†𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 ∞ ongoing

chapter 22 ∞ rose-colored glasses

Jack

The moment she gave me that small smile glimpsing out from beneath her lips, I already knew they'd been tainted from clear to rose.

And just the thought of that excited me.

Not because I wanted something more — no never that.

Simply because it's been a while since I knew I was in for a ride.

Now all I had to do was find a way to make her stay. Just without permanency.

Nova

"Where are we going?"

"You have somewhere in mind?"

"No."

"Yeah, I thought so."

I snort, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're awfully indecisive."

His left arm sits lazily on the top of the steering wheel when we stop at a red light. His other hand twirling a pen between his fingers, swirling around like the blades of a windmill in one constant motion. Then he drops it.

"This is too damn heavy." He grunts, chucking the pen into the backseat of his Jeep.

Weird. Calling a pen heavy.

I reach down into my tote bag and grab something I snuck out yesterday afternoon. I hand him a cigarette and slip it between his pointer and middle finger.

"You sound like a stoner," I casually remark.

He looks at it in between his knuckles and stares up at me surprised, "You smoke?"

"Drive." I point to the green light ahead of us. He quickly places the cig into his mouth before placing his hands on the wheel then pressing on the accelerator.

"Let's smoke sometime. Didn't think the goody two shoes had this side to her." Jack mumbles, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He reaches over and clumsily pushes my hair behind my ear before placing the cig onto the top. As an artist would with a pencil.

"Cute." He says, smiling before his eyes stare at the road in front of him again.

My heart flutters and I already know it shouldn't have.

∞

"Is it good?"

He nods, then wipes his mouth with a napkin, "I was fucking starved."

"I can't believe you don't like McDonald's." I laugh before taking a bite out of my burger.

"It tastes like shit. Burger King's better." He takes another bite and chews, "But this burger joint is fucking gold."

Turns out Jack already had a reservation at a local, yet popular diner in town. It's relatively famous in our town but I've never been. Not sure why. But I know that Fridays are always packed and he somehow was still able to get us some spots before he even came to pick me up.

He places his already half-eaten burger on the plate before shoving a couple of french fries in his mouth, "You're barely eating."

I wave it off, "I'm not that hungry for some reason." Truth was, Jack was making me nervous. Giving me these weird side glances and smiling as if he received good news. Pathetic, I know. Even just a little smirk from him earlier made me weak at the knees. And sitting in front of him to eat a burger and probably bloat right before getting into a bikini is only heightening my blood pressure.