The City's Worst Diner

A face full of bruises.

A handful of carnations on a grave.

Slammed doors and broken glass.

Those were Aaron’s past. Those were the sensations that colored his childhood memories. Those were the experiences of a frightened little boy who would one day age out of foster care.

Those were the memories that made opening up to strangers so difficult, because who would understand? Who would embrace his broken parts? What if he came across as normal in text conversations, then said something so messed up that his date left early?

What if?

Keep overthinking, Aaron scolded himself. I’m sure that’ll be a big help.

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A broken heart.

An unanswered text message.

A breakup voicemail.

Those were Benjamin’s past. Those were the ghosts of his last relationship. Thanks to Drew, he’d walled himself off from affection for months. He’d only agreed to download a new dating app because Natalie had said she was worried about him.

What had happened? Benjamin had been so extroverted, once. He’d smiled, and danced, and let anyone in who needed a friend.

What had happened? Drew had shattered his trust, and his confidence.

Drew had happened.

This new guy Benjamin had matched with, would he understand? What if he was just as bad? What if he was a bully? What if he expected Benjamin to be picture-perfect? What if Benjamin couldn’t live up to his expectations?

What if?

That’s it, Benjamin thought, changing his tie for the sixth time in an hour, cave to the self-doubt. That’ll make you feel so much better.

——————————————————————————————————————————

By a stroke of luck, they arrived outside the restaurant at the same time. Aaron shook off the nerves that had nested themselves in his chest from the moment his bus had arrived late, and Benjamin swallowed back the fear that he’d be stood up.

Step One had gone off without a hitch. Now, they just had to get through the next few hours. It wouldn’t be that painful. This was just a date.

Just a date.

Just the first date they’d both had in a very long while.

Just the first date for two people who still believed they might be too broken to be loved.

Who spoke first? Should Benjamin speak first? Drew always hated the sound of his voice; too loud, too high, too grating.

Aaron didn’t come from a “speak first” family. Most days, his foster father was pleased if he didn’t speak at all.

Finally:

“Hi!” Bennet broke the silence, “Aaron?”

His voice was like Sunday morning church bells. Did people often tell him that? Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Benjamin seemed nonthreatening enough. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Benjamin, right?”

“Just Ben.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Benjamin took in the man before him; all excellent posture and sharp eyes. Aaron was a falcon in flight; graceful and beautiful with a bit of an edge. He said it was nice to meet Benjamin in person. That was a good start, wasn’t it?

Someone shrugged past to get into the restaurant. Aaron looked up on instinct, and his heart fell into his shoes at the size of the line inside.

He’d forgotten to make a reservation. There went his first impression! He could practically feel the fingers digging into the back of his neck. The voice of his abusive former caretaker cut into his ear like a knife: “you blew it, Kiddo. You always do.”

Benjamin followed Aaron’s gaze. Shoot. Of course it was crowded. He hadn’t even considered what time they’d be meeting! 7 p.m on a Friday, did he think the place would be empty?! He knew what Drew would say in this situation: “this is why I always have to do everything.”

Two sets of panicked eyes, two pulses beating so quickly that two damaged hearts felt like they’d pull free soon, and two voices made heavy by a simple mistake said only “I’m so sorry!”

Then, silence.

Benjamin couldn’t understand why Aaron was sorry. Aaron hadn’t botched this. He was the one who’d been so caught up in the excitement of having a date that he hadn’t thought about the logistics.

Aaron was puzzled by Benjamin’s apology. Benjamin was doing him a favor by being here. Aaron couldn’t even pull it together long enough to make a five-minute phone call.

They weren’t leaving each other. Could it be that this person, this man with a voice like church bells and this one with the gaze of an explorer at sea, really was compassionate enough to offer a second chance? There was no anger between them, no resentment; only anxiety, which was slowly melting away like rain water down a sewer grate.

Okay. They could start over. The city was a very big place, after all.

“It looks like we’ll need a Plan B.” Aaron kept his tone light. “There’s a diner around the corner. It’s nothing fancy, but the onion rings are decent and they have old records on the walls.”

“Lead the way,” Benjamin felt himself relax, “we’ll be the best-dressed patrons tonight, I’m sure.”

The joking comment backfired. Aaron’s smile dropped. “If you want, there are…I mean, there’s other places, if you’re not a diner guy.”

“I’m definitely a diner guy.” Definitely a diner guy?! Who did Ben think he was? Ben Stiller?!

Definitely a diner guy. Aaron felt a blossom of warmth in the center of his chest. So Ben was witty, huh? Like a young Ben Stiller.

The walk to the diner was far too short. Where Ben and Aaron had, only moments ago, had to psych themselves up to spend just a few hours together, now they were in no hurry to officially get the date started. Once it started, it would have to end.

The walls would come back up.

Just a little longer, then. “Accidentally” walk past the door a few times. Pretend you can’t find the entrance. His face is becoming more familiar, and he just laughed at your joke. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you for more than a moment.

Don’t take your eyes off me, Ben.

Please don’t ask me to stop staring, Aaron.

I’ve never felt so at peace before.

“We should probably go inside.” Benjamin finally stated. “We don’t want another line to form; unless you have a Plan C.”

Aaron almost quipped that Plan C was them going back to his apartment. He stopped himself when he realized that would constitute moving too fast. This wasn’t a hook-up. He didn’t want a hook-up. He wanted company. “I don’t.” He admitted. “The best I’ll be able to come up with is that hot chicken place across the street.”

In the blink of an eye, they were seated across from each other in a booth with old, cracked seats. Benjamin’s prediction came true; they were the best-dressed patrons there. Aaron found that he didn’t mind so much. Benjamin looked amazing. A purple necktie had never looked so distinguished.

“Good evening,” a confused waiter approached them, “can I interest either of you in a drink to start with?”

Benjamin blurted out the first thing he saw on the menu: a merlot that was far too cheap to be good. Aaron followed suit.

“Okay, confession,” Ben said as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, “I don’t like merlot.”

“Oh my God, neither do I!” Aaron exclaimed. “I just picked it because you did!”

“It’s gonna taste like play dough. We’re doomed.” It was refreshing to be able to joke like this. Drew would have called Ben an awful name, spent the whole night deriding him for being too spineless to change his order.

Aaron picked up his menu, scanning it like a scholar studied an old text. “What’s…chicken-fried salmon…” he mused, “and if I order it…will you try it with me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ben studied, “I’m tempted by the ham pie. Do you think they mean pizza?”

“Uh…nope! Separate section for pizza on the back page.”

“We’ll do halves, then. I’ll try your chicken fish if you try my meat pastry.”

“Deal.”

The merlot was not, as they discovered, as terrible as its price suggested. It was far too sweet and tasted like the juice from an otter pop, but it was palatable. Aaron’s chicken-fried salmon was also perfectly fine.

Benjamin’s ham pie was left largely untouched. No amount of brown sugar or meringue/hollandaise combination sauce would make that edible.

The food and drinks were secondary, anyway. Aaron and Benjamin felt lighter than air. Their conversations flowed like water through a forest, their silences were less the product of awkwardness and more them simply celebrating this impossible turn of events. It was like two magnets had been floating in space for years and finally found each other.

The past could stay where it was; firmly behind them. They were looking to the future now, and the future looked as bright as the neon OPEN sign on the front door of the city’s worst diner.