“Waters for everyone,” Daisy said when Holly arrived to take our drink order.
Davis turned to me and said, “They don’t have Dr Pepper?”
“Soft drinks aren’t covered by the coupon,” Holly explained, monotone.
“But also, no. We have Pepsi.” “Well, I think we can spring for a round of Pepsis,” he said.
I realized in the silence that followed that I hadn’t spoken since answering Davis’s compliment about my shirt.
Davis, Daisy, and Mychal eventually went back to talking about Star Wars and the size of the universe and traveling faster than light.
“Star Wars is the American religion,” Davis said at one point, and Mychal said, “I think religion is the American religion,”
and even though I laughed with them, it felt like I was watching the whole thing from somewhere else,
like I was watching a movie about my life instead of living it.
After a while, I heard my name and snapped into my body, seated at Applebee’s,
my back against the green vinyl cushion, the smell of fried food, the din of conversation pressing in from all around me.
“Holmesy has a Facebook,” Daisy said, “but her last status update is from middle school.”
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