Page 12 of Long Live the King
???
An hour later, we exit the main building with our schedules in hand. We made it there safely, despite Thayer’s best attempts at introducing the cart to the ditch on the side of the street.
“I really don’t think it’s my fault. I mean, what kind of school has such tight corners on their campus roads? It’s like they’re asking for aTokyo Driftrepeat.”
“Okay Vin Diesel, that doesn’t mean you have to crank the wheel all the way to the right when you’re turning. I’m personally trying to avoid a Paul Walker repeat.”
“Dark joke, but I respect it.”
The four of us take the next ten minutes to compare our schedules against each other’s. I’m relieved to see that I’ll have a couple classes with Thayer and Nera before their sports-focused afternoons, and the majority of my remaining classes with Six.
“Now it’s time for an RCA tradition.” Nera says as we walk back to the miraculously intact golf cart. “The day you pick up your schedule, it’s customary to get a Malteser milkshake atBella’s. You’ll see, they’re delicious.”
“Who’s Bella?”
Sixtine laughs. “Bella’sis one of the two restaurants on campus. It’s run by an American couple who moved to Switzerland when they retired. Bored out of their minds two years later, they opened Bella’s. The Malteser milkshake is their specialty.”
“That sounds so good, I’m down.”
“And since schedules have been posted for almost two weeks, there should only be a few other last minute arrivals there so no crazy wait time.” Six adds.
We get back in the golf cart, Thayer occupying the much safer left back seat position, and head toBella’s. A warm feeling fills me when I walk in. It’s a traditional American diner with red leather seats, booths against the windows and a bar facing the open plan kitchen. A vintage jukebox stands to the right of a Pac Man machine. The staff are dressed in classic red and white uniforms and are buzzing around the space tending to customers.
“This place is so cool.” I say, still taking it all in.
“I thought you’d like it.” Sixtine replies as she walks to the counter. “Hey, Bella!”
Bella, who I assume is the eponymous owner of the diner, turns at the sound of her name and gives Six a warm smile. “Hey, hon.”
Her accent is thick and soothing like honey. I’d guess that she’s from one of the Carolinas. She’s in her early 70s, with dark hair streaked with gray and a sparkle in her eye that makes her look younger.
“This is Bellamy and Thayer.” I give her a small wave. “They just arrived from Chicago yesterday.”
“Well, welcome, girls! Are you here for your Maltesers shake?”
“You know it. Can we get them to go?” She turns towards me. “I was thinking we could go drink them by the pond?”
“That sounds great.”
“You bet. I’ll put extra whipped cream on top as a little welcome treat.” She says with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
She reappears ten minutes later carrying two tall to go cups topped with about five inches of whipped cream and chocolate.
“Wow, thank you. These look so good.” And I’m not lying. These milkshakes look like they could single handedly bring about world peace if put on the table during diplomatic talks.
As Sixtine pays, I bring the first two to Nera and Thayer who’ve been chatting outside, taking advantage of the gorgeous day.
“Holy shit.” Thayer says, taking the cup I hand to her. “She wasn’t exaggerating about the welcome whipped cream.”
“Personally, it’s the best welcome I’ve ever had. Sorry Nera, I already know without having tasted it that it’s going to dethrone beer and pizza night.”
“I knew I should have pulled out the champagne and caviar combo.”
I laugh. “Hold on, I’m going to get the other two.”
Back inside, I find Six putting her wallet back in her purse as she grabs one of the two cups. “Ready?”
“Sure am.”