No Fears

Chapter 8-Scott

           

"HOW DID YOU FIND this place?" Steph asked me as we sat on our table. I understood why she asked this, the restaurant wasn't like the ones we were used to. This place was small and painteresque, the waiters didn't treat like you were royalty and most importantly, the plates were big enough to filled a person, not like those luxurious restaurants that charged you a hundred bucks for a plate that wouldn't even feed a bird. 

"My mother brought me once."  I said.

She had brought me here the day she told me she was leaving. It had been a horrible night, but the food was awesome, and for some reason I wanted to bring her here, wanted this date not to be like any others she might have had. Agh, thinking of her with other guys made me sick, they probably weren't good enough for her.

And I was? Not really, but I was selfish enough to try and get her.  

"It's lovely." She said honestly.

"Yeah, I haven't come here since that last time with my mother." I admitted.

"Were does she live now?" She asked me.

I waited for a minute, talking about my mother was always hard. Talking about anything that even mattered to me was difficult, really.

"In San Francisco."

"Why so far away?" She asked wearing a sad expression.

"She had family there, her sister, my aunt, lives there with her husband and her three kids." I explained.

She nodded in understanding. "Also, I can't blame her for wanting as much distance from him as she could." I added.

"I can relate." She said.

I knew she probably had a plan to get out of here after she graduated, but the waitress came before I could ask her anything about it. 

"What can I get you to drink?" She asked us, a pad and a pencil in hand. She gave us the menus. 

"I'll have a diet coke." Steph said.

"Same." I added.

"Great, I'll leave you a few minutes to check out the menu and then I'll be back with your drinks."

I thanked her and she left. We opened the menu and started to inspect it. I didn't understand most of it, so I opted for something that sounded good.

"Do you know your order yet?" I asked her.

"Yep, I'm having sugo all'arrabbiata" She said the name of her plate in perfect Italian. I looked at her speechless. "What, you didn't know I spoke Italian?" She asked.

"No." I replied.

"My father made me take particular lessons when I was fifteen. So, I spent every Saturday morning for a whole year ordered around by this horrible woman. I despised her, she was impatient and inconsiderate, much like my father in that department, maybe that's why he liked her so much."

I laughed. She made something horrible like her father sound funny. She was fucking awesome; how did I took so much time to notice it before?

"At least now you speak flawless Italian." I told her.

"You thought that was flawless?" She asked laughing.

"It wasn't?" I asked confused.

"Nope, maybe it could pass for acceptable. You see? When something is imposed at you is very difficult to appreciate it, so I didn't dedicate any of my free time to studying this language." She said.