"What do you mean, we're going to Jerry's? It's nearly midnight, Red—"

"Who gives a shit—I'm hungry. So, are you coming with, or are you gonna stay here—alone, for the next two hours?" Red knew that once he mentioned Beverly having to stay home alone for nearly two hours,

"No, no. I'm going."

Beverly ran back beside him bed, and slipped on his only pair of shoes. Red watched—meanwhile, trying his best to stop his lips from curling at the sight of Beverly. He couldn't smile at him—Red never smiled.

Once Beverly had kicked himself into his sneakers, and slithered one of Red's borrowed sweaters, he greeted Red with a bright, contagious grin. "I'm all good to go."

The ride there was slow, yet awkward—just as dinner had been. Why was Beverly so immune to having a normal, non-awkward conversation with Red?

Well, today's reason had been Red's invasive questions about his conversation with Ed. He wished he could go back in time, and plainly tell Red the truth—even if he cried for no reason at all. Just out of mere fear of Red's reaction.

Red's truck pulled into the parking lot of Jerry's Diner, meanwhile, Beverly grasped tightly onto the door handle. "Come on," Red smirked at Beverly's heaving chest. "I'm fucking hungry, let's move."

Beverly hopped from the door, watching as Red held the walk-in door for him. The mere action had Beverly flushing, and struggling to find something—anything say.

"T-Thank you, R-Red."

"Anytime, Bev."