Best Night Ever

chapter thirteen

I struggled on the floor in attempts to force my converse on.

Note to self, always go for low-tops from now on.

After finally managing to jam my feet inside of the shoe and tighten the laces, I tucked the laces into the tongue, making a mental note to tie them later. Then, I was out the door not even a moment after.

I wouldn't say I was running late to meet Harry per say...because if I did, I wouldn't be lying. Harry and I had arranged to meet around noon and of course, being as lazy as I am, I didn't wake up until 11:45. I had to rush to get ready AND drive there.

Luckily, traffic was on my side and I arrived at the café he had suggested, only a few minutes after twelve. At first glance, the little tea house seemed quaint and simple, but that impression changed the second I saw the interior. It was elegant in the most artistically minimalistic way possible. Everything was well polished, but in a rugged, young-broke-artist sense. Basically, it was like Urban Outfitters, but with food.

Abstract art pieces hung on the brick walls, which were painted stark white. The floor appeared to made of a unique form of wood that I had never seen before. The background music was some weird foreign jazz-yodeling? Honestly, there wasn't any possible way to classify it.

And as if that wasn't peculiar enough, all the workers had big, kooky accessories and tattoos with symbols in languages it was safe to assume they didn't speak.

I groaned inwardly. Leave it to Harry to drag me to a place like this.

I scanned the room through all of the people wearing beanies until I spotted one guy who stood out more than the others, way in the back. He was the only douche wearing sunglasses inside.

His face was in his phone as he waited patiently for me. I grinned as I approached.

"So you're one of those people?"

He looked up and shoved his phone in his pocket, giving me his undivided attention. His manners were extremely admirable.

"Excuse me?" He looked perplexed.

I giggled as I sat down in the stool across from him.

"One of those people who wear sunglasses inside."

A small smile played at his lips.

"It helps to not draw attention to me," he explained with intense gesticulation.

"Yeah," I nodded with a big smirk on my face. "You sure about that?" I motioned to all of the other people in the restaurant, none of whom had sunglasses on.

"I suppose you're right about that," he admitted.

He took off his sunglasses and placed them
on the end of the table near the napkin holder.

"Is that better?"

I smiled just as a waiter of some form appeared, asking us what we wanted to order. I frowned uncomfortably. I hadn't even looked at the menu yet because I didn't think this was a serving restaurant. I thought we ordered at the counter like any normal café.

We've been through this, I reminded myself. This is not a normal café

"Uh," I froze.

Harry recognized my dilemma and politely held up a finger to the waiter.

"Do you have any allergies or food restrictions of any kind?" He asked me, warmth in his eyes.

"No," I laughed comfortably. "I eat anything."

He smiled before turning back to the waiter and ordering two of the same dish. I wasn't sure what it was because it had some fancy French name, but I knew if he was ordering it for himself, it had to be good.