°•°•°•°•°•Jaz's POV°•°•°•°•°•
We get to the diner and Michael walks me in, holding my hand. We get a booth and sit down. Michael attracts a few excited glances, but thankfully nothing crazy.
The waitress comes over and takes Michael's order first. She bats her eyes, jokes, the whole nine yards. When she takes his menu she bends over, exaggerating obviously. Is she serious?
Michael doesn't give her a second look.
When she's taking my order, it's a whole different story. She practically glares at me. I try my best to ignore her. Wonder if she'll spit in my food?....
Anyway, we get our food soon enough and start to eat. I figure, this is our first date, maybe I could get to know him a little better, but every two minutes that waitress comes to our booth, interrupting us.
After she glared at me again and sashayed away for the tenth time Michael shakes his head, smiling, amused.
"Guess who's not getting a tip? I'm done, are you ready?" He says.
I nod. (I've been ready for a while...)
"Good, let's get out of here." He gets up and leads me out to his car.
We drive for a few minutes and we stop at the park.
"Feel like a walk? It's beautiful outside." Says Michael.
I smile, cause that sounds amazing.
"Besides, we can talk out here.." He says.
I guess I wasn't the only one who wanted to talk.
"Sounds great." I say.
We get out and start walking down the sidewalk. Michael grabs my hand again.
"So," he starts. "what's up with you and your parents?"
I look down slightly. This isn't really a subject I was hoping to talk about...
"What makes you think there's something up?"
He looks at me and raises his eyebrow. "Jazzie." he says in a soft, slightly stern tone.
I sigh. Dang it...
"Well, they're just a little stern." I say.
He raises an eyebrow at me. "A little? Is that why you don't ever get to do anything?"
"I do get to do things. I went to that party, remember?"
"Only when they're not around."
I sigh, cause he's right.
"They just want me to do well at school. They always have...I'm their only child so I'm supposed to be perfect." I admit, looking away.
He softly rubs my hand with his thumb. "I know what that feels like."
I look at him.
"I'm not an only child but from the time I was very young I was expected to be perfect. My dad..." He pauses. "My dad was really hard on me."
"It's hard." I say softly.
He nods and looks at me. "I'm glad you understand. A lot of people don't. They're free to do whatever they want and they take it for granted. When I was little I used to watch the other kids play in the park across the street from the recording studio. I wanted to join them so badly but I couldn't. There was too much work to do...Maybe that's why I like to go to parks so much, see the kids running around, having fun. It makes me happy."
