[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#A67846]Kenny Sokoloski[/color][/h3][hr][sup]Rushford: Jenkin’s Diner  ||  May 7th[/sup][center][indent] [/indent][/center]
Kenny shifted in the booth she lay in, her eyes closed in stubborn hope that sleep might come again. It wasn’t until the smell of coffee hit her nose that she finally sat up, accepting the faint sunlight. From what she could see, Karen was up, as was Katie, the former digging through a creamer basket and the latter looking as tired as she was the day before, if not more. Though Kenny doubted any of the group slept well, Katie seemed to be having an especially rough time. There were little hints—the disarray of the diner, her general lack of liveliness, the shovel beside the mop in the hallway—but Kenny hadn’t asked, hadn’t wanted to ask. They’d all taken blows in the last week, and asking about someone else’s forced her to consider her own.

[color=#A67846]“I’ll help too,”[/color] she said after Lena’s offer, sliding off the booth shakily but readily. Her hands went up to adjust her ponytail as she walked towards the kitchen, glancing at Katie and Karen. She wasn’t much for making food, but she could grab ingredients and set up silverware just fine, and she’d done the same for the past few days. 

[color=#A67846]“I think I saw some milk in the back,”[/color] she said as she walked past the counter. [color=#A67846]“Not sure about creamer, but I can check.”[/color]

The storage room was markedly darker than the main room of the diner, lacking windows aside from a single one on the door in. Overhead were lights Kenny chose not to turn on, opting instead to head straight for the fridge, which thankfully had its own light. Inside was a meager assortment of ingredients as well as two jugs of milk, one half-empty and one unopened. Shifting those aside, she managed to retrieve a rather light bottle of french vanilla creamer. A shake confirmed it was almost empty, and Kenny shut the fridge door behind her with some resignation before heading back to the front.

[color=#A67846]“This is all I could find,”[/color] she said, sliding the bottle across the counter towards Karen. The smell of coffee was still in the air, distinct and comforting, reminding Kenny of the weekend mornings when she’d bring her brother by for a free brunch. Old Man Jenkins was kind enough to not bat an eye, provided their mother cover their table, and Kenny enjoyed watching her brother drown his pancakes in syrup. 

All that remained of those days was the smell of coffee, which hadn’t changed a bit. It was almost strange how familiar the smell was, how warm yet cold it made her feel, and she forced an easy smile that didn’t touch her eyes when Henry spoke. [color=#A67846]“Sure, lemme pop those in the toaster first.”[/color]