My Love, My Drug, My Release

Chapter 16: The Diner

Friday was one of the strangest days I've ever experienced. Sucking Paul's dick the night before was a fuzzy enough memory for me to almost be able to pass it off as a bizarre dream, and yet I knew it had happened. But I couldn't divert much thought to it because today was the day that I had evening detention. And Mr. Grant was sure to remind me at the end of class.

"Foxwell, Gallaher," he barked as we were being dismissed, a few students hovering to rubberneck like we were an accident on the freeway. "I'll be seeing you two at five, correct?"

We both nodded before filing out of the classroom as quickly as we could.

"Fucking hate that guy," Gallagher grumbled once we were out of earshot, walking me to my next class almost subconsciously. "Do you want to go out for something to eat before five? There's a pretty good diner two blocks down."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear nervously.

"Cool, see you then." 

With that, he walked off, and I went to maths, feeling bubbly. For some reason, I found myself getting excited for detention with Gallagher. I mean, detention with Thelma had been the most fun I'd had with people at school since... well, probably since I moved back to London. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him intriguing, even attractive. I wasn't delusional enough to think I was ever going to "date" Keith, he was just someone who made my stomach flip, and sleeping with Paul was looking more and more like a mistake every day, but Gallagher was age-appropriate, handsome, and had stood up for me when he didn't need to. What else could you want in a boy?

After school was over, I had no idea where Gallagher wanted me to meet him, so I just hovered outside my biology class, turning in circles and feeling silly.

"Hey, Lorraine." He showed up to the right of me, smiling brightly.

"Hi, sorry, I didn't know where you wanted to meet."

"Don't worry about it, let's go." He offered me an arm, which was oddly gentlemanly, and I took it, hoping I wasn't blushing. 

The walk to the diner was warm, not uncomfortably so, but I was certainly aware that the seasons were changing. The summers in New York were wonderful and horrible. There was Shakespeare in the park and beaches on Staten Island and barbeques on the roofs of apartment buildings, which was all amazing, but there was also way too much humidity and mosquitoes and sunburns. Summers in London were much less extreme. I wasn't sure which I preferred.

When we sat down, my companion took off his blazer, removed his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. It was all very sexy, and I could see a bit of auburn chest hair since he wasn't wearing an undershirt. There were small sweat patches under his arms.

"What do you feel like?" he asked.

"I don't know, probably just a sandwich or something."

"How about egg salad?"

I shook my head, scrunching up my nose. "No, I never liked egg salad. My nanny, Siobhan, she used to make me and my brother egg salad sandwiches every Saturday. Jackson, that's my brother, he loved them, but I couldn't stomach it."

"So, no egg salad then, how about turkey?"

"Yeah, I can do turkey."

He scanned the menu, chewing on his lower lip. "How hungry are you? Only asking, cause I'm not that hungry, so I wouldn't mind sharing."

"Sure, sure." My face felt warm, probably for no good reason. But wasn't it sort of a couple thing to do, to share a meal, each taking half of a sandwich. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe, all the time I'd spent with Brandon made me create this misconception in my head of how a good boyfriend would actually behave. 

Gallagher ordered for me, and asked occasional questions about seemingly random topics. "Where were you born?"

"London, but I moved to New York with my stepmom when I was ten."

"Linda Eastman," he stated, and I could barely contain an eye roll. "What, did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just frustrating that people know so much about my life without even knowing me."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I know." He stopped when the sandwich arrived, thanking our waitress. "Which side do you want?"

"Does it matter?" I asked. The pieces looked about the same.

He shrugged, and picked up a half, biting into it. This is probably stupid, but his mouth looked very nice when he took a bite, the way his jaw moved. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't know when I could, when would be an appropriate time. I didn't even know if he liked me. 

"Do you remember what you wrote on that note you gave me?" I asked.

That made him smile, the high points of his cheeks turning pink. "Of course, I spent ten minutes getting the wording right." I didn't know how to respond, so I just sat there. After a brief pause, he leaned across the table, as whispered, "I like a lot of things about you, Lorraine, not just your legs."