Tristan

“Rise above it,” Thelma whispers to me in passing. “Don’t let them get to you, hon.”

I nod firmly and sigh, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed. But then, something happens to take my focus away from the mean girls: a beautiful, sparkling baby blue vintage convertible pulls up in the parking lot. The girls all freeze in place, staring with rapt attention as a mind blowingly hot young man steps out of the car and whips his designer shades off. He’s tall, muscular, and well-dressed, with sandy blond hair and a perfectly-chiseled jaw structure that makes me feel a little weak in the knees.

He doesn’t even give the girls a passing glance as he walks straight past them and through the door to the diner, and my heart seizes up when he sits down at table three.

My table. Which still needs to be bussed and wiped down. I finally shake myself out of my frozen spot and hurry over with a wet rag to scoop up the dishes and wipe down the table, trying not to make eye contact with the hottie.

“S-Sorry,” I mumble, “I just need to clean this up.”

“No worries,” he says, and his voice is like plush velvet to my ears, and I immediately detect another surprising aspect: a British accent. “When you get a chance, love, I’d like a plate of chips and some tea.”

I make the mistake of looking up into his beautiful amber eyes and my stomach goes a-flutter instantly. “Oh, you mean fries? And um, do you want that iced tea sweet or unsweet?” I ask.

He frowns for a moment and then laughs. “Oh, right, right. Fries. And I forget you do your tea cold here, yes? I’ll just have water, then. Thank you.”

I nod and all but bolt away to put in the order, spending the next ten minutes alternating between avoiding him altogether and flat-out staring at him from a distance. It’s getting late, and the diner is virtually empty now except for him. My mind drifts back to what the girls said about Rob, about how I was never in his league to begin with. And if Rob is out of my league, then this British hottie sure as hell is, too. But I guess my despair shows on my face despite my attempts to hide my feelings, because the guy keeps asking me what’s wrong. I dodge his questions over and over again until finally, he holds out his hand to introduce himself and asks me to sit down with him.

“Come now, there’s nobody left here but us,” he says, gesturing for me to sit down across from him. Biting my lip, I only hesitate for a moment before taking his offer and sliding into the booth. He grins, and for a moment it’s like I’m blinded by his charm.

“My name is Tristan. Nice to meet you, Sienna,” he says, and I look at him in confusion.

“How… how did you know my name?” I ask.

He points to my chest. “It’s on your nametag,” he remarks, grinning with amusement.

“Oh. Right,” I answer, blushing furiously.

But despite everything, he somehow manages to get me to open up, and before long the two of us are talking like old friends. When it’s time to close up the diner, we head outside and sit in his fancy car, all the while my brain spinning, trying to make sense of this unbelievable encounter.

“High school was such a drag for me, though for very different reasons,” he says, and I have to wonder how true that could possibly be. Maybe it’s some resentment still at my ex.

“Oh yea, it’s probably really hard being super gorgeous and well off,” I say before I can catch myself, and I’m not sure if I’m more embarrassed that I was so rude to him, or that I just called him super gorgeous.

But his laughter doesn’t seem hurt at all, and he reaches out, lightly touching my leg. “Delightful. This may sound a little strange, but… would you like to come with me? I’m heading up north for a few more days, just seeing the sights and, well, it would be lovely to have a local around to guide me. And besides, you are spectacular company.”

I blink at him in disbelief. Surely he’s joking. Or perhaps I’m being kidnapped. Or punk’d.

I half-heartedly glance around the empty parking lot, looking if those girls are still here. If they put him up to this.

“I-I… what? You want me, a stranger, to go on a road trip with you?” I splutter, shaking my head. He chuckles and gives me a flippant shrug. I go on, “Even if that wasn’t absurd, my parents are out of town and they wouldn’t want me to just go gallivanting off like this —”

“Your parents don’t have to know. It’s only a few days,” Tristan says.

I pause, biting my lip. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but, um… you aren’t planning to kidnap me or, I don’t know, murder me and throw my body in the ocean, are you?”

Tristan tilts his head back and laughs. “Holy shite, is that really your first impression of me?” he asks, more amused than offended.

I give him a wishy-washy shrug and reply, “It can’t hurt to be cautious, ya know.”

“I swear to you that my intentions are purely innocent, and I am asking you to accompany me in the name of spontaneity and adventure. I solemnly promise not to do anything to you which might result in your picture appearing on the front page of a newspaper. I promise. It’s just a few days, and then you can come right back to this diner job and your quaint little town, if you so desire. So, what do you say? What have you got to lose?”

I stare at him blankly, my mind running in circles. What the hell could I say to an offer like this?

3

Those gorgeous eyes of his have already made the decision for me, and my pussy is feeling warm inside at their enticing gaze that seems to promise the world to me.

Still, it hits me: if I don’t do something like this now, then when? Dad runs a convenience store and Mom teaches surf lessons. We’re never going to be the types of people who can afford trips, even if my folks are happy with what they do.