Diner Girl

Harley Elizabeth Jones is a girl with insomnia. Ashton Irwin is a drummer of a famous band. What happens when he crosses paths one night with Diner Girl?


3. Chapter 2

"So, Ashton, how old are you, exactly?" I asked, making sure I wasn't talking to a stranger that was 10 years older than me. He had joined me in the booth and I had traded in my coffee for two hot chocolates. I figured that cocoa was more appropriate for 1 in the morning. What else do you expect?

"Turned 20 last month. What about you?" he said, looking at me as he took a sip of his drink.

"I’m 18." I said, tugging on the sleeve of my white shirt.

"Cool,” he said, looking up with a little half smile that I didn’t quite understand. “So you said you’re in school. Would that be high school or college?" he asked as he set  his mug on the table.

"College. I'm an art major here at the community college but I want to transfer to an Art school in New York next year, so I need to start my portfolio drawings. What about you? What do you do?”

"I'm a drummer for a some-what famous band." Ashton said, sliding me an impish grin that caused me to smile. For some reason, I felt oddly comfortable with him.

"Is that supposed to impress me or something?" I joke, tucking a loose strand of my caramel colored hair behind my ear.

"Actually, yeah." he laughs. I can’t help but snicker at him. His laugh was surprisingly giggly for a 20 year old.   

As our laughter died down, I continued our conversation,"On a more serious note, what is your band's name? If you’re so famous, maybe I've heard of you."

"5 Seconds of Summer."

My eyes widen slightly. So he wasn’t joking about this band of his. "Oh yeah, I've heard a few songs by you guys. They aren't terrible either."

"Is that supposed to be compliment?" He says looking slightly offended.

"I guess so, yeah." I shake my head, laughing.

"So what songs have you heard?" he asked, his eyes glimmering with something I feel that I recognize. Hope?

"Um, I believe they are called ‘She Looks So Perfect’ and ‘Amnesia’. You know, the ones that have been all over the radio." He nodded, looking pleased.

We continue our conversation. I end up telling him all about me; how I have two dads and a little brother, how I have only like one real friend, who my favorite band is, how I have insomnia, all that fun stuff you ask a person when you meet them.  He tells me that he has a mom, a little sister, and little brother, that he used to swim, he’s 6 feet tall, and how his band members are like his only friends from Australia. I was right about his accent, by the way. Ashton seems overall to be a pretty good guy, not some “friendly” creep. This boy is simply nice. I found myself enjoying his company much more than I had anticipated.

"Do you have a favorite band?" I asked.

"No, there are too many I enjoy." he shrugs, finishing up his hot chocolate.

"Ok, then how about favorite song?"

"Like I said, too many to choose from," he sighs.

I roll my eyes. He’s a musician, for goodness sakes. He should have his favorites down by heart.  "Impossible. You have to have a favorite song. For example, mine is ‘Heart Out’ by the 1975" I burst into the first part, singing with gusto, throwing my arms in the air like a lunatic for ‘dramatic effect’. This causes him to giggle violently, which soon becomes contagious, and we laugh together in the booth like idiots.  

Ashton gulps in air and swallows the last bits of his laughter. "Ok,ok, let me think. Maybe ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by the Arctic Monkeys? I'm not even that sure."

"Good enough for me." I shrug, setting my now-empty mug onto the table. Ashton pulls out his phone and I glance over. "What time is it?" I ask, curious to know.

"1:15" He says, putting his phone away. I nod my head. For me, it’s actually really early, and I still have 3 hours and 45 minutes to kill. "Are you doing anything tonight?" he asked abruptly.

"Uh, other than sitting here and waiting for 5:45 to come around? No," I shrug, staring at the curly-haired boy in front of me.

"How about we go on an adventure,then?" he suggests, grinning from ear to ear. I’m taken aback by his invitation. Should I? I think to myself. We may not be strangers anymore, but we aren’t quite friends. Yet, I tell myself. But, I think he has hundreds of thousands of fans. He’s famous. I barely know him. A few minutes of a good conversation doesn't automatically make us best friends. I stared at him, thinking, considering. The war inside my head was going back and forth between logic and curiosity. My mind felt like it was running around in circles. Eventually, though, logic won. I looked into Ashton's hopeful hazel eyes. As he saw my face,his eyes lost that spark of hope they held only moments before. "Sorry Ashton, but I can't." He looked so disappointed I almost changed my mind but before I could he stood up.

"It's okay, but if I want to go anywhere tonight, I’d better getting going," he mumbled, giving me a small smile before striding out of the diner, the door chiming as he slipped away.

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