vii. | lucas.

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vii. | lucas.

ROSES AND VANILLA...
A COMFORTING SCENT

LUCAS STEFFEK the gentle


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    TO GO ON record, Lucas Steffek's favorite scent was, in fact, roses and vanilla.

    That was not what this diner smelled like. The Malt Diner, a new place for food that Alexander had found on Google and insisted on going to, instead of going to their favorite 60's-inspired diner, which Lucas didn't know the name of, had that of the dingy, soap-smelling, "there's-probably-someone-doing- crack-in-the-kitchen" atmosphere.

    Don't you just love that?

    Lucas sure didn't.

    "Table for six?" the young waitress at the entrance asked the boys.

    "Yes, please," Chandler replied, contorting his lips into a smirk.

    The waitress blushed a bit and grabbed four menus.

    Lucas had grown to know that Chandler had that effect on people — getting them to do what he wanted them to do by giving them his charming, dashing, manipulative, famous Chandler Pevovski smirk.

    Then again, she was a waitress and did have to give them a table... since they asked.

    The waitress — whose red name tag read "Courtney" — placed six menus on the white marble table of a booth, gave Chandler a smile, and walked back to her post.

    "When do you think they cleaned these last?" Matison asked, running his finger across the — obviously fake and cheap — white marble.

    "I don't wanna know," Charles whispered, but, slid into the booth first.

    Chandler cleared his throat and tightening his tie, which already looked like it was about to strangle him. He motioned for Lucas to get into their side of the booth first.

    Lucas looked to Chandler, their blue eyes meeting, and back to the booth. Reluctantly, he slid onto the fake black leather, meeting Charles in the middle of the circular booth.

    He grabbed a menu from the middle of the table (three of which were already gone, being occupied by Matison, Alexander, and Charles) and scanned the drinks section; Lucas didn't think he could eat anything. Even the thought of trying to stomach food about made him sick.

    And that wasn't just the eating disorder talking.

    The thought of what happened the prior month in Vegas still haunted him.

    Lucas looked down at his white button-up shirt, just to make sure the red stains weren't on this one. They weren't.

    "You boys ready to order?"

    Lucas's eyes snapped to the right of him. Courtney stood there, a flirtatious smile plastered on her red lipstick coated lips. She looked dreamily at Chandler, who was on the outside of the booth.

    His sapphire blue eyes scanned the menu quickly. "The club sandwich, please," he said, leaning back onto the cushion as he continued to look at Courtney. "With a side of fries and a raspberry lemonade."

    Courtney smiled and scribbled a few things down on her notepad.

    Lucas could already tell Courtney was Chandler's type: soft, gentle, kind, and ready to be taken advantage of. Chandler wanted girls that would love him. Correction: Chandler wanted girls he could manipulate into loving him. He wanted them to be able to break easily so he could be there to comfort them and trick them into thinking he was a good, caring guy.

    That's not who Chandler Pevovski was.

    Courtney took her amber-brown eyes off of Chandler and looked to Foster, who was in between Chandler and Lucas.

    Foster's head rested on his closed hands. He had a blank stare resting easily on his face. His green eyes gleamed scarily as he looked up at Courtney.

    "I'll just have a side of fries," he said quietly, his voice dripping with fake calmness, from what Lucas could understand. "And I'll just stick with water."

    Charles went next, noticing the distressed look on his best friend's face. "Chicken and waffles and an iced coffee," he said shortly, giving Courtney a quick smile as she scribbled his order down.

    Chandler looked at Charles, concerned. Charles simply shrugged.

    Courtney looked to Lucas. "You?"

    Lucas's mouth went dry and he knew Chandler wasn't going to be happy with his answer.

    "I'm not hungry," he whispered.

    Chandler's intimidating blue eyes shot past Foster and over to him giving him a look: the heavy-lidded, disappointed look. To most people, it would have been a look of concern. To Lucas, it was a look of dread. He knew what was going to come afterwards with a look like that. It was a look that Courtney would never understand — hopefully.

    "You need to eat, Lucas."

    Lucas didn't move a muscle; until Foster said something.

    "He'll just have the same as me," the dirty-blond haired boy said suddenly. He swallowed hard and held his breath, waiting for a response from Chandler. When none came, he let his shoulders fall.

    Courtney nodded and moved over to Alexander and Matison.

    "Thank you," Lucas whispered to Foster.

    "Anytime," the green-eyed boy said, giving Lucas a warm smile.

    Lucas returned it.

    Foster suddenly jumped and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I saw something I thought you might like," he said and put his phone in between the boys's legs.

    It was a picture of a hand making a circle with its thumb and index finger. Foster then moved it to his knee. Lucas rolled his eyes with a smile as Foster punched him lightly in the arm.

    "Got 'em," Foster whispered quietly as he put his phone back into his pocket.

    Lucas really liked his new friends.

    ...Most of the time.

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