting in our glasses.

"Darty?" I ask.

"Unfortunately not on the docket." Nolan answers.

Bini shoots us a confused look. "Darty?"

"A day party. Usually it's everyone just getting trashed in the woods." Nolan explains.

"Everyone's too busy trying to sober up for their parents and pull it back together for tomorrow."

"I should have expected nothing less." Bini's eyes roll before landing on me. "Hey, maybe you'll win Most Likely To Go Into Stand Up? Sorry, I feel like our relationship barely survived the last one and I don't wanna push it."

Nolan gags at that.

"Damn." That slips out a little too quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it... I just want to feel involved again. Be back in the mix."

Nolan raises a hand. "If I may interject, I think Bini may have been onto something. A superlative could be fun."

"Wait, I love that." Bini smiles and I'm still confused.

"Slow down, how am I gonna win something like Most Likely To Be President when people didn't trust me to be by myself for a year, let alone handle nuclear launch codes."

"Firstly, this is America, when have we not settled for less. Secondly, it's a superlative. It's all about the fun of it, embracing the culture around you, it's being rewarded for being a good time." Bini says.

"Do it," Nolan cuts in. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"I can make everyone hate me."

"Felix, we are gonna help you, sorry 'bout it, you're stuck with us. But why not this? " Again, Bini has this way of controlling a conversation. I'm jealous, but it's that jealousy that helps me realize I don't have an answer. "Felix?"

Sometimes, I tell myself just to trust her. Not because I think she's always right, but I don't always trust myself.

"I just wanna see my face in the yearbook. I wanna look back in a year and have something good to remember. " Out of the corner of my eye I see the license plate with the words KATH NICH. "You guys know how weird it's been. I want that weirdness to be gone for good, and if you think this is the way we gotta do it... then I trust you. "

"Good, then we got this." She sits there for a moment and just takes me in. I'm not sure what she's thinking, but I can only hope it's good. "Let me think, with you sticking your head in so late, missing prom, probably one of the biggest social events of the year, and... less than stellar social... nevermind. We have to do some major backtracking. But I will say that you're pretty well-liked -"

"And my mom's dead." I add.

Nolan's a little surprised. "Dude."

"I'm also as cute as a button." I say plainly. I mean, it doesn't hurt if it's true.

"What if we call that sympathy points. God, if we start working today, I think you might have a shot." Bini says, typing all of this into the notes app on her phone.

I laugh a little. "Well, I'm glad you're optimistic."

"You should be too. I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for years." She's smiling hard and I can tell that she's more than excited for this, but for a brief moment it's hard to ignore the pang in my chest. Like I said though, it was only for a moment.

"You've convinced me. I'm in."

"Wonderful," Bini says as her phone buzzes. She checks it quickly before shoving it back into her pocket. "Also, thanks again for covering for me last night. There's no way they would have let me stay out if I wasn't with you, even though that ended up being the case. Now they're wondering why I haven't come home yet."

"Go home. You're lucky my dad didn't call to check up on us. I haven't done a good Bini impression since I hit puberty. Don't freak them out anymore than you already have." I joke, taking another bit of my pancakes.

"Fine, but first." Before I can really even process what she's doing she snaps a picture of the three of us. "Proof that we actually went out for breakfast for the parents, also revenge for last night." She quickly shows me the picture, and my cheeks are stuffed, while she's flashing the whitest smile and Nolan, who's just naturally photogenic, is sitting with a comfortable smirk.

"Fair enough. However, this will not be forgotten."

Binita shakes her head and laughs as she and Nolan slide out of the booth. "Come on Miss Binita, the chariot awaits," Nolan says, dropping a twenty on the table. "That should cover us."

"Love you, and tell your dad said hi," she says making their way outside, leaving me alone with a messy table and a lot of things to think about.

The first thing I notice is the fact that it's gonna rain, which I'm thankful for. It hasn't rained in almost two weeks, and I was starting to miss it. There's something about waiting for those dark cloud to rain, only for nothing to come. Dad gets the worst headaches when this happens, like all that atmospheric build-up, that pressure, just waiting to explode. Then when it finally releases all that built up pressure just goes away and you can finally breathe again.

But until then I feel this hitch in my throat waiting for that rain to fall.

God, this little shopping center has been here forever. Mrs. Garcia has been running that fabric shop across the street longer than I've been alive. I remember when mom freaked out because they had and I quote, "Tulle that makes me not want to kill myself."

"Nicholson."

I was nine when she said that to me.

"Nicholson."

Or the time she tried to haggle for rhinestones and she got banned for a week. God.

"Felix!"

I feel like I just jumped out of my skin at that. I turn away from the window to see Toby Solomon, who's standing at the head of the table and looking a bit annoyed. His black hair is tied up into a little ponytail and his blue apron is tightly wrapped around his body. I can tell from the dark bags under his eyes that he's exhausted. "Did you want your check?"

"Sorry, yeah I do," I say, as he nods and goes to leave. Usually, that'd be the end of our usual interaction, but something, maybe this backwards diner, pushes me to keep talking. "The parties must've been crazy."

He stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Prom Parties. Didn't you go?"

"No, I didn't."

Okay, maybe it's best not to assume things. "You're not alone then, I didn't either."

"Why not?" Despite how curt he can be, he's always had these soft eyes, that made you wanna spill your soul. Which I guess I have a lot of soul to spill since we haven't had a meaningful conversation since freshman year.

"I don't know. It felt weird." Toby purses his lips at that, and slides into the booth across from me.I don't know how to respond to that so I keep talking. "I mean, when was the last time you saw me at, well anything. If I went to prom it would have been disingenuous."

"That makes sense." Toby nods at that. "I didn't go because I didn't have a date." I raise an eyebrow at that and I think he notices. "I know, it's hard to believe that I didn't have a date, but our class is so small, dating feels like I'm picking someone off of a family tree."

"Let's be real, it's a wreath by this point."

The warm lights hit his copper cheeks when he smiles.

"It just wouldn't have been fun, but I get why you didn't go. I don't think we missed much though, other than Grace Walker finally winning Prom Queen."

"Thank god, I was genuinely terrified of what she'd do if she'd lost." I lean across the table. "You know her dad paid for all of the new football equipment."

"Wow, we were like three votes from deflated balls and potato sacks for jerseys." Toby chuckles at his own joke. "That's exactly why I quit JV Soccer sophomore year. Too much politics. You know the musical, I know you've seen the posters, but you are looking at your next Marius." His tired brown eyes lighten up and I can hear the excitement in his voice.

"I don't know what surprises me more, the fact that we have enough people for Les Mis, or that you're a theatre kid," I chime in and he rolls his eyes.

"Well, it's a community project. We have people of all ages in the show, we even have a real kid playing Gavroche and not a freshman. Besides, I was certain you were gonna be the theatre kid between us. You were at the theatre with your mom all the time."

"I was not there all the time."

"Oh my god, I remember back in seventh grade I asked if you wanted to ride my cousin's dirt bike, and I shit you not, you said you couldn't because you were helping your mom patch holes in spandex."

"I was busy learning a valuable skill, look at this stitch right here," I show him my shoulder, pointing to the seam of my flannel. "You can't even tell. I'm a fucking master seamster."

"Is seamstress too emasculating?"

"Go to hell."

He laughs again.

"Back to what I was saying. If you're willing I think you should come out and see it. I think you'd like it."

"You think so?"

"I know so." He smiles at me, like it's the cherry on top of the sundae he's offering.

"Well, if you insist."

Toby's always been a cool guy. Which sucks, because we actually used to be really good friends. When we were kids we were both always the last pick for kickball. Him, because of his asthma and me because I've always had a gay little run. But, after my mom died and just having to adjust to all of that really made me put a lot of things on the backburner, Toby included.

But that's not the point, it's just crazy to think how different things have become in the span of like three years. What's crazier is that it doesn't even feel like it's been that long. Like we're picking up exactly where we left off.

"You still have my number?" He asks.

"I don't know dude, as you can see I'm pretty popular," I say, gesturing to the empty table. "But I'm sure I could find it if I looked real hard." His smile disappears, and he just looks at me for a moment, stone-faced.

"Has anyone ever told you to go into stand-up?

I can't help but crack a smile. "Weirdly enough, yes."

"Well, whoever said that is wrong. Now I gotta get back to work or else my dad will kill me. Seriously, hit me up if you ever want to hang out or something. It's been forever," He says all that while doing a balancing act with all the dishes, and then he's gone.

As he leaves, I hear the crack of thunder, and moments later comes a downpour. There's people outside scurrying to their cars and trying to find cover until the rain eases up. But me, I can breathe.