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I look around the group, sensing this might be an important question. “Absolutely. Pancakes, waffles, French toast—they’re all awesome.”

“Carbs and sugar,” Logan says almost to himself.

“But you can’t equate waffles to pancakes,” Sanjiv says. “And French toast is a totally different category.”

“She doesn’t know. She hasn’t had the pancakes yet,” Mark explains, almost like he’s making an excuse for me after I’ve been rude.

“You’re ordering them,” Sanjiv says, stern.

“Plus, the cook likes Sloane, so he always adds extra pancakes to our orders.”

“We’ve already made them promise to be nice to himindefinitely because I’m not going back to the three-pancake stack when I’ve grown accustomed to five,” Mark says.

A swinging door to the kitchen flies open and Sloane walks over, carrying water glasses. I don’t know why I thought they might be in a hair net or wearing a white apron, but they look just the same as always. Dark ripped jeans, gray shirt, and their striped rainbow hat. To my surprise, they’re also wearing one of the d20 necklaces Kashvi and I made before the last game. We’d given it to them, but Sloane doesn’t usually wear jewelry.

“The whole crowd made it,” Sloane announces as they pass out the waters. “I see you’ve been pulled over to the dark side, Quinn.”

“And I’ve been told—without exception—that I’ll be ordering the pancakes.”

“You can’t go wrong with those.” Sloane looks around the table. “Same for everyone?”

They all agree.

“You won’t have to stay in the back long, right?” Kashviasks.

Sloane looks around the empty restaurant. “No, I’ll be back in a second. But I’m on silverware duty while it’s dead so you’ll be helping.”

They come back a few moments later with a huge stack of paper napkins and a tray of silverware. “Okay, so just take a napkin and wrap it around a knife and fork, tucking in the edges as you go.” Sloane demonstrates. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, as long as you don’t lick the silverware.”

We all grab napkins and get to work.

“Hey, did you hear about the event the comic book store in Zanesville is putting on next Sunday?” Sanjiv asks.

We all shake our heads.

“They’re bringing in a few big comic book writers and artists and they’re doing a full-day event. Costume contests, signings, sales, tournaments, food trucks. What do you think? Should we try to go?”

“Hell yes,” Mark says immediately. Logan and Sloane nod enthusiastically, and I assume Kashvi’s already on board since Sanjiv’s relaying the info.

My mouth is clamped shut. Zanesville is only about twenty minutes from where I used to live. Would Caden show up at something like this? Would he bring Paige with him? Even the remote possibility of being face to face with them again has my stomach rioting.

“Quinn?” Sanjiv asks. “You in?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no way to know if Caden and Paige will be there. But I don’t remember Caden being into comics. Maybe I’m being paranoid.

Sloane and Mark nod encouragingly and Kashvi shakes my arm. “It’ll be so fun!”

“You should come,” Logan says quietly.

I’m incapable of fighting them all. I shouldn’thaveto be worried about this. I don’t want to live my life hiding from my ex-friends.

“Let’s do it,” I announce with a smile.

“Awesome! Maybe my parents will let me drive their van,” Mark says. “Then we can all go together.”

A bell rings in the kitchen. “Orders up!” the cook calls from a little window.

“Hand ’em over.” Sloane takes the silverware from us. “Technique could use some work, but I appreciate the effort.”