Page 55 of Serenity Falls

‘You’re kidding?’

‘Nope.’

And now Sadie thinks about it, she hasn’t seen anyone chatting on their phone as they walk around or staring at their screen, mindlessly doomscrolling.

‘But how do you take photos or get in touch if you’re running late or, y’know, kill time?’

‘Camera use is allowed, sparingly. There are free public phones, and you can use your cell in an emergency.’ Ellis shrugs. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

But it is a big deal, Sadie thinks. I mean, no phones.

‘It’s not as bad as the curfew,’ Ellis continues.

‘The what now?’

‘Man, you’re fresh out of the box. Curfew, ten thirty every night. To stop people – i.e. us – hanging around the streets.’

Sadie shakes her head. ‘This place is like the worst parent in the world – no phones, no staying up late.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Ellis smiles and pushes open the door. ‘C’mon. Wait till you see inside here. It’s so wholesome you’ll puke.’

The smell of fries, grease and coffee hits Sadie’s nostrils. It’s not unpleasant. In fact, something about it feels kind of homely. In front of her, a huge chrome bar gleams under bright spotlights. Pink bar stools perch along it, most occupied by teens and couples drinking coffees and huge frothy milkshakes. Booths line the windows, complete with chequered vinyl tablecloths and turquoise seats. Waitresses in fifties-style gingham dresses and white aprons, hair curled à la Doris Day, bustle busily around. One of the girls has the same bubble-gum-pink hair as the decor. Sadie half expects Marty McFly to burst in, clutching a skateboard.

‘Shit,’ she mutters. ‘This is very …’

Ellis smirks. ‘I know, right.’ She stares around and suddenly raises her arm in a wave.

‘Over here,’ she says to Sadie.

Sadie follows her across the diner. The clientele is young and straight-looking. Chinos and polo tops for the men, shorts and Gap T-shirts for the girls. She feels a creeping itch at the back of her neck – eyes watching her. The newbie. The Brit. The weirdo. She pulls her shoulders back, walks a little straighter. Suck it up, bitches, she thinks.

Ellis leads her to a booth in a far corner close to an old jukebox. It’s playing a song Sadie vaguely recognizes.

‘All I Have to Do is Dream.’

‘Hey!’ Ellis greets the two teenagers at the table – a girl and a boy. The girl is curvy with dark skin, brown ringlets and nose ring. She wears a loose shirt and cycling shorts. The boy is lanky with longish, sandy-coloured hair, dressed in an oversized baseball shirt and baggy jeans.

‘This is Sadie,’ Ellie introduces. ‘She’s the one I told you about.’ She turns. ‘Sadie, this is Ramona and Dax.’

‘Hey.’ Ramona raises a hand. Her nails are long and decorated with tiny diamante jewels on purple polish.

Sadie raises a hand in return. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Ramona’s face lights up. ‘Oh man, that accent.’ She catches herself. ‘Is it really crass and American to say that?’

‘Totally,’ Ellis and Dax say at the same time.

Ramona grins and pats the seat next to her. ‘Come, sit, new girl.’

Sadie slides into the booth, and Ellis sits down beside Dax.

‘So,’ Ramona says. ‘What do you think of this place so far?’

‘Well …’ Sadie pauses. ‘It’s …’

‘Fucked up, right?’ Dax grins.

Sadie laughs. ‘Yeah. It’s weird. I mean, no offence, but I don’t get how people live here—’