WHO: Avery and Emma WHERE: Vic's Diner WHEN: Wednesday, 12/5/2012 WHAT: cousins ; break time WARNINGS: None so far
Avery Weston had ceased to believe in Santa Claus at a very early age. He had only the vaguest of memories of Christmas as a magical time of mystery and wonder, possibly because his parents hadn't been the sort to indulge children. There were three photos in existence of Avery with Santa Claus: one when he'd been a screaming infant, protesting being held by a stranger, and the other two when he'd been under the age of four, cringing and giving Santa the side-eye as if to ask who this hugely fat man in a red and white suit might be. Well before kindergarten, he'd become aware that presents were put beneath the tree by his parents, which certainly explained the disparity between what Avery received and what some other children in town did.
Avery tended to view the Christmas season with a heavy sort of disdain, rolling his eyes at the decorations and the music that was piped in at any public place where music was played. At the gas station, he had a radio behind the counter that he kept tuned to KZOZ, which played heavy metal and classic rock only, and if anyone else who worked there wanted to switch to a station that played carols during the holidays? Avery didn't want to know about it. So as he drove over to Vic's Diner for a very late lunch break, he tapped his fingers to the strains of 'Kashmir' that issued from his car stereo and ignored everything else around him, including the life-sized tableau of a Santa Claus and red-hatted penguins somebody'd set up on their lawn. Ho fucking ho.
It would have been quicker for him to go home for lunch rather than drive across town to Vic's, but Avery wanted to see his cousin, to whom he was very close. Plus, a good dose of grease aided anyone's digestion, right? He was addicted to Vic's cheese fries. He parked his ancient Volare in front of the Diner, where there were plenty of spots due to the fact that it was nearly 2:00 and well after the lunch rush. Getting out, he pocketed his keys and headed inside, dressed in his uniform shirt and a pair of dark slacks, his hands scrubbed but still bearing the occasional grease stain, especially around his knuckles and fingernails. Avery pushed open the door and glanced around for Emma, hoping he could coerce her into taking a break now.