22
I leaned back in the leather seat, my eyes scanning over the food menu.
"You can't expect me to eat here do you?" Alexa asked in disgust as her eyes covered every inch of the small diner we were in.
The floor had black and white tiles, the booths had red seats and worn out wooden tables between them. It smelt like chips and cakes in here. The air was slightly hot and the place seemed stuffy because of how crowded it was.
Everyone here was basic, just like I loved it to be. The chef who I had seen through the window had a greasy white apron that just made this place seem great.
"Who said I came here for you?" I asked Alexa, still scanning the menu.
"Hey there. I'm Anna. Welcome to Roadhouse Diner. What can I get you two this fine mornin'?" a dirty blonde girl said coming up to us. She had a southern accent.