The Fighter

Chapter 2: An Awkward Dinner: Part 1

Ok so HI! I know, I hate when people write in the beginning of chapters too, but I just want to say THANK YOU ALL for your support! I wasn't going to even start this, but your comments pushed away my procrastination! Bear with me here, I wrote this at 3AM.

Dylan

He was on my mind all day, really, I think I was developing some kind of creepy crush on him.

But I mean, it's me, Sophie, I don't work right around guys, nor do I really ever associate with them.

Xavier

No I didn't forget about him, I mean how could I forget about that kid. It's like with Dylan's blonde hair and blue eyes, comes Xavier's stupid face, with his stupid eyelashes, and stupid defined lips, and jaw, and chin with that hint of a dimple that looks like it could hold all of your wishes for safe keeping. 

I mean, Xavier could practically be a woman.

Okay, fine, he would be an ugly woman, but at least I can say his face bothers at least one person, (me).

"Xavier you must be excited to be back home." My mother managed to get out between chomps of her chicken.

Why in the world can't people chew with their mouths closed? I mean, would the earth just blow up if people kept their mouths closed after shoving as much chicken as possible in them?

Oh, yeah, Xavier's in my house, right now, EATING DINNER.

He's sitting in my seat, because apparently there was a draft, that his precious self couldn't be exposed to. Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous... so ridiculous that my parents gave me the liberty of sitting in that perilous seat.

I'm their daughter, I live there, I should get the un-drafted seat!

Confused? I'll painfully relive the day again, even though I whined about it, on the phone, ten times to Laura.

So there we were, in line at the cash registers, behind plenty of obnoxious people. I won't even get into how annoyed I was... If you want to know, go back and read Chapter 1 again, because I'm running out of synonyms for 'annoyed.' 

I could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I was so, so far.

Ten more minutes, just ten more minutes.

"What do you mean, I don't have ten items or less?" Came a strangely familiar voice.

No, nope, it's not who I think it is.

I braced myself and glanced to the express line to my left.

Stupid baseball cap, check. Two Chainz' third chain wrapped around a hairy neck, check.

I turned to my mother, who was trying to calculate the amount of money we were spending as she studied our cart. "Mother, did you give birth to me under a ladder, or maybe break a mirror with my head when I was a baby?" I began dramatically. 

Her concentrated expression was replaced by a vexed one. She looked up at me and sighed so hard her bangs flew up into the air. "What's the matter now?"

Mr. Brooklyn! Mr. Brooklyn is 'the matter'!

"Just, look at that guy over there," I said in a hushed tone, flicking my chin toward the scene at the express line.

"What guy? Who?" She practically yelled, causing a lady in front of us to turn her head. Oh, no wait, she had a dog, the dog was also looking.

"That. Guy." I said lowly through my clenched teeth, becoming more aware of the lady, and her ability to hear our conversation. It was like her dog's eyes were cameras... watching me. She had a chihuahua with two pink bows taped to its head that looked like it needed anti-anxiety meds.