Young Writers Society

Of course. The diner.

Grayson and Seth basically live at the Honeysuckle. It’s their main hangout spot, the waitresses know both of their orders by heart. Whereas I have been there exactly three times. And now, because of some guy who is clearly not into her, Willa wants to go and have a milkshake. I have no problem with the milkshake—I have the problem with Seth. Willa doesn’t realize that he’s a runaway trickster who lures people in then tosses them back out to sea. She just can’t get it in her head that she’s better off without him.

But here we are anyway.

The Honeysuckle Diner is quaint and cute, and it’s been around as long as the town. The recipes haven’t changed one bit since the 40s, and neither has the decor. Stepping into the gabled building is like stepping back in time.

“Hi Grayson! Hey Seth!” A cute waitress calls out as soon as the little bell rings.

“Hi, Anne,” Seth calls back.

The waitress—seemingly named Anne—leans up against the counter, fluffing her hair. “Who are these lovely young ladies?” She asks flirtingly. I don’t know why it bothers me so much that’s she’s flirting with him, but it does. She’s easily four years older than him.

Grayson butts in. “Well, one of them’s my twin sister. I’m sure you can see the remarkable similarity.” I laugh. Grayson and I are as opposite as opposite can be. We are the prime example of how fraternal twins can be completely different. I’ve got curly blond hair, his is brown and stick-straight. My build leans towards tall and willowy, while he’s stocky and muscular. Nobody guesses that we’re even related.

Anne lets out a chuckle as well. “Of course. So lovely to finally meet the famous Shelby McKinney. And who is the other one?” Willa nervously raises her hand.

“Me?”

Anne looks at Willa in shock. “Wait, you’re not Shelby?”

Grayson turns back. “Anne, are you kidding me—wait, I kind of see it.” Willa kind of looks like Grayson. She’s got wavy brown hair but abuses it with a straightener every morning, so they look pretty similar today. I let out another laugh and raise my hand.

“This is the famous Shelby McKinney. That’s my friend Willa Robinson.” Anne’s eyes widen.

“Robinson? As in Robinson’s Ice Cream?” I sigh. There’s only one Robinson in town and of course it’s the crazy rich businessman who happens to be the father of my best friend. This happens everywhere we go. Willa says it bothers her, but she’s either too shy to stick up for herself, or doesn’t care that much.

“Yup, the one and the only. Do you like our ice cream?” asks Willa. Anne shakes her head.

“Haven’t been in years. Just recognized the name,” Anne responds, before going back to polishing the counter. We quickly find a booth without any rips or tears in the seats (few and far between, as I soon realize) and this time a meek teenager comes up to take our order. He can’t be more than a year older than us.

“S-so, how are you folks doing? Canna get you some drinks?” Seth and Grayson share a shifty look, before Seth answers.

“Do y’all still do the Mega Shake?”

I blush hearing his southern accent. As far as I know, he only pulls it out when he’s trying to act all sweet and reasonable. While I’ve never heard of the Mega Shake, I have a feeling there’s a reason he pulled out the accent.

The waiter’s eyes widen as he turns back to the kitchen.

“Meagan, there’s two boys out here askin’ for the Mega Shake,” he calls back. An older lady peeks out the kitchen doors with a smirk painted over her face.

“Huh. Been a while since we got some takers,” she says, looking straight at the boys.

Gray puts on his puppy-dog eyes that have worked on everyone from our dads to his chemistry teacher. It seems like the gingham-clad cook is the exception. She walks out, plastic gloves and hairnet still on.

“You boys know the rules,” she warns. Willa and I share a glance.

Is she serious? I mouth to Willa.

She continues. “One half-gallon of pure, honest milkshake. Whipped cream and cherries on top. If you finish it in an hour, the meal’s on us.”

Grayson’s face turns questioning. “Wasn’t it two hours, ma’am? At least it was last time…”

She turns to him. “Well, there’re two of you, ain’t it? Gotta make it harder somehow.”

Gray opens his mouth but Seth speaks before my twin can get a chance to refuse.

“We’ll take it, ma’am.” A grin spreads across the elderly lady’s face, and she claps her hands together.

“Well, then. I’ll get that ready for you two. Ladies, do y’all want anything? Dinner and a show for y’all today.”

I look up. “Sure, ma’am, we’ll take the most expensive thing y’all have got on the menu.”

I can do a mean southern accent because of theatre, and it comes in handy today. Gray looks me in the eyes, pleading. He knows if he loses at this milkshake game, it’s on his debit card.

“Shel—”

I stop him. “You better finish the dang milkshake. Or else the bill’s on you, and you know it.”

The waiter scribbles whatever I just ordered—what the hell did I just order?—and walks back to the kitchen. Meagan, satisfied at the lecture she just gave two teenage boys, shakes her head and follows him in, the plaid bow in her hair bouncing as she walks back. I cross my arms and give both of them a smirk.

After ten minutes of awkward conversation, the poor tiny waiter carries the biggest milkshake glass I’ve ever seen. Gray's eyes widen--I don't think he expected it'd be that big--but Seth just seems ready.

I burst out into laughter at their faces.

"Seth, have you been training for this?" I ask. He just smirks back and I blush once again. Why is it that his face does that to me?

Willa looks utterly smitten with him as he picks up an extremely oversized spoon.

"You ready, Gray?" he whispers. Grayson violently shakes his head but still picks up a spoon of his own. He carefully dips it into the thick mixture, and nervously takes his first bite--Seth does too, but his looks more like a slurp. Willa looks over at me. He still looks hot, she mouths. I roll my eyes, but she has a point.

They start with the mound of whipped cream, which looks so fluffy and light I wonder if it would feel like nothing at all. But after half of it, Gray looks ready to give up. Seth keeps shoveling into it, and he's pretty far down. He's gotten farther than the top layer of milkshake and is digging deeper by the second. Meanwhile, Gray has to sit back and breathe.

"Well, Gray. Remember the bill?" I smirk at him, and his face goes pale.

He takes a deep breath and goes back to eating, not ready to give up just yet. His debit card cannot afford the steak that our waiter is carrying out right now.

It looks...delicious. And expensive. Which is why, for my brother's sake, I hope they finish the milkshake. Good thing I only ordered one for me and Willa to share, or else Gray would be in serious debt by the end of this hour.

Willa doesn't even bat an eye at the expensive meal--this is basically her life, after all--but i just stare at it for a second. I feel almost a bit bad, but I blink a few times and pick up my fork.

And my God, it's heavenly. Melt-in-your-mouth delicious. Buttery and flavorful and better than anything Dad could make. I have no regrets.

But Seth and Gray seem to be having some right about now.

They're in the home stretch. There's maybe an eighth of the milkshake left and they've got fifteen minutes, but Gray looks sick and Seth has a blank look on his face that can only be one of inner pain.

I slam a hand on the table. "Gray. This was forty dollars. You have to pay for it SOMEHOW."

He shakes his head. "Shelb--I really can't. Seriously. I'd rather pay forty dollars and however much this stupid milkshake costs." Seth stands up.

"Gray, I'm not letting you pay like seventy dollars for this whole thing." He puts his hands on the table. "I'll eat it. I'll finish." Willa looks up at him with wide eyes.

"You will? That's--that's so brave of you." She bats her eyelashes, but Seth's too focused on the task at hand. He picks up his ridiculously giant spoon and takes five bites--and then it's finished. Within an hour.

It proves to me that Seth can do anything when money’s on the line.

Meagan has been peeking out through the kitchen door, but when Seth scrapes the last chunk of ice cream out of the glass, she walks out.

"Looks like this meal is on me, young man. Good job." Our waiter comes out with a bright pink t-shirt with the diner logo on it, that Seth puts on with pride. He looks surprisingly good in the color. On the back it says "I conquered the Mega Shake", and I swear he’s acting like he’s conquered the whole of Rome.

Our plates get cleared and we get up to leave, Seth's still proudly wearing his shirt and Willa is following him around like a lovelorn puppy. We've already decided she's staying over tonight, and we're having a good old-fashioned sleepover. It might not go exactly as we planned, seeing as she’s so obsessed with Seth right now, but that’s fine.

Either way, it'll be nice to have my best friend around. We've only got two years, then I'll probably leave for acting school and she'll stay here and run Robinson's. That's the plan, at least. She's been my best friend since forever and I don't know what I'd do without her. Even if sometimes she acts a little spoiled, or detached from reality.

That's what friends are for, right? To support and love each other forever and ever. No matter what crappy choices we make.