Love Lessons (On Hold)

Lesson #5: Chicken Strips Aren't a Good Idea

"So.... tell me." I said, taking a bite of one of my chicken fingers. Cat says chicken fingers are good for a date because they arent that messy.

Nate scratched his head, "Well.... see I am kind of a bad boy."

"Well, I didnt notice that. Being a whore, flirting with every girl, then asking me out, being late for dates, skipping school. Your a Class A bad boy." I scoffed.

He smirked, "I mean, I've got ummm.... a past?"

"Why did you add a question to the end?"

"Okay, lets start the story." I nodded at him, "So when I was a kid Brenda, my 'mom' put me up for adoption. Of course, nobody adopted me. So I was in foster care for almost my whole life. But I got out."

"How?" I asked.

"I was trouble. I always got into fights. Broke this kid's rib once. But thats not the point. I got into drugs and stuff. I was a complete pothead."He ran his fingers through his hair, "So I got shipped off to Rutland."

"Rutland Academy. Like a bad kid school, right?" I said, not knowing the right words.

"Yes. " he laughed, "A 'bad kid' school." Then he got serious, "Well, I didnt get better. Rutland also had girls so... we snuck out alot. Partied, got high. The usual."

"Usual?" I muttered.

He nodded and smirked at me, "Well, I got drunk and well.... knocked a girl up."

Then it happened. I choked. Literally. The next thing I knew my airway was pulled up by a fried piece of chicken. "Oh, God." I coughed.

"Are you okay?" Nate's eyes bugged out, as he stood up to help.

I waved him to sit down, taking a big gulp of British tea, and swallowed it. I could feel the bloody devil scratching my throat as it made its way down. "I'm..... I'm good. Continue." I could feel tears stinging in my eyes, but I was holding back cause I didnt want to mess up my fancy make up done by Cat. She'd be so proud.

"Okay....." he eased himself down, "But...., she had a miscarriage. So I dont have a kid." I could see him half smile from the relief that was in my face. "But after that; I still partied. I was.... am just a bad boy. I got drunk all the time, and snuck in pot and cigs, vodka, beer. I was a drug addict and an alcoholic at 13."

"Bloody hell, thirteen?"

"Yeah. I was messed up. I got kicked out of Rutland and ended up on the street. So at 13 I had: become a drug addict, alcoholic, get kicked out of foster care, get kicked out of a reform school, and knocked a girl up. Then on the street. Some people found me and got me cleaned up. They sent me off to rehab. I was there for about a year. I was on the streets from 13 to 14. Then I went to rehab from 14 to 14 and half. Then I went back to Rutland. I got out on good behavior, and then I met the most amazing girl in the world. My Superwoman."

I'm sure I was blushing like a bloody dumb arse, because inside I was freaking out. I was jumping around like a 5 year old who got the bike they wanted for Christmas. But I said: "Oh God. You went through a lot."

"Yeah, but it's all worth it to be here." he smiled.

"Whatever." I rubbed my neck, scratching my hand on the clasp of my pearl necklace.

"So, tell me about you." he said, holding himself up with his palms.

I couldnt help but staring at how ripped he was, "I have a boring life."

"Tell me."

"Okay, okay. My dad's Johnny McIntire. " I stopped.

"Woah! The mega rich businessman!?" he shouted, in his cute as a button country accent.

"Yes." I frowned. "My mum's a doctor. When I was younger we  moved from America to England for my dad to do whatever the hell he does. My mum quit her job and took care of me cause she didnt want some British lady taking care of me. We lived in Britain for a while. Then we came back to America. Moved into this bloody mega mansion. And thats life for me. No bloody fun, or struggles. Just a rich little, bloody British girl who's 'perfect' and gets the best grades, and whatever else shit people say to describe me."

He frowned, "You seem pissed about being privledged?"

"Oh God. Privileged? I hate being that smart, 'pretty', rich girl. I'm the poster child, dont you see? I've that the same bloody friendship for years. Collin's" I saw Nate cringe at his name, "been my only friend for years. We even kept in touch when I moved. He's my best friend. Then I met Cat. She's my best girl friend, I guess."

"I love everything about you." Nate smiled, dreamily.

"Wha?" I raised my brows.

"You're amazing. You are completely perfect. Your smart, gorgeous, popular, rich, cultured, well-mannered, I've seen your articles in the school newspaper. They're amazing." I blushed, "You are like the poster child of sexy good girl. AND you dont want to be a snobby rich girl. Its sooooo sexy." he winked.

"If this is your way of trying to get me to have sex with you, its not gonna happen."I mustered up the courage to say.

"Noo, no way. You're to good for me."

"Whatever. I'm as good as everyone else."

Nate just smiled and looked at me. He pushed the hair out of my face and cocked his head. I smiled. Then........ my bloody phone rang. "One sec." I said, "Can you excuse me?" he sat back and nodded.

"Hey, Hero. Its Collin. I'm coming to pick you up. Be there in one minute, kay?" Collin spoke into the phone.

"Kay." I growled. I went back over to the table, and sat down, "Hey. Collin's gonna be here in a sec. You wanna wait outside?"

Nate looked a bit angry but he just nodded.

"Bloody hell it's cold." I frowned, rubbing my arms.

Nate took off his jacket and placed it over my arms, "Better now, Superwoman?"

"Better." I smiled. Then Collin pulled up.

Nate pulled me in for a slow hug. It seemed to last forever. It was great. I smiled at him and sid into Collin's backseat. As we drove away all I heard was Cat screeching:

"HOW WAS IT!?" Cat shouted, turning around. A big dumb grin plastered on her face.

"It was brilliant." I smiled.

"Anything go bad?" Collin asked.

I frowned, "Oh, Cat! I choked on a chicken tender! You told me they were a good choice!"

"Oh my God! Are you serious! Small bites and they are!"  she shouted back.

I covered my face with my hands, I couldnt help smiling. The only thing in my mind was Nate's hand brushing up againist my face, pushing my hair out of eye's view.