Sarah Smiles

But it's Better if You Do

Brendon's POV

"Still a virgin?! Really, Brendon?" Sarah gives me a look of sheer horror. I chuckle and open the passenger side door. I didn't realize her mom was that bad.

"My bad, I thought it was a good line. I've used it before to ease the tension, maybe get a laugh in?" It's true, but I guess Sarah's mom is different. Like, crazy, psychotic different.

"So where are we going for dinner?" She asks me, buckling her seat belt and smiling at me intently. She looks so cute in the flower print dress she's wearing. I wonder why girls don't wear dresses all the time.

"It's a secret." I wink at her and she blushes. I love how nervous I make her feel, it makes me think that something really could happen between the two of us.

"Fine. But you shouldn't take us anywhere too fancy." She sighs and looks out the window. I'm really excited to see how she reacts when I take her to the empty cabaret we're on our way to.

"You'll like it. I promise." I smile, making Sarah smile back at me.

"Oh, by the way, I told my mom you were 18 and she freaked out. So you might not want to mention it." She mumbles to the window.

I smirk. "If I was 18, would you go out with me?" She whips her head around, eyes widened in terror. Shit. I did it again! I bite my lip and concentrate on the road ahead of me.

"I don't think it'd matter, really. I just don't want to date, ok?" Sarah mutters into her hand and we drive in silence the rest of the way.

Sarah's POV

I really hate surprises. I also hate arguments, the two things I hate most are being combined and I don't like it at all. For some reason, Brendon is set on going out with me. I'm not sure why he would want to, even if I was interested. I'm not cool, like him.

And where the hell are we going? I have the worst feeling when we pull up to an old grungy building in the middle of nowhere.

"Uh, Brendon, you aren't going to kill me, are you?" I ask, only half joking.

"Maybe." He laughs evilly. "Nah, you'll see." At that, he gets out of the car and walks over to the door of the building. I follow suit, not wanting to be left behind in the sketchy parking lot. There are a few other cars parked around, but not enough that I feel comfortable.

"Brendon! What the hell?" I yell after him as I jog to catch up. I see a big black steel door. Brendon is leaning on it, watching me keenly as I scurry towards him. God he's so cocky, it's almost annoying.

"Gotta pick the right pockets, my dear Sarah." He says in a mock British accent, smirking. I am utterly confused, but as he says this, the door swings outward. A head pokes out and looks around.

"Hurry, if you're coming in!" The man scowls at us and gestures for us to come through the dark, mysterious door. I look to Brendon, to make sure I'll be ok. He shrugs and holds out his hand. I take it and he leads me into the blackness.

"Don't be afraid, Sare." I flinch again at the nickname he uses. I suppose I'll have to get used to it at some point, but it's hard to let go of the past. I do enjoy the way he says my name, with air on the H and a very pronounced S.

"I'm not, I just can't see." I lie, squinting through the darkness. I see light behind what I think is another door. "Will you just tell me where we are, already?"

At that, the door opens and I'm blinded by the sudden lighting. I throw my arm infront of my face to shield my eyes. I blink a bit and then look around. There's a table in the centre of a nicely decorated room that is set for two. In one corner of the room is a piano, and in another a guitar. I look at Brendon and I'm surprised to see how in place he seems, even though he's clearly under dressed. "I hope it's not too much . . ." He smirks at me, curiosity in his eyes.

"Shut up, it's perfect!" I smile at him. Brendon leads me to the table and pulls out a chair for me. The same guy who opened the door for us enters the room. Brendon walks over to the piano and starts to play. The man comes over to the table and hands me a folded piece of cardboard.

"Your menu, miss." He frowns. "My name is Adolf, and I'll be your waiter for tonight." Well no wonder he seems bitter, he shares a name with the most notorious politician in the world.

"I'm so sorry." I laugh a little under my breath. I open the make-shift menu and look at my options. There is a giant picture of Brendon posing with his hand on his chin and a pondering look on his face. From that picture thought bubbles protrude, he's pretty creative. My main options are mac and cheese or speghetti. I look over at Brendon, who is still playing on the piano. Laughing lightly, I turn back to Adolf, "I'll have the Mac and Cheese."

"Ooooo! Me too!" Brendon yells, finishing his song and running over to the table. "And to drink we'll have the usual." He winks at Adolf and shoos him away as he sits across from me at the table. I look at him with confusion.

"What's the usual?" I ask Brendon. "It better not be alcohol, my mom can smell it from a mile away." I sound like such a buzzkill, but I don't even like alcohol. It tastes so bitter and disgusting.

"Relax, hun, it isn't alcohol. I'm a responsible adult . . . ish." He laughs. I ease up a bit and lean forward into the conversation. I don't even hear what Brendon is saying, because I'm too focused on how perfect he looks. His hair sweeps back and over to the side in a beautiful dark wave of brown. His eyes, the colour of chocolate, are warm and caring. His lips, the best part, look like soft pale pillows. If I wasn't thinking clearly, I might even try to kiss them. "Sarah? Sare, are you ok?" I snap out of my haze and look away quickly, blushing.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Dammit, you're just so perfect. It isn't fair." Did I just say that out loud? FUCK! Get it together, Sarah! Brendon says nothing, just looks at me in awe, like I've just said something that caught him off guard. I bite my lip and fumble with my fingers under the table. Well this is awkward.