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My first impression wasn’t wrong.
Walking inside the restaurant is like taking a step back in time.
The floor is made up of black and white checkered tiles while the ceiling is covered with shiny silver tin. Framed photographs of old Hollywood stars are interspersed with Coca-Cola memorabilia that decorate the walls. An equal number of tables and booths fill the space. The latter are upholstered with red vinyl while gleaming white linoleum tops glow under the bright lights. Music from decades ago pours through the speakers from a jukebox at the far end of the restaurant.
Just as I take a step, a familiar face snags my attention. “Ava?”
With a smile, she waves.
“Speak of the devil,” Colby whispers. “That’s Coach Philips.”
“And his daughter, Ava.”
My new friend flicks a glance at Colby before her brows rise. Humor simmers in her eyes as they refasten onto mine.
Looks like I’ll have some explaining to do.
Like me, Ava is new to Western University. Her father is Reed Philips, head coach for the Wildcats hockey team. We met in one of our general education classes this past fall and bonded over the fact that we’re both older freshmen. Instead of attending college after graduating high school, Ava’s been focused on her figure skating career. From what I’ve been able to gather, something happened last year, which is why she’s taking a break from the circuit to train and take a few classes.
Her father rises to his feet. He’s a handsome man with blond hair and blue-green colored eyes. It’s easy to see where Ava gets her looks from. She’s the spitting image of him. Except where he’s big and broad, she’s petite.
“Hey, Coach” Colby greets. “Looks like the cat is out of the bag regarding this place.”
The older man smiles. “Yup, one of the assistant coaches mentioned it the other day and I thought we’d give it a try.” A soft look fills his eyes as he glances around. “Reminds me of a restaurant I used to eat at in college.”
Ava tilts her head. “Didn’t Mom work at a place like this?”
The grin that lights up his face makes him look even more handsome. “She sure did. Stella’s Diner. Had the best Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes I’ve ever eaten.”
His daughter’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “I’ll be sure to tell Mom that.”
“Better not.” Coach glances at his sports watch. “Well, we should get moving. I still have a few hours of film to squeeze in tonight.”
“Don’t worry, Coach. We got the game in the bag.”
“I’ll relax after the final buzzer rings.” He glances at his daughter. “I’ll take care of the bill and meet you at the car.”
She nods before turning to me. “Sorry about not texting back yesterday. Between practice and classes, I’m a little overwhelmed this week.”
I nod. “Don’t worry about it, but let’s find time to get together. Even if it’s only to study at the library for a few hours.”
“That sounds good.”
She pulls me in for a quick hug before whispering, “Colby McNichols? Really?”
“It’s not what you think,” I grumble.
“Actually, it’s exactly what she’s thinking,” he interjects with a smile.
Ava chuckles before taking off with a quick wave. And then she’s out the door, leaving me alone with Colby.
Precisely where I don’t want to be.
A waitress wearing a hot pink retro uniform flashes a friendly smile as we slide into a booth. There’s a mix of people dining here. Older couples, families enjoying a rare night out, and groups of teenagers laughing and flirting with each other.
It’s exactly what I imagined it would be like to hang out with friends in high school. It’s not something I have any experience with. As soon as I was discovered, we packed up and moved to sunny California where dreams are made.
Or crushed beneath someone’s wingtip.
Instead of enrolling in a public high school, I was homeschooled. My parents and agent felt that it would give me more time to write music. The show followed shortly after.
At first, it was all exciting and new. I didn’t miss my boring classes on subjects I had zero interest in. Or an endless string of homework, tests, and quizzes. Or the social pressures that went hand in hand with it.
Fast forward three years and I longed for the ordinariness of high school and my peers. I missed out on all the monumental firsts that get experienced during that time. Homecoming. Prom. First dates and boyfriends. Friday night football games under the stadium lights. Slumber parties and shopping with your besties at the mall.
I never had a chance to experience any of it.
With all the time spent on set, friends were a distant memory.
“What can I get for you, hon?” the waitress asks, pencil poised over a small pad of paper.
I blink out of the memories tangling around me only to stare at the plastic menu. “Oh, um…I’ll have a chicken salad.”
