Raphael looks up from the menu he’d been holding and almost chokes on his words.
The boy in front of him can’t be older than he is. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. He’s wearing a white apron and a white-pink striped button up shirt underneath to match the walls of the diner. His glasses are thick and black, but he doesn’t look nerdy in them like the boys he’d seen coming out of the local high school.