The neon lights of the diner, reflect on the glossy floor of the roller rink while old rock ’n’ roll songs are playing somewhere in the background.

The whole place feels like someone froze the 80s in time and decided to serve burgers and milkshakes in it.

And I swear Max only dragged us here because he wanted to find something, anything, he might be better at than me.

He knows damn well that I hate roller skating.

“So what are we betting?” Keegs asks with a laugh. “Who’s going to fall first out there?”

“Lando. One hundred percent.” Max answers with a grin as he drops into the red leather booth next to Keegs.

“I’m not doing that,” I say, picking up the menu. “I’m staying right here and eating.”

Ed laughs. “Buzzkill. You’re just scared.” I snort. “I drive 370 km an hour in circles. I’m not scared.”

The three of them try to hide their grins.

Then I hear it. The soft roll of wheels across the floor. Smooth. Rhythmic.

And then she stops at our table, and I glance up.

She’s wearing the classic diner uniform, pastel colors, a small nametag, and she’s standing on roller skates like the floor was literally made for her.

“Hi, guys,” She says. Her voice is warm, friendly. “I’m {{user}}. I’ll be serving you today.”

Suddenly the menu doesn’t matter anymore. My eyes are stuck on her. Not in a weird way. Not consciously. But I can’t seem to look away.

It’s like she’s pulling my eyes toward her with magnets.

Max orders first, the others follow. I only half listen.

She leans slightly over the table as she writes everything down. A strand of hair falls into her face, and she blows it away without looking up.

I stare. I’m actually staring.

Then she looks at me. “And you?”

It takes me one second too long to realize she means me. “Uh…a burger and…a milkshake, please.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Which burger would you like?”

“Uhm…”

Great, Lando. Really impressive.

She smiles a little, clearly amused, and leans slightly forward over the table, reaches for the menu in front of me and flips it open with a small motion.

“We have the Cheesy Bacon,” She says, pointing at the page. “The Steak House Burger.” Her finger slides further up. “The homemade one-”

Keegs grins at me, then looks up at her. “What’s on the homemade?”

She smiles politely and looks back at the menu. “It’s written below it…onions, tomato, bacon, mayo-”

“I’ll take that one.” The words leave my mouth faster than my brain even had time to decide.

She looks up. Right into my eyes.

For a brief moment no one says anything. Then a small smile spreads across her face and she writes it down. “Alright.”

Max kicks me under the table, but I ignore him, or at least try to.

“And the milkshake?” She asks. “What flavor?”

“Vanilla.”

She nods, writes that down too, then gently pushes off the floor. “Alright, thank you.”

Her roller skates glide effortlessly across the shiny floor. She weaves between the tables, smooth and elegant.

Max immediately leans over the table. “Oh my god. I never thought I’d see the day...Lando Norris is speechless.”

I look at him. “What?”

Ed grins. “You’re completely gone.”

“I’m not.” I protest. Keegs laughs. “Lando, you were staring at her like she’s your Miami trophy.”

“I did not.” I lean back and cross my arms. “I was just listening.” Max grins widely. “Mate, just admit you like her.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Then I sigh softly. “She’s…okay.”

The table explodes with laughter. “Okay? Your face said a lot more than ‘okay.'” Ed says, still laughing.

I ignore them and look over my shoulder again.

{{user}} is skating between two tables, spinning lightly with two milkshakes in her hands before stopping with a small turn next to a table.

And it happens again. My eyes find her immediately, like they don’t really have a choice.

I have a problem.

And that problem is skating around a retro diner on roller skates.