Chapter Sixteen

Delaney

I waited on a bench at a bus stop a few houses down from mine. Trai had agreed to pick me up there, since my parents would be excessively inquisitive about any boy coming over. Once again, I lied, telling them I was going to Lizzy's (who, by the way, still was having nothing to do with me).

As seconds ticked by, I was shrouded in the evening light—or lack thereof. A bus pulled up and a few late workers began getting out. For a few minutes, I was surrounded with the sounds of rustling feet and conversation, but as the people dispersed, it quickly became quiet again. I became increasingly nervous; it was getting dark, and I didn't want to be out alone. Seattle's nightlife could be questionable.

To pass the time, I pulled out my phone and started fiddling with the brightness settings. I was so focused that I didn't notice the car pulling up until it came to a stop and the window began rolling down.

"Come here often?" a deep voice asked gruffly. I flew to my feet and began backing away, but quickly ran into the bench again and landed hard on my backside. Someone began to laugh.

Trai was sticking his head out the car window, staring at me with an amused smile on his face. "Don't look so tense," he snorted.

A jolt of annoyance ran through me, adding to my already present discontent over having to wait by myself for so long. "I don't know what you think is so funny," I snapped. "You could at least to try to take this seriously."

Contrary to what I expected, he didn't get mad; he just smirked. "Jeez, killjoy," he muttered. "Got a stick up your butt?"

I felt my face and neck heat up. "Whatever," I grumbled. "Let's just go." Without waiting for a response, I stalked around the car and dropped heavily into the passenger side, making sure to slam the door behind me. Much to my annoyance, Trai just shook his head, still smiling.

He cranked up the volume of the stereo and hummed along as he plugged in the directions to Rascal's Diner. As the car began to glide smoothly down the street, I sat tensely, clutching my phone in white-knuckled hands. Trai, who had his eyes closed and was leaning his head back against his seat, didn't seem nervous at all. Thankfully, the trip went by fairly quickly, and it seemed like only seconds had passed when an automated voice came out of the speakers, announcing that we had reached our destination in a robotic cadence.

Trai opened his door and stepped outside, but I was frozen to my seat. After a moment passed and I hadn't moved, he stuck his head back in.

"Are you experiencing a sudden bout of paralysis?" he asked in a serious tone. It wasn't funny—it shouldn't have been funny, but, probably due to nerves, I laughed before I could stop myself. Trai glanced at me quickly, his expression surprised.

"I admit, didn't think I'd get a laugh out of you," he remarked. "There's hope for me yet!"

Rolling my eyes, I opened my own door. "Shut up."

Looking around, I saw that we were on a quiet street filled with various restaurants and convenience stores. There wasn't anything wrong with it at first glance; it seemed like something we'd see in the more suburban areas of Seattle. But it was nearly empty. Only a few people milled around, and they were teenagers in gang-like clothes who leaned against a nearby building looking dangerous. The stores themselves were open, it seemed, but apart from a bored sales clerk I saw through one window, they were devoid of life.

"How long do we have?" Trai asked suddenly, jolting me away from my observations.

I glanced at my phone. "About five minutes," I reported. "Where's the diner?" I stood on tiptoe and looked around, but couldn't find a sign depicting our location.

"It's a few blocks down. I obviously didn't want to park right in front."

I groaned. "There's no way we'll make it in time."

Mischief sparkled in Trai's eyes. "Well maybe you won't..." And then he took off running, his long limbs clearing twice the distance I could cover.

"Jerk!" I called after him, sprinting as quickly as I could.

"Catch me if you can!" he sang, laughing as he disappeared around the corner.

I cursed to myself, trying—and failing—to ignore the pain in my side. It's no secret that running was never my strong suit, and chasing after someone with legs twice the length of mine was hardly an easy feat.

When at last I rounded the corner, Trai was standing there waiting, doubled over in laughter.

"Ha-ha, aren't you funny," I said dryly. "Come on, you freak. We've gotta get a move on."

He stumbled after me, still chuckling to himself. Annoyed, I sped up. We shuffled through the empty, darkening streets in silence, the only sound being our sneakers scraping against the pavement. The darkness was almost ominous, spurring us on, faster and faster, just to get out of it.

As we continued on, the neighborhood became progressively worse. Here, many of the buildings we passed were old and rundown, with peeling paint and explicit graffiti decorating the walls. Trash littered the gum-caked streets, and shoes hung over the out-dated phone lines.

"So, this is Tukwila," I murmured to myself. "I knew it was rundown, but I didn't realize it had gotten this bad."

Trai, who had heard me, nodded a bit. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "Yeah."

As we were approaching the final block, a gust of wind hit us head-on, causing me to shiver; I had forgotten my sweater at home.

"You're cold," Trai observed suddenly.

"I'm fine." I sped up to prove my point,

He stopped walking.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. "We're already late."

"You're cold," he repeated, pulling off his sweater and holding it out to me. "Take my jacket."

"I don't want your jacket," I said, raising my eyebrows. "Keep it."

Rather than putting it back on, he nudged me with the thick fabric. "Just wear it. Look at yourself; you've got goosebumps."

I scowled and checked my phone. There was simply no time to argue. "If I wear it, will you keep walking?" He nodded. Grumbling to myself, I snatched the jacket out of his hands and slid it on. It was several sizes large, so I had to roll up the sleeves, but I had to admit, it was warm.

"Thanks," I muttered reluctantly.

It didn't take long to close the rest of the distance between us and the diner, which was emanating a faint light from within.

Before we went around to the back, I took a quick look at Rascal's 24 Hour Diner. It was a small, squat, concrete structure with metal double doors that had small windows in them. Those were the only possible ways to view into the building, and they were frosted glass. Above the doors, a neon light sign hung crookedly. It had several blown out letters, proclaiming that we were at "Rasl's 2 Ho Din."

"Delaney? Are you coming?" It took me a moment to realize that Trai was already halfway around the structure. I shuffled over to him, and together we skirted the edge of the building until we reached a single closed door. Without hesitation, he knocked on it, loud and hard.

The door opened a crack and half of a man's head peeked out. "What do you want?" he growled. I swallowed, forgetting what to say.

"We'd like to order the Farrows Special," Trai told the man confidently. After a moment, the door swung open. We found ourselves staring up at a giant of a man with close-cropped hair and thick black eyebrows. His eyes were hard, and grew harder still as he narrowed them, looking us up and down.

"Kids." He sounded surprised, and paused for a second, probably deciding whether or not to let us through, then grunted and stepped beckoned us forward. The diner itself, filled with unbalanced tables cast in shadow, was empty. The man led us across the room and through a small doorway into the kitchen. He stopped at a door that, at first glance, I would have guessed was an old-fashioned meat locker. But when he opened it, the door revealed a set of stairs.

He grunted again. "Down there." Trai and I both hesitated, but the man barked, "Hurry it up!" and we jumped inside. A second later, the door slammed behind us, shrouding us in darkness. Using the walls, we inched our way down. Neither of us spoke. The only way I knew Trai was there was by the soft sound of his breathing.

At the bottom of the stairs we found a dimly lit space occupied by another thick-bodied man. He gave us the once over with narrowed eyes. Finally, he muttered, "You're late. Take a seat, and don't talk." He stepped aside, revealing another door, and opened it, shooing us both inside before we could speak.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the sight that I was met with. It was some kind of basement, and a mirror image of the diner above, except that it had nicer furnishings and much better lighting. The entire room was jam-packed with people. They sat at all the tables and stood in any open space. Despite the amount of bodies, however, it was dead silent.

Trai and I wormed our way through the crowd as quietly as we could, trying not to step on anyone. Every single person we passed was an adult. They watched us with the same mix of confusion and curiosity as the doormen had. It made my stomach twist.

Trai stopped suddenly, and I crashed into him. I started to yell at him, but he slapped a hand over my mouth and pressed a finger to his lips.

Whatever, I thought sullenly. Glaring will suffice. Seeming not to notice my angry stare, he nodded his head to his left, his eyes wide. Turning in that direction, I could just barely see, over the heads of all the people, a small stage with a microphone in the center.

"What?" I mouthed, frowning. Trai shook his head and pointed in the same direction, mouthing what seemed like look who it is.

Bewildered, I followed his finger with my eyes, rising to my toes to see over all the people.

And that's when I saw her.