Ugly : clifford a.u

Michael

Listening to the low hum of chatter which surrounded us I let out a small sigh as I lowered my menu.

"You okay?" Spencer questioned.

"Fine." I replied, forcing a smile.

"What are you getting?" she asked.

"No idea." I admitted, "Can't see the menu."

"I'm sorry." She said quickly, "I don't....I didn't think of that...Can I read it to you?"

Smiling, my heart swelled. She wasn't just blurting out the names of dishes to me, she was asking. She knew I needed help, yet she was giving me the dignity of requesting it for myself instead of having it thrust upon me like a small child.

"Can you?" I replied.

"Of course." She said brightly, "What do you want, there's pasta, or pizza, there's soup and salad."

"I was thinking pizza but now I'm kind of in a pasta mood."

"Me too." She laughed, "Do you want a cream sauce or a red sauce?"

"Red." I replied, propping my elbows up on the table and resting my chin in the palms of my hands.

"Okay," she said, holding the world out as she read the menue, "There's spaghetti, and something called eggplant parmesan which I'm assuming is vegetarian but we can ask. And the..."

"You remembered that?" I interrupted.

"Remembered what?" she questioned.

"That I'm vegetarian." I said slowly, "I said that once in passing."

"It's an important detail." She replied.

"Not really." I laughed, "Being blind, that's an important detail."

"I don't think it is." She said slowly.

"Are you being serious right now?" I chuckled.

"I don't think it's important." She repeated, "You're blind, I'm black, Luke's gay. None of those things are relevant adjectives."

"Oh?"

"No."

"So what are relevant adjectives?" I pressed.

"I don't know." She mumbled.

"Describe me." I said, "Using only the adjectives describing the most important, essential features of my being."

"You're funny." Spencer replied, "You're witty, and sweet. You try to act perverted and cool but you're a massive Mama's boy and a hopeless romantic. You're a dork of epic proportions and you make me feel, for the first time in a long time, that I'm okay."

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"You like me." She mumbled, "At least I hope you do...."

"I do."

"Thank you, that... I don't know. Knowing that you like me, makes me like me. I know that doesn't make much sense bu..."

"It makes perfect sense to me." I assured her.

"Have you two decided yet?"

Leaping out of my skin at the sudden and unexpected intrusion of our waitress Kurt, I turned to Spencer helplessly.

"Do you know what you want Michael?" Spencer questioned.

I nodded.

"Okay." Kurt sighed, "For you Miss?"

"I'll have the macaroni and cheese." Spencer said slowly.

"Okay, and what does he want?" Kurt questioned.

"How would I know?" Spencer laughed, "Ask him."

"I'm sorry." Kurt muttered, "I just thoug..."

"Just thought what?" Spencer snapped, "That because he can't see he can't think? He's not an idiot. He's seventeen years old, I'm fairly certain he can figure out what he wants to eat?"

"My apologies." Kurt grumbled, "Can I take your order?"

"I'll have the spaghetti." I mumbled, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I heard him scribbling something down on his notepad, probably a reminder to spit in our food, and then there was silence.

"Is he gone?" I whispered.

"Yeah." Spencer sighed, "He's gone."

Nodding, I reached down and pet Lola under the table.

"I'm sorry about that." Spencer mumbled, "I just... I think it's stupid that people treat you different."

"I think you're the only person that sees it." I laughed, "No one else gets it. That I'm not that different."

"People are so rude." Spencer sighed, "I mean, half the restaurant is staring."

"Well yeah, we're an attractive couple."

"Shut up." She giggled.

"And there's a dog under our table." I continued, "It's not every day you see a dog under a table."

Spencer laughed.

"Does Lola scare you?" I questioned randomly, "She used to. Does she still?"

Spencer hesitated a moment before answering.

"No."

"Why not?"

Again, she hesitated.

"She's different." She said slowly, "She's not just a dog. She's your eyes. She helps you and I'm grateful to her for it."

Stunned, I rubbed Lola's belly lightly with my foot.

"So can I get you a puppy for Christmas?" I questioned.

"Absolutely not." She laughed.

Smirking, I took a sip of my water and we slipped into a comfortable silence, each of us thinking, or at least I figured she was thinking, I was.

"Spencer?" I questioned after a moment.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?" I asked, "Your face, my eyes, My sister, Luke's friends. Emily didn't deserve to die. I never knew Luke's friend, Eileen her name was, wasn't it? But I'm sure she didn't deserve to die. How is that fair?"

"It's not." Spencer replied.

"Some people go through life and the worst thing that happens to them is they scratch the leather on their Porche. And then some of us get crap, how does that work?"

Spencer was quiet for a moment before answering carefully, "I think we endure what we can handle."