Crap. He groaned, spying his friends piling out of Leo’s flatbed, including Delilah.

“Chloe, wait here.” Max looked at Vera. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Vera nodded, shifting down on the picnic bench to offer his sister a spot. Then Vera reached into the galvanized tub and pulled out a kids’ menu, which featured an octopus in a sailor hat. She handed Chloe the complimentary crayons. “What color should we make him?”

Max grabbed his dirty Mets hat off the register and headed toward his friends in the gravel lot, who were joking at a volume that made his sister seem muted.

“Maxwell!” Jackson swung his arms wide and barreled in for a hug, but he tripped over his flip-flops, catching himself just shy of falling on his face. “My bad!” He bounced up smiling.

“What are you guys doing here?” Max asked, adjusting his brim in the noonday sun.

“We’re here to rescue you,” said Leo. “From boredom.”

“Shheriously, the day’s too nice for you to be stuck inside.” Delilah batted her lashes, which looked twice as long as they had last week. “Come hang out with us.”

She tugged at the string tying her bikini around her neck. Her suit was covered (somewhat) by a loose-fitting tank top with armholes cut for a professional wrestler. She shifted her frame, offering Max a glimpse of her curvy figure.

“I’m working.” He looked at his feet.

“Please, is there even anyone in there?” Jackson plopped a sweaty palm on Max’s shoulder, his beer breath smacking him across the face. “Just close up. Screw it!” He peered into the restaurant, and Max sidestepped, hoping to block Jackson’s view of Vera.

“Dude, we feel bad you’re here all day.” Leo ran his hand through his spiky black hair. “When are you off?”

“Late. We’re short-staffed.”

“You have, like, one customer,” Jackson mocked, not caring how rude he was.

“It’s just…” Max fiddled with his hat, still trying to block Jackson’s sight line. “I got a lot going on. Chloe’s friend dropped her off early.”

“Sho? Where’sh your mom?” Delilah asked, slurring slightly.

“Not feeling well.”

He looked at Leo, clearly the only sober one in the group and the only friend who bothered to check up on him. Max tried to communicate telepathically: Leave. Now. Please. But Leo’s eyes narrowed and his gaze flicked to the restaurant’s interior. Then his face shifted. So did Jackson’s and Delilah’s.

“Dude!” Leo yelped, eyebrows pressed high above his sunglasses.

“Holy shit! Is that Demonic Barbie?” Jackson shouted, fist kissing his mouth. “I knew it! I knew it when you were looking at her in school! You’ve gotta thing for the ghoul!”

Jackson’s voice couldn’t have been louder if he were holding a megaphone and pom-poms.

Max’s stomach formed a slipknot. “It’s not like that. She just came in for lunch.”

“Is she sitting with your shister?” Delilah slurred, sounding offended that Vera was with his family, like she thought Vera was his girlfriend. It wasn’t like that. But he couldn’t exactly tell them what it was like, either.