You guys are going to Vegas. I want to come with.

She’s just a lonely teenager in a shitty town. Which, by the way, you realize we’d be kidnapping her.

LEAVING BORON BY AREL WIEDERHOLT KASSAR 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 127

Cole and Colleen walked into a cafe that was empty except for a couple at a table by the front window, eating burgers and fries and salad. The guy was older with a buzz cut, a red face and a buttoned-up vibe broken only some by the bright blue soda in front of him. The woman was a short Latina with shoulder length dyed hair the color of mud. She wore a hospital shirt patterned blouse and drank from a bottle of Budweiser. They weren’t talking to each other, just eating and looking at a closed-captioned telenovela on the TV on the wall, but they did pause to stare at the new arrivals when they walked in front of their table, eyeballs moving slow and smooth to follow them. Cole nodded and got no response, so he just stared back.

A girl came through the kitchen curtain and offered Cole and Colleen a seat wherever they liked. Colleen pointed at a table near the back.

The waitress put down plastic menus and asked what they were drinking.

Can we have a couple of waters, please, Colleen said.

The girl had braces and jet-black hair, lighter brown at the roots. She didn’t have an eyebrow piercing but looked like she probably should.

What beers do you have? Cole asked.

The girl closed one eye and looked halfway towards the ceiling. Budweiser, Bud Light, um, Modelo. Corona, Victoria, um, oh—

I’ll take a Modelo, Cole said. And then to Colleen: Beer? Colleen shook her head.

I’ll bring the drinks and give you guys a minute with the menus.

Thanks, Colleen said. The girl went back into the kitchen.

Cole leaned across the table, right up into his girlfriend’s face. He whispered: You think we should tell her that her braces aren’t gonna help with having way too many teeth in her mouth?

Colleen whacked him with the menu. Poor thing, she said, it was true that the girl’s mouth was overly stuffed with teeth and metal, and that there was something creepy about her.

Colleen glanced towards the kitchen to make sure the girl wasn’t eavesdropping on her mean thoughts. Cole looked over at the staring couple, and their heads snapped back to their plates.

Stop staring at them, Colleen said.

They’re staring at us.

She hit him again. Pick something, she said, let’s not dilly-dally in here.