Secondhand Girlfriend

.03

"Girlfriend," I ask for the fifth time.

"Secondhand, but yes girlfriend," she answers just like before.

She sips from the strawberry milkshake she ordered, and looks up at me through her lashes. It is the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and I don't even care about our previous topic anymore. Leaning my elbows on the table, I just gaze at her longingly. How did I get this damn lucky, I'm actually glad I didn't toss that bright ass sign out. Because I probably wouldn't have met this brown-skinned goddess across from me, and that would have been a poor decision on my part.

"Kieran, are you okay," Lisanna asks, waving a hand in front of my face.

"You are so damn beautiful," I say absent-mindedly.

Instead of saying anything she picks up the shake and drinks straight from the glass, not even bothering with the straw this time. Lifting my head slightly, I question her actions but she keeps drinking her shake. Then it dawns on me what she's doing, she is hiding her blush --that's actually really freaking cute. I wait for her to finish her drink, and grab her hand after she sets the glass down.

"Tell me about yourself," I say, playing with her fingers.

"What do you want to know," she inquires, looking down at our hands.

"I want to know everything, but within reason of what you want to tell me."

Lisanna ponders my words as she slowly retracts her hands from mine, and she puts them on her lap under the table. I sit back in my seat, folding my arms over my chest as I take all of her in. There is personality behind this beauty, and although I was at first focused on her body, I would rather explore her mind than what's underneath the dress she's wearing. This epiphany was reached on our walk to this place, she kept her distance from me and her eyes to the ground as we walked. There weren't many words passed between us, and I actually found comfort in the silence. We were in our own little worlds, but we were in them together.

"My favorite Disney movie is Chicken Little," she smiles down at her lap.

"No shit, mine is too. This is truly the beginning of a beautiful relationship," I beam at her.

Glancing up at me, Lisanna's eyes become alight with joy and I think about how good happy looks how her. I have come to another conclusion, that I never want to see this girl cry unless it is from extreme happiness. Thirty minutes I've been with this girl, and I already want to give her the world --along with my heart and soul.

I learn that her father owns a club downtown, where she sometimes sings on open mic nights. She has twin younger siblings, a boy and a girl, who she seems to adore. Her mother is visiting family in England, and as I listen closely as she talks, I can make out the faint trace of an accent. Mostly a quiet person, she doesn't have many people she associates herself with frequently.

"What about Camille, isn't she your friend," I ask, my interest piqued.

"My best friend actually, but she's probably upset with me now,"

"Why would she be upset with you, wait didn't she buy you a Pink Floyd album?"

"Yea, how did you know," she furrows her eyebrows as she looks at me, but then realisation hits, "O my Nefratiti, you're the cute cashier boy."

She puts her head in hands and shakes her head furiously. The word no falls from her plump pink lips repeatedly as she rests her elbows on the table to support herself. What just happened, did I say the wrong thing? But can I just take a moment to comment on that cute little phrase she just used?

"If I would have known you were him, I wouldn't be here. I'm breaking girl code," she cries.

"Lisanna, it's fine, don't stress yourself out about this," I try to calm her down, taking her hand again. "She really isn't my flavor anyway."