Okay, so this is completely random. It really makes no sense and it's my first Veronica Mars fic. I have no clue why I even wrote this. Tell me it wasn't a complete waste of my time and I'll be happy. Proceed
The blond haired boy has sat at the counter everyday for a week. He comes at about noon and stays until closing, always drinking coffee. At about 12:30 he would order an omelet and at six a burger. The diner was just outside of Neptune; it was where people didn't make 2.4 million a year. It was in a city called Dallas, not Texas, but California. Today marked day number eight of the tall blond boy's visits to the diner.
The waitress walks over to him and asks if he's ready to order. She already knows the answer. It is only 12 so he'll order coffee.
"Umm, yeah" The boy says. "I'll have a coffee and French Toast."
"Shaking things up a bit?" She asks. She promptly returns with his coffee. "You've been here every day for a week. Can I let you in on a little secret?"
"Sure."
"You look sad. This isn't the best place to be sad."
"Why not?" the blond asks.
"Because, Americans eat when they're upset. See that guy over there?" She points to a large man in a booth near the back of the diner. He was eating his third plate of pancakes. "He lost his job three years ago and his wife left him two months later. He has been coming here all the time since. He eats and eats. We serve a lot of carby food, so it's not good to come here depressed."
"You're funny." The blond says. "I'm Dick. What's your name?"
"Lauren." They shake hands. "So, Dick, what seems to be troubling you? I'm no bartender, but I should be for all the things people tell me."
"Everything. Have you read the newspaper lately. I mean, it's full of road side bombings and murders." he grabs the paper on the stool next to him. The headline reads Local Boy Plummets to Own Death. "Suicides."
"Yeah. That poor boy. The article says he was abused by a baseball coach. How could his family not have noticed."
"Maybe he was really good at hiding it." Dick sighs. "Or maybe his family just wasn't paying attention."
"Do you go to Hearst?" Lauren asks. "You look really familiar. My cousin goes there and I visit her every other weekend. She's a Beta Theta."
"Yeah. I'm a Pi Sig. We have parties together all the time." Dick says. "Have you ever been to one?"
"Yeah. I've been to one, but I'm a good kid. I'm not 21, so I don't drink. I left after like 20 minutes."
"How old are you?" Dick asks.
"I'm 17."
"Really? Well, when you're 18, promise me I'll have a chance."
"Okay," Lauren smiles "You don't seem like the typical frat boy,"
"I'm not. I mean, ever since like seventh grade, everyone was finding themselves or whatever. I didn't know who I wanted to be, so I tried a few things out. I tried the studious guy, the jock and the nice guy. When those didn't take, I decided on the guy who has loads of money and will use it. At Neptune High, we were called 09ers." Dick sighs again. "But that's the Anti-Dick. I'm not some guy who just drinks Friday through Thursday. My brother, he was always the smart one, and people still liked him. Remember like five seconds ago when I showed you the newspaper? That was him. Cassidy Casablancas. He was my brother."
"I'm sorry. I had no idea."
"Yeah. Well, since he died, I decided that I didn't want to be that 09er anymore. I wanted to be more like him. So now I'm taking my life seriously. I put on this facade and pretend to be some total jackass, but I'm really not. I'm just a guy."
"Order up!" the cook calls.
Lauren gives Dick his food and he devours it. She hands him a paper and speaks softly as he pays and gets up to leave. "Call me sometime. But call as Dick, not Anti-Dick."
"Dick will defiantly call." He says, opening the door and stepping out, back into the real world. On his way back to Neptune and to the Anti-Dick.