Elizabeth would’ve sold a kidney for a slice of pie and some ice cream. She pulled up to Bunsen’s Burgers in her Toyota Camry and barely waited to throw the car in park before she opened the door. She’d just gotten out of the gym; her hair still wet from the shower. Something about exercising made her crave sweets. The neon pink sign out front of the retro 50s-inspired diner was blinding as she pushed through the door. She knew she should eat a good burger first, but she liked to order her dessert before anything. She hated to get too full to enjoy the best part of her meal.

Inside smelled of burgers, meatloaf, and other classic American comfort food. A wraparound countertop surrounded by stools was the centerpiece of the restaurant, with red vinyl booths lining the walls. Tucked into a corner sat a dim jukebox, nonfunctional for years. Instead, the owner played Dean Martin’s Ain’t That a Kick in the Head from a Bluetooth speaker, which satisfied the regular customers, there for the coffee and atmosphere.

Elizabeth didn’t match that atmosphere particularly well. She was dressed in her post–workout clothes: gray sweatpants, a baggy maroon t-shirt, and sneakers. Her wet, chestnut hair draped to the center of her shoulder blades. It wasn’t cold enough outside for the wind to freeze it yet, but the Boston winter was coming; she could feel the chill in the air.

She waved hello to Jenny behind the counter as she strode toward the usual spot, two tables left. Her former basketball team sat in their booth, or at least three of them, all wearing similar get-ups to her own.

“Look who decided to show up,” a barely audible, full-mouthed Jules said.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and slid into the booth next to her. Jules was her roommate and workout partner. She was more muscular than Elizabeth, though she would never admit it. She watched in silent judgment as Jules took a giant bite out of her burger, filling her mouth once more. Her hair had ketchup in it from her plate, where she’d already demolished the fries that came with her meal. For Jules’ many strengths, cleanliness was never one of them.

“Sorry, my car was acting up again,” Elizabeth said while she got the attention of the nearest server.

“You’ve got to get rid of that old thing, Liz; it’s a death trap,” Kaylee said. She sat across from Elizabeth, next to Chloe.

“I don’t know, I kind of like the ‘my brakes might not work when I hit the pedal’ vibe,” said Chloe. “It makes driving much more exciting.”

Chloe and Kaylee were sisters; they were identical even though they were born a year apart. Both had curly black hair, angular faces, average heights, and annoyingly gorgeous emerald eyes.

“I don’t use it often enough to replace it, but someone in the group has to drive you losers around,” Elizabeth said, “and it’s cheaper than calling a cab.”

“I suppose so. You excited for the game tomorrow? You’re gonna take Hofstra down,” said Jules, mouth once again full of burger. Jules and Elizabeth had been on the team for a year, but both ended up leaving when their third semester started.

Her words were muffled as she pushed the food to the side of her cheek to speak.

“Do you have to do that?” Kaylee winced as Jules opened her full mouth.

“No one is gonna take it from you.”

Jules’ chin moved to respond, but she stopped herself and swallowed first.

“I eat fast; I’m sorry. What do you want from me?” She took another gigantic bite.

“Maybe don’t show everyone when you’re doing it?” said Elizabeth.

She finally caught the notice of the server. He looked to be about twenty, with curly brown hair and a backwards hat. His inner right arm had a tattoo of a rose that he rubbed to draw attention to. He took her order and leisurely walked back to the kitchen. As soon as he left, Chloe leaned over the table to Jules and Elizabeth.

“I heard that he was dealing. Wanna see if we can score anything fun from him?” Her voice rose in an excited whisper. Chloe always talked about how she wanted to try ecstasy, but the hardest thing she’d done was crossed drinking and smoking.

“Oh, come on, skater-boy? It looks like the most he’s ever dealt is a pack of cigarettes he stole from his dad. He doesn’t have anything fun,” Kaylee retorted.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, try and score some hard stuff when you have a game tomorrow. Really smart,” Elizabeth said.

“Neither of you are any fun,” Chloe said, dejected. “How about you?” She turned to Jules. “You ready to party?”

Jules, mouth full of her last bite of burger, went to speak again and caught herself. She instead shrugged and focused her attention on her strawberry milkshake.

“Well, either way, I’m going to go talk to him. He’s kind of cute. And I bet he at least has some weed.” Chloe motioned for Kaylee to let her out.

“Um, no. Weed or no, he is not cute. Sit down, sweetie; we have higher standards than that,” Kaylee said, who didn’t budge from her spot.

As the inevitable argument began between the sisters over “skater-boy,” Elizabeth decided it was a good time to stop listening. She glanced around Bunsen’s, at the people, the décor, the food; it was what she usually did whenever the two bickered. A man at the bar caught her eye.

He was an older man, probably mid-fifties. He sat near the end of the counter where it curved toward the wall, which granted him a view of the entire restaurant. The man had gray, slicked-back hair and a chiseled, lined face. She didn’t know much about suits, but the dark charcoal one he had on was clearly too expensive to wear while he ate a six-dollar hamburger. It was perfectly ironed and had two buttons, both undone. He wore a matching vest underneath, and under that, a white collared shirt. A black tie matched his shoes and his watch, which he oddly had on backwards, so the face was on the inside of his wrist. With his tan peacoat hung nearby, he appeared to come from the era of the diner’s founding.

But the ring on his right middle finger drew her most. It was elegant, a black band that seemed to wrap itself around infinitely. She thought back to the geometry class she’d taken in high school when the teacher talked about Mobius strips. It reminded her of that. Possibly an illusion, she could’ve sworn the ring faintly glowed. Not consistently or constantly, but an occasional warm, yellow flicker as if it caught the light and reflected it oddly. But the restaurant lacked any radiance to explain the reflection.

“Liz, are you paying attention at all?”

Elizabeth returned her focus to the group. She had no idea who spoke.

“Not in the slightest,” she said.

Chloe sighed.

“I said, what do you think of him? Cute, or no?”

Skater-boy stood by the kitchen, near the man she’d been watching.

It was Elizabeth’s turn to sigh.

“Not my type.” Her attention drifted back to the older man.

He now returned her stare, eyes narrowed as he bit into his burger. She smiled at him, and he smiled back while he chewed before returning his gaze to his sandwich.

“Turns out her type is senior citizen,” Jules whispered to the table.

“Think about it: handicap tags, discounts, bingo tournaments every weekend. Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Elizabeth shot at her roommate without hesitation. Laughter rang as the door opened, the jingling bell cut through the kitchen’s noise.

BANG.

The sound ripped through her head. A sharp metallic explosion, like a car backfiring. Everything else went silent as a high-pitched ringing filled the air. She shut her eyes and ducked down. Her hands covered her ears to block out as much of the sound as she could. The diner smelled burnt and acrid. Her eyes watered.

Elizabeth blinked and looked around frantically. Matching terror registered on her friend’s faces. The thirty patrons she could see scrambled for cover. She turned around towards the door.

In the center of the restaurant stood two men. One spun to face the crowd, something in his raised hand. Horrified, she realized he held a gun.

Editor: Shannon Hensley