The five boys in suits sat in the Bickford's booth, two on each side and one in a chair at an end, staring at their cups of coffee. They were 16 and 17, all looking too big or too small for the suit their parents had found in their older brothers' or fathers' closets. The waitress came by to refill their cups ask if they planned to order food.
"I'm hungry," said Seth. "You guys hungry?"
"Kind of," said Eddie. He looked around the group. "You think it's appropriate?"
"We're not supposed to starve just because someone died," Marc said and grabbed the menu from the middle of the tablee.
"I know," said Eddie. "It's just weird, that's all."
"I can come back," said the waitress.
"No, let's order now," said Seth. "My dad said he'd pick me up by 6:00."
They each ordered a burger or sandwich with fries and sodas. The waitress collected the menus and the boys were left with each other again.
"Do you think they'll cancel practice?" Chris said.
"Dude! Seriously?" The reproaches were quick and the kicks under the table swift.
"Ow!" Chris said. "He was our coach. It's a fair question!"
"We should talk about our memories of him or something," Eddie said.
The boys looked at each other then looked down at their cups or across the room at the windows.
"They sort of already did all that at the wake," said Marc, pouring two creamers into his already light coffee. Everyone watched as he stirred the ripple of white into his cup. Outside a car alarm sounded and the boys shuffled in their seats, loosening their ties and tugging at legs of their khakis.
Jason, who had been sitting silently, spoke with his head still hung low. "I want to know why none of the adults will talk about what happened to him," he said.
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