[This story is free again]
A social klutz and certified bookworm, Autumn Lyne is content with having just books as companions--that is, until her extrovert of a sister drags her out to meet her band. But nobody has expected that this would mark the...
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We went to a small diner house just two streets away from school. The exterior might be in urgent need of a paint job, some plant trimming, and a new sign, but everything inside was lively. Country music flowed from the radio, and the smell of cooking food scented the air.
Michael and I sat in a booth in the back near the window, the two of us facing one another. After placing his guitar case on the seat next to him, he nodded at the busty server who was wiping the next table. She smiled at him in response and stopped working to proceed to the counter.
He turned to me and asked, "What would you like? It's on me."
"What? Why?" I asked, surprised.
"Well..." He crossed his arms on the table as if he was about to spill a momentous speech. "It's a token of my gratitude for hanging out with me."
"That's very polite," I remarked.
"Told you I'm a gentleman."
I rolled my eyes. "But no, thank you. You don't have to."
"I insist. Let me have the privilege to treat you for the first time."
His crooked smile was infectious, and I gave in with a light chuckle. "Fine, I'll let you. Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words, Michael?"
"A lot of people, actually. Now, what would you like?"
I studied the menu above the counter as if I was solving a puzzle. I was concerned about how much the meal would cost him, so it took me a little while to decide. It further fed my growing awkwardness, but I was saved when the server placed a white cup on the table in front of Michael. Black coffee. He looked up at her gratefully.
"Thanks, Eve. You sure know exactly what I like most."
"Of course, Michael." The way she said his name in a honeyed voice seemed intentional, and I considered it as her way of flirting.
"So, how's life going?" she inquired.
"Still a freak show," he said.
"Ditto. Got the nastiest classes this semester. I notice you don't come here as often as before. You busy?" She glanced at me as if I had just popped out of thin air. "Oh! Let me guess. You quit your part-time job at the pub and switched to babysitting, am I right? How old is she?"
Michael choked on his drink, spilling some of it on the table. He grabbed a napkin from the holder and wiped his mouth. "That's very funny, Eve. No, I don't babysit her."
"I'm fifteen," I enunciated the word sternly, glaring at her.
"Really? Oh my God. I'm so sorry!"
She didn't look sorry because she was nibbling her lips to keep herself from laughing. My response to her was only a cold smile as insecurity filled me. She was pretty and tall and had curves in all the right places. Most importantly, she was confident in flaunting her features.
