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Rebecca raises her hand politely. “Actually, I have food allergies, and—”

The man waves dismissively. “Imaginary. Your generation, honestly. In my day, you know how many kids were allergic to peanuts? None! Now everyone is so sensitive. Sensitive to this, sensitive to that. Grow a pair and learn how to eat like an adult!” He delivers it all with the cadence of a well-practiced speech.

Rebecca’s smile doesn’t shift, and she hasn’t lowered her hand. “I could literally die if I eat tree nuts or shellfish, or anything that has come into contact with them.”

“And yet here you are! Still not dead!”

“Gary,” Linda says in a singsong tone. “We know about Rebecca’s allergies. A separate breakfast has been prepared. Remember? Ask Ray.”

Gary lets out a dismissive burst of air from his incongruously full and red lips. “Right. Fine. Anyone else need special care for their special bowels? Hmm? I know it’s hard to leave Mommy’s basement and come out into the real world.”

“Gary.”

He raises his hands, grinning. “I kid, I kid. These young folks can take a joke, right?”

“For the record, I live in my parents’ garage, not their basement,” Jaden mugs. Gary laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I like this one. Would you feel the muscles on this guy? Wow!” Gary squeezes Jaden’s shoulder, then nods. “I know who my money’s on.”

“You’re allowed to bet?” beautiful Ava asks.

“No,” Linda snaps. She takes a deep breath, and her smile goes back into place. “No, but some people in the town will naturally take an interest. It’s the biggest thing to happen here in years. Now, will you please take their orders so we can get down to business?”

Gary grumbles. “We built an international chain from the ground up, a global dining phenomenon, but sure, yeah, I’ll take orders like a little waitress.” His scowl is carved into his face, but he gets to work.

“Hey, who’s Ray Callas?” Brandon chirps, looking up from where he’s reading a framed magazine article about the small-town diner that took over the world. Another older man pauses where he was coming out of the kitchen.

“Me,” he says.

“My dad’s last name is Callas. What a coincidence! Maybe we’re related.” Brandon beams, eager and genuinely excited by the connection, but Ray shakes his head.

“No.” Without further comment, Ray helps Gary distribute glasses of water and well-loved menus.

Mack orders pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausage and toast and fruit and orange juice. Gary raises a bushy eyebrow. “You got an appetite.” He leans closer. “You a boy or a girl? How am I supposed to tell with this?” He gestures at her neutral haircut and her baggy clothes.

“Maybe people don’t owe you their gender,” Ava says, slinging herself into the chair next to Mack.

“Oh god, save me from lesbians with opinions. Did you ever think you just needed to find the right man?” Gary’s smile is both predatory and aggressive. “You know, back in my day we didn’t decide we didn’t need gender or marriage or procreation. We accepted how God made us without forcing our opinions on everyone around us. We also got jobs and worked honest days and moved out of our parents’ houses before we were forty.”

“Cool story, man,” Ava says. “Tell me about how you walked uphill to school both ways, twenty miles in the snow, and how going to school didn’t put you in six-figure debt, and how your first house cost less than a car, and then I’ll tell you a story about how your generation fucked mine over.”

Something hard and cold shifts in his smile, and his manner of speech changes from the well-worn regurgitations of what he’s read on Facebook. “You’re going out early. I can tell. You should respect your elders. I’m a veteran.”

“Me, too.” Ava leans back in her chair, yawning. “I’ll have the same breakfast, only with a chocolate milkshake instead of orange juice.”

Linda clears her throat. Gary snatches their menus and moves on. Linda pauses at their table, putting a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. “Don’t mind Gary. He means well. We’re all very glad you’re here.”

“Gary reminds me of my grandpa,” Ava says as soon as Linda leaves. “I hated my grandpa.”

To Mack’s surprise, beautiful Ava joins their table. She seems agitated, constantly glancing over at Rebecca’s full table. LeGrand sits by himself at the counter, frowning over the packet. He’s been staring at the same page the entire time. The tall, gangly guy with a friendly face offers to help Ray in the back, but Ray waves him off. Gangly joins their table, too. He sits straight, an eager smile on his face.

“Hey! I’m Brandon. Are you guys excited?” he asks. Now Mack knows his name, too. Brandon, Ava, beautiful Ava, LeGrand. She decides that’s enough names to learn. None of them matter anyway.

“For breakfast?” Ava asks.

Brandon laughs. “No. I mean, I’m excited for breakfast. I work graveyard. I haven’t had a real diner breakfast in years! But no. For the game. It’s gonna be fun, right?”

Beautiful Ava smiles, holding it carefully. She’s sitting with perfect posture and keeps looking around the room. Scanning the walls, and then the corners where the walls meet the ceiling.

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