The fast-food place Nicole had insisted on was pure chaos. Kids darted between the sticky booths like caffeinated squirrels, their shrieks of laughter occasionally interrupted by a stern parent's scolding.
A frazzled cashier juggled an endless line of orders, the sound of beeping fryers and the hiss of soda machines blending into a cacophony of grease-scented madness.
The air was thick with the smell of fried everything, clinging to my clothes the moment I stepped inside.
I stopped just past the entrance, my regret growing by the second. Bright primary colors coated every inch of the restaurant, from the garish red booths to the obnoxiously cheerful posters advertising new "limited edition" milkshake flavors.
This was so far removed from my usual haunts it might as well have been another planet.
Nicole practically skipped ahead, throwing an arm around Maya and grinning back at me. "Come on, Zaya. Don't look so scared. It's just food!"