Joan was about to ignore Max and just walk past him into the diner, but she figured she should at least acknowledge his existence before going to work to avoid getting into a fight.

"Hey," Joan said coldly as she walked past her old friend.

She touched the handle to open the door, but Max stopped her by pushing it back.

"I need to talk to you," Max pleaded.

His eyes were bloodshot, and the dark circles around them made him look terrible, like he'd just finished crying. It had only been a few hours since she'd last seen him—what happened between now and then?

"I have to go to work, Max. Unlike your spoiled ass. So can you move your fucking hand?"

Max didn't move his hand, insisting silently. Joan tried budging the door, but he was a lot stronger. Angered, Joan lifted her right leg and stomped on Max's hand.

"Fuck!" he whimpered.

Unfazed, Joan continued putting her weight on his hand.

"Wait, wait, okay, okay, stop. Please. I'll move," Max begged.

Joan rolled her eyes and lowered her foot. Max quickly pulled his hand away and brought it close to his chest. "Ahhhh, God dammit."

Joan reached for the door again, but Max stopped her with a plea. "Please, Jojo. I just need to talk to you. Just for 20 minutes. Please. It's about Robin."

"Why the fuck would I talk to you about Robin?" Joan arched an eyebrow, mocking him. "Mind your business and go hang out with your new friends." Her attitude had completely shifted since talking to Robin at school. She was angry at Max for hurting her friend. She was upset that he didn't even have the decency to respond to her feelings, even if he didn't like her back.

"She's in danger, and I need your help. Please." That caught Joan's attention. Her shoulders relaxed, and her face softened slightly, though the anger inside her still burned.

"The fuck do you mean she's in danger?"

"I'll tell you if you give me the time to talk to you. Please. For Robin? I can only talk to you about this."

Max looked desperate, like a beaten dog with nowhere to go, no one to trust. Joan began to feel bad for him—and worried for Robin. Max was an inconsiderate asshole, but he wasn't a liar.

"I need to work, so if you want to talk, you need to come into the diner as a customer. And you don't get 20 minutes; you get 10. Plus, you have to order the most expensive thing on the menu and give me a 100% tip." Joan dictated.

Max's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course. Anything."

Joan looked at Max cautiously as she entered the diner. "Don't order anything until I come out."Max nodded and walked in behind her.

The diner's inside was as vibrant as its exterior—a classic '50s diner with red leather chairs. The floors and tables were blindingly white, making the diner seem out of place in the middle of the city.

There were only two customers, an elderly couple sharing fries and milkshakes at a booth in the back.

Joan pointed to the counter and told Max, "Sit there while I get changed."

Max followed her instructions and sat at the counter as Joan headed to the back.

Behind the counter, Joan saw an old, skinny, bald man in a greasy apron scrolling through his Helix. The lights reflecting off the stainless steel made his head look like a light bulb.

"Hey, Butter. Is Jackie here?" Joan asked.

It was a joke to call the skinny old chef "Butter." No one really knew why, but Joan figured it was because he looked greasy and shiny. People had been calling him Butter for so long, Joan didn't even know his real name.

Butter glanced at her. "She just left. Said you're coming."

"Thanks."

Joan's only coworker besides Butter was Jackie, a petite twenty-something with shoulder-length blonde hair and the personality of a yappy little dog. Jackie always left just before Joan arrived, especially on days she'd made enough tips to go out with her friends.

Joan didn't mind her. Jackie did her job well—she just wished she'd stay a bit longer so Joan didn't feel so rushed.

Joan placed her hands on a wall pad by the door, her Helix lighting up as it said:

Welcome to Jenny's Diner, employee 0003. Please leave your hands on the pad until you have completely changed.

In a second, Joan's clothes morphed into a 50s-themed diner waitress outfit: a red-and-white striped dress with a tiny apron, roller skates, and a small red cap on her newly bobbed hair.

Even small diners like Jenny's had Helix upgrades to help employees change quickly. The soft fabric felt nice, and it made Joan feel special, even though it wasn't her own personal upgrade.

Joan smoothed her dress, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her skin. Her mood lifted until she saw Max's face again.

"Ugh," she groaned.

Max sat at the counter, elbows propped up, head buried in his hands. He looked up, a small smile tugging at his sad, tired face as Joan skated over.

"So," Joan began. "You're ordering the double burger with large fries, a large shake, and an apple crumble to go. Okay?"

Max nodded. "Is the apple crumble for Robbie later?"

"First of all, that's none of your fucking business. Second, don't fucking call her Robbie. You don't deserve it," Joan shot back.

Robin didn't let a lot of people call her Robbie. Only her family, and close friends were allowed. And Max was not even considered a friend anymore.

"God, fine." Max rubbed his eyes. "Just—listen to me, okay? I'm giving you a 100% tip. You're basically robbing me. Ha! Robbing. Robbie."

Max's laughter at his own joke irritated Joan, but she decided to let it slide. A free apple pie to bring to Robin and a 100% tip was worth it.

"Butter! One double burger with large fries, a large shake, and an apple pie to go!" Joan yelled toward the kitchen.

"Coming right up," Butter called back.

Joan turned to Max, checking to see if he'd change his mind and leave. He didn't—just sat there, looking miserable and close to tears again.

"Okay, so what do you want to say? Oh, also, Helix, set a 10-minute timer," Joan said, tapping her ear.

Ten-minute timer, starting now, Helix replied.

Max rubbed his hands together nervously. "Robin's in danger."

"Mmkay, I know that. You told me earlier," Joan replied quickly.

"Just shut up and listen. You don't understand. Everything is a misunderstanding." Max blabbered on, his breathing quickening and tears welling up. He started repeating, "You don't understand, you don't understand," rocking back and forth.

Joan was taken aback, unsure of what to do. Max looked like he was truly suffering.

"Hey, look." Joan touched her perfectly styled hair nervously. "You can talk to me about it. Plus, if it's about Robin, I need to know."

She wasn't sure if Max was telling the truth or seeking attention, but if there was any chance he was serious, she needed to know.

"You seem angrier than earlier. Did Robin finally tell you what happened?" Max asked, calming slightly. He was still fidgeting but seemed a bit more stable.

Joan nodded. "What does that have to do with Robin being in danger?"

"Well," Max paused, "that was the day it all started." He began picking at his nails, peeling the skin until it bled.

"After Robin told me her feelings, I got so nervous and happy I felt like throwing up. I didn't want to do that in front of her; that'd be embarrassing."

Joan raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Then why the hell did you stop talking to us and join those assholes?"

"I'm getting there. And they're not all assholes, so change what you call them."

"No, I will keep calling them assholes, thank you. But please, continue."

Max's new friends were rich, good-looking, and obnoxious, often ridiculing others. Joan hated them for it.

"I wanted to tell her how I felt, but I needed liquid courage first, so I went to Tern's club. He always gives me free drinks, so I was downing a few before going back to Robin's."

Joan had a lot to say about his logic, but she stayed silent, nodding occasionally to show she was listening.

"Tern gave me a few shots, and I swear I was heading back to Robin's. But that's when Bryson's guys grabbed me."

Bryson, the leader of Max's new crowd, was tall, rich, and rude. He often flirted with Robin, only to be ignored.

"They took me to the back of the club," Max said, breaking the silence just as Joan's Helix timer blared.

"Then what happened?" she asked over the noise.

"This," Max whimpered, lifting his sleeve.