Learning to be Beautiful

Learning to be Beautiful ~5~

“He did what?” Gavin asked, his jaw setting and eyes going hard. I was telling him about Linc’s little prank and he wasn’t taking it very well. “What’s this guy’s name again? I need to find him and punch his pretty little face in.”

“Don’t do that!” I protested, stopping dead in my tracks on the sidewalk. Gavin stopped a few steps away and turned to look at me, his dark eyebrows furrowed together.

“Why the heck not?” He demanded, fists clenching at his sides.

I looked over to my right, where a multitude of cars were going down the crookedest street. “Well, he apologized. That’s got to count for something, right?” I wasn’t sure if I was convincing him of that or myself. “Look, the guy was probably just having a bad day.” My arms moved up and down as I shrugged, and Gavin’s frown fell from his face.

“If he ever does something like that again, I want you to tell me so that I can beat the snot out of him.” He looked me in the eye and stuck his fist out, his pinky extended. “Promise?”

I giggled at the puerility of his ‘pinky-promise’ but looped my pinky around his and shook anyways. “Promise,” a smile spread across Gavin’s face, lighting all of his features up. “So where are we going anyways?” I asked, as we resumed our walking down the steep, San Francisco street.

“I want you to meet someone.” He said, but didn’t explain further.

We walked in silence until we reached a little café about a block down from the Denny’s we had eaten at just that morning. It was a cute little eatery, with a sea-foam green striped sun-shade that hung over the door and huge glass windows that took up most of the wall that faced the street. A young woman who seemed to be in her very early twenties was the only diner.

We stopped in front of the large window, and Gavin peeked into the window nervously at the young woman.

“Who is she?” I asked, “You’re not stalking her, are you?”

“What? “ Gavin cried, “Of course I’m not stalking her! Are you crazy?” He sighed and rolled his eyes at my question. “That’s Adriana, we’re dating.”

My eyebrows shot up, “And I’m here…why?” I didn’t want to be dragged on one of their dates. Talk about being a third wheel…

“You’re going to help me break up with her.” He stated calmly and casually.

If my eyebrows went any higher they would indistinguishable from the rest of my hair, “Break up with her? Why? She looks nice.”

“Yeah. Exactly. She’s a little too nice. She’s constantly asking if she can come over and do my laundry and clean my apartment… I’m going to go crazy if I stay in the relationship any longer.”

“Who the heck asks their boyfriend if they can do his laundry?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “That just seems weird.”