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Now where could THIS be going? Having a lot of fun writing this one.

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Jeff Hancock drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his Hyundai as he stared across the empty parking lot. He’d grown up in this town and he’d seen it grow fast, adding 50,000 more people in his lifetime. Businesses appeared almost overnight that he hadn't even noticed before; he would drive to work one day and suddenly spot a new breakfast joint or sports shop, only to find out it had already been there for six months. The speed of life was so different than when he’d been 17.

When he thought about it, that overwhelming speed was part of the reason he was sitting in the parking lot of Buff’s Chicken. Given his role as a youth pastor, he met a lot of young people, and they had a tendency to confide in him. Landry Sims was one of those kids. He’d gone to Jeff’s church years prior, but they hadn’t seen each other in years until a chance encounter at Target earlier in the week. Landry was still the same upbeat guy he’d always been - albeit now in a stringy teenage body - but he’d admitted to Jeff that he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his life now that high school was ending. So, they’d set a lunch to talk more about it.

Jeff sighed and checked his watch. His break was only 45 minutes, so hopefully Landry would arrive on time and service would be fast. As one of the new businesses in town that just materialized out of the blue, Buff’s Chicken was unproven as a lunch spot, but Jeff wouldn’t be facing much competition for a quick sandwich if all the open parking spaces were any indicator. All he knew was that Google said Buff’s was healthy, and Jeff was trying to eat better. His body was a temple, after all.

A few moments later, an old tan 4-door trundled into the parking lot, and Landry got out. Jeff turned off his car and stepped out too. He waved, and the teen waved back. “Hey, Pastor Jeff!”

“You can just call me Jeff, dude,” Jeff smiled, slapping Landry’s hand in an open-palm handshake. Landry’s hair had grown out into a messy mop of curls that bounced as they walked toward the restaurant, and his rumpled shorts and t-shirt gave off the vibe that he’d come here straight from bed. Jeff couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for his own uninhibited teenage years. He remembered the age when a lunch like this would be the only thing he had to do all day. No responsibilities sounded nice, but a steady paycheck was nice too.

“You been here before?” Landry gestured to the restaurant. “I hadn’t heard of it before you suggested it.”

Jeff said no, he hadn’t. “It’s really new,” he added, looking at the gleaming white exterior and freshly painted signage. It looked like Buff’s Chicken hadn’t even been through a rainstorm yet. The logo on the door was spotless: a cartoonish he-man with bulging muscles proudly displayed a chicken sandwich for all to see, the word 'BUFF'S' taking center stage across his chest. “A little on-the-nose, huh,” he joked to Landry as he opened the door.

Jeff and Landry stepped into the restaurant and were greeted by a blast of cool air that carried the scent of spicy chicken. The interior was sleek and modern, with chrome tables and industrial light fixtures. References to gym culture abounded: door handles shaped like dumbbells, a ‘locker room’ sign above the bathrooms. A slick video board above the counter depicted a flexing animated rooster alongside the menu. Jeff couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

Another testament to fitness stood behind the cash register. He was tall and tan and ridiculously wide, with shoulders as straight and broad as a curtain rod. The hunk looked too young to be as jacked as he was – he had big brown eyes and a perfect swoosh of black hair, with nary a whisker in sight on his chiseled jawline. Vascular arms and rippling abs bulged out of a white uniform polo that was one size too small. His name tag identified him as 'Joaquin'.

“Hey guys,” he said, voice deep and warm. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Juuust a second,” Landry said as he stared up at the menu.

Jeff asked Joaquin how long Buff’s had been open. “This is the sixth day. I think word is still getting out,” Joaquin answered, looking ruefully around the empty dining room. Jeff almost responded with a joke about God creating man on the sixth day, but he couldn’t land on a punchline, so he held his tongue.

Jeff and Landry ordered their food at Joaquin's recommendation – the combos were labeled ‘Supersets’ on the menu, and they both opted for the first one: a grilled chicken sandwich with sweet potato fries on the side. They paid Joaquin, who waved them off to have a seat at one of the tables.

They selected a booth in the corner of the restaurant, its high back providing a measure of privacy. As they settled in, Jeff shifted in his seat and asked Landry how he was doing. The initial response was predictably vague – “all good!” – but Jeff knew that Landry wanted to open up more. So he kept probing, asking questions about school and family, offering occasional commiserations when the answers were less than encouraging. Landry mentioned that he wasn’t going to college yet because he didn’t know what he wanted to study, and it seemed dumb to take out loans for something he wasn’t passionate about.

“Everyone else seems to have it figured out,” Landry said.

“I promise you they don’t,” Jeff assured him. “I have tons of these conversations every year. And even if they think they do now, things change quickly. I’ve seen so many kids go into college sure of what they want to do, then change their majors after two years. It’s a time when you question a lot about yourself, which is why it’s good to talk to other people about it and get a lot of perspectives.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Landry nodded. “I hadn’t thought about how many people you must talk to. That makes me feel better.”

“We all have God-given talents, and those are there for a reason,” Jeff said. “I had no plans to be a pastor when I was your age. I started volunteering at a church so I could meet people after I moved, and it sparked this passion in helping students. I thought I’d just be helping them with their faith, but half the time we don’t even talk about God!”

“That’s cool,” Landry said. “And you didn’t want to teach?”

“Well, I specifically wanted to talk openly about God, so that was one thing. It was a faith-based calling. But I don’t want to make this about me! What were your favorite classes in school?” Jeff asked. “I know all of you guys get asked this all the time, so sorry to make you repeat yourself.”

“It’s fine, but yeah, that’s the issue. I liked marching band, but I’m not good enough to be a professional musician, and I don’t want to be a teacher,” Landry sighed. “I want to do something interesting, but I don’t know what’s interesting. Is that weird?”

Before Jeff could answer, Joaquin called out their names from the counter. Landry stood up and said he’d grab the two trays of food waiting for them. He walked over to the counter, and when he didn’t return within a few seconds, Jeff turned his head to see Landry speaking with Joaquin. They seemed to be having a friendly conversation, their heads leaning in close together as they exchanged words. What they were talking about, he couldn’t tell. But the conversation seemed congenial and familiar. Maybe they’d gone to school together, he thought.

Jeff scrolled through emails on his phone until Landry returned bearing golden-brown sandwiches and crisp sweet potato fries. They tasted as good as they smelled. After a few minutes of contented and silent eating, Jeff prodded, “So you were saying about not being sure what interests you…?”

“Oh, right,” Landry said, taking a big bite of his sandwich. “These are so good. Anyway, actually, one thing that would interest me would be…uh…would be…” He chewed and swallowed, the gears in his head visibly turning. Even Landry seemed surprised to hear himself blurt out, “...would be owning a restaurant.”