Eat with Charlie

Maggie drops off two plates, {if Same =true}both identical{endif}{if Eggs =true}an order of eggs and bacon, and a large breakfast sandwich{endif}{if BLT =true}a BLT, and a large breakfast sandwich{endif}.

{if Same =true}Turns out the ‘hangover special’ is a large breakfast sandwich. Trying it, Ethan thinks it’s pretty good, not really knowing what a breakfast sandwich ought to taste like, but enjoying it. Charlie devours hers quickly, getting it down so fast she might not be chewing. Trying not to gawk, Ethan thinks up conversation ideas.{endif}

{if Eggs =true}The eggs and bacon are picture-perfect, and Ethan almost feels bad taking his knife and fork to them. Until he gets it into his mouth, that is, then he starts to shovel it down. Charlie, somehow, already wolfed down her breakfast sandwich, finishing it so fast she might not have chewed. Trying not to gawk, Ethan thinks up conversation ideas.{endif}

{if BLT =true}The BLT looks just as good as he hoped it would be, and biting into only makes him regret not coming here sooner. The taste brings right back to a simpler time when his Grandpa would take him here after a day of some activity or another. Across the table Charlie is already done with her sandwich, getting it down so fast she might not have chewed. Trying not to gawk, Ethan thinks up conversation ideas.{endif}

“So,” he chews a bit, “Why did you ask if I’m single?”

Charlie shrugs. “Why does any woman ask that question?”

Ethan stops chewing, her jaw slacking.

“I’m kidding.” Charlie sips her coffee, smirking ear to ear.

“A-aha,” Ethan swallows. “Good.”

“Good?” Charlie's tone turns sharp. “Why is that good, Ethan?”

‘Fuck,’ Ethan thinks, dodging the pan but finding the fire. “I just mean… you know… I’m not your type…”

“So you give me shit for not knowing your type, then turn around and try to know mine?” Charlie’s eyes narrow.

“Uh… Am I your type?”

Charlie glares at Ethan, taking a long, slow sip of coffee. “Doesn't seem like it.”

Ethan chews on his food, and that last statement, for a moment. What is Charlie’s type? He’s tempted to ask, but doesn’t think he would get much in the way of an answer.

Glare breaking, Charlie leans back. “Change of topic?” She throws him a lifeline.

“Yeah, good idea…” Fuck he needed that. “Hey, uh, this is going to sound really stupid, b-”

“Most things you say are stupid.”

Ethan nods his head, walking right into that one. “Yeah. Sorry, uh, like I was saying, this is going to sound stupid, but I’m having the hardest time remembering the name of this kid we used to play with.”

Raising her brow, Charlie’s demeanor softens. “You talking about Bobby’s sister?”

“No,” he shakes his head. {If Alex Kiss =true} Not her.{endif}{if Alex Kiss 2 =true}DEFINITELY not her.{endif} “A boy, quiet one. Was with us all the time.”

Charlie’s lips twitch, her expression flicking. “Harry.”

“Harry!” Ethan nearly yells the name, having had it on the tip of his tongue. Harry was the quiet boy. The one in the background. The one who causes no trouble at all. The-

“He’s my ex,” Charlie leans back, her face an unreadable mask. “Broke my heart.”

“Ahhhhh, sh-” Ethan drags the syllable, suddenly feeling very awkward. “It…” Two for two on topics, Ethan suddenly feels like jumping out of a window. “I didn't…”

“You didn’t know. I know.” Charlie sighs. “It’s ancient history now.”

Ethan considers that for a moment. Asking would be, well, asking, and could be very awkward. Then again, it might prove a valuable resource for trying to parse out her type. Ethan surely has no reason to want to know that however.

Right?