Jaded

[36] New York, New York

"How do you even know about this place?" Atty asks as he helps me unload all of the 'equipment' I packed.

I point across the empty parking lot we're in, right at the orange two-story building only a dozen meters away. "You see that building?"

He squints, straining through the dark. "The only one here? Yeah, I see it."

"That's the gun range Dad's been taking me to ever since I can remember."

The parking lot we're in isn't anything special, but it's quiet and secluded- just enough that the stars shine brighter here than anywhere else in town. Plus, this is the place where Dad and I used to split a bottle of Gatorade every Sunday.

Atty sets down the heavy cooler I loaded with soda earlier and grins, proceeding to pull out the two chairs. "You're telling me you're experienced with a gun?"

I nod, reaching for the blanket I tucked away near the back of rusty's trunk. "Of course, I'm the sheriff's daughter. Doesn't mean I like them though."

"This is perfect. One of my next projects is kinda related so-"

I snort. "You're going to use me as a guinea pig?"

"What else are relationships for?" he teases as he pulls the last of our things out and closes the trunk.

I roll my eyes but can't help match his grin. Taking the two foldable chairs from Atty, I place them a foot apart, facing each other interview style. When he reclines into the one on the left, I giggle and toss the blanket on him.

"You just assumed I'd be cold?"

"Well, are you?"

Without a word, Atty relaxes deeper into the chair and wraps the fabric around him, even over his head so that just his face is peeking out. Yeah, that's what I thought grandpa.

I clasp my hands together and dramatically bat my lashes, saying, "thank you Jade, so kind of you. You're such a perfect person-"

"Wow Jade, how can anyone be so gosh darn perfect," he chimes in a frighteningly accurate southern belle pitch.

Atty's being extra sassy tonight and it may have something to do with the trickery I pulled on him a few hours ago. I laugh and show him the thermos I had set down earlier. "Alright, since you're such a smart guy, I guess you won't need this burning hot coffee I packed just for you."

I expect him to buckle, since I know just how important coffee is for him. But instead he smirks and leans over in his chair, grabbing one of our bags cluttered nearby. He first checks inside, no doubt inspecting the contents, then smirks even more smugly- if that's at all possible.

"Okay then, I guess you won't need these cookies."

Ha, adorable Atticus thinks he's got the upper hand here. "I won't, since I already ate a whole bunch." Complete lie, but a little bluffing is good for the skin.

Atty pauses, watching me closely. He's trying to gauge if I'm telling the truth or not. This is where it counts, I need to put on a poker face.

Eventually, he groans and puts the bag down. "Okay fine, you win." Immediately, he stretches his arm out, waiting for the thermos.

I stifle a laugh as I watch him actually chug the first few sips. Atty's throat must be made of titanium. I take a seat in the chair beside him and dig into the cookies.

In between sips, he manages to ramble, "what've you been up to? How did your first day go- and your second? And the meeting for your club? And you mentioned something about Thea's hooligans before."