I saw a diner that had been there since I was a kid—Benson’s—and suddenly realized I was starving. I made a quick turn and parked. A lot of days, I would cut class and come here. Most of the cool kids had spent time here, and I’d try to ingratiate myself with them: I had been a bookworm with no friends except a girl named Gates, and it seemed like my freshman year was spent trying to make more friends, until I’d finally given up.

I got a few stares because of the Tesla, and someone, a stranger, said hello to me.

Inside, the place hadn’t changed a bit. Country music on the speakers, old wooden tables with nicks and chunks missing, waitresses in short shorts. Still no hostess. I seated myself by the window and looked out. Across the street was a series of homes, all dilapidated, with trucks and trailers outside. One of the houses had a huge yard and sheep roaming around.

“Tatum?”

I looked up to see the chubby, instantly recognizable face of Roscoe Mallory approaching from another table.

“Roscoe?”

I held out my hand and he gave me a hug. He smelled like leather.

“Easy, big fella,” I said.

He wore a massive grin and sat down without being asked. While I was growing up, he lived just a few houses down from me. Aside from maybe an extra sixty pounds, he looked the same as the last time I’d seen him. The hug was interesting since I think we’d talked maybe half a dozen times our entire lives and had never considered each other friends.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Just passing through, I guess. How you been? Last time I saw you, you were trying to get onto SUU’s football team.”

He nodded and looked away, out the window. “That didn’t work out so well. I got hurt my first year, real bad. Broken back. Had to learn to walk again.”

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry.”

The grin came back as he looked at me. “It worked out. I coach at RF High now. You remember Nikyee Geller?”

“Not really.”

“Well, she was Nikyee Mallory for a while. We’re divorced now.”

“Sorry about that. I know those aren’t easy.”

He shrugged bashfully. “So how have you been? I know you’re a big-time celebrity lawyer. I just saw you on TV with that basketball player that was caught with all them guns.”

“Allegedly caught with those guns. He was acquitted.”

“Yeah,” he said, not really getting what I was saying. “Hey, you remember Gates?”