Evelyn slid into the booth opposite her best friend. She winced as her tennis shoes squeaked against the brown polyurethane that the owners tried to pass off as real leather booths.
Ben looked up from his fries and Econ homework and smiled at her. "Hey Evy," he said before pushing his plate towards her and returning to his homework.
"Hey." She managed to squeak out. Unsure of how to talk to her best friend of twelve years, she proceeded to shove fries in her face.
He quickly noticed her rare silence and stopped writing to look up at her. "You okay?"
She gulped, audibly.
"I'll take that as a no," Ben said capping his pen and tucking it into his notebook. "Come on Evy, out with it."
She wasn't sure how to tell him what she...
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