Little Miss Not-So-Perfect

11. Favorite Meals and Disappointing News

I'm currently sitting opposite Celine in a restaurant in the Upper East side of town. It's not that fancy, but most people wouldn't be able to afford it. People all around us use cutlery and try to look sophisticated, some people even looking at Celine and I to see how to behave. I spot a familiar head of perfectly curled hair heading towards us. Phone to her ear, she rolled her eyes as she sat down next to us. Her red lips gave us a small smile before talking back to the person on the phone.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm busy, Jer. Call me later," She pauses to listen to the other person, "Yeah okay, bye." Alessia snaps the phone shut and looks at me and Celine.

"Hello, loves!" She says.

"Lessie, ma cherie!" Celine says, leaning over the table to air-kiss Alessia's two cheeks. We'd become accustomed to her cute, but weird, greetings and goodbyes. It had been almost a month since I met Celine for the first time, and me and Alessia had been hanging out with her ever since.

"So, what did you guys order? I'm starving! I've been talking to Jer all day because some stupid senior tried to knock her up. They've been dating for a while and he already wants kids! I don't even want kids, yet!" Alessia says with a roll of her eyes. Jersey was Alessia's younger sister. She was in college and dating a senior.

"Ah! We ordered the filet mignon with the mushroom sauce, and the foie gras, and chicken cordon bleu," Celine said. Three delicious meals that I absolutely loved. We all talk about things happening locally and discuss random topics until the waiter comes. He places the dishes in front of us.

"Enjoy your meal," the blonde, American waiter says, looking directly at Celine. She doesn't giggle or wink like I would, but just rolls her eyes and dismisses him with her hand. He looks a little heartbroken, like he was expecting a smile, but she looked most uninterested. The waiter walked away, disappointed.

"He was cute," Celine clipped as he walked away, still looking bored. Alessia gives her a confused look.

"So you find him cute, but you shoo him away like a dog?" She inquires. Celine shrugs.

"Way too young for me. What do you think I am? A prostitute?" She says, her French accent making her words sound funny. Alessia and I laugh.

"Honey, he was probably only a year younger," I say, giggling a little. Celine purses her lips.

"Well, honey, I, unlike you, don't have a boyfriend. Also I look for true love, someone else who will sweep me off my feet!" She says dramatically.

"Me and Miller have true love. We never get bored of each other, we're always doing something exciting, and we both like most of the same stuff!" I exclaim. Celine tuts and shakes her head. She throws her head back and laughs slightly.

"Ma cherie, is that what you call true love? That's called friendship, my dear. Friendship," Celine says. She starts taking a bite out of her chicken cordon, acting like we weren't talking in the first place. Did we really have true love? Was Celine right, we're just friends with the title of lovers?

*-*-*

I pull up into Miller's driveway and step out onto his green lawn. The sun was shining, making the grass sparkle like Edward Cullen. I walk up to his door and ring the bell. The door opened up, revealing a sleepy looking Miller, his hair disheveled like he just got out of bed.

"Hey, baby," He says, pulling me into the house and kissing me. As we pull apart, I grin.

"Hello, handsome," I giggle. He puts his arms around my waist and rocks us back and forth, hugging me to his bare chest. After a moment he looks at me affectionately and smiles.

"I have a surprise for you, follow me," Miller says, taking my hand and leading me to his room.

"Ooh! Is the kind of surprise that involves a bed and no clothes?" I ask. Miller smirks.

"That surprise is coming later on. But for now," He reaches onto his desk and pulls out two tickets from under his laptop, "we're going to Paris!" I stand there, a little shocked. I'd been to Paris a million times, but going with Miller was a whole different thing. I'd been to much fancier places, but I'd go anywhere with Miller. I'd even go to a pig farm with mud everywhere. But it must have a fence around the mud, and a carpet in every area I'm going to step on, the pigs have to be trained to stay in place, and body guards everywhere to make sure no mud goes on me. It wasn't exactly as messy, but it was a pig farm nonetheless.

I squeal and throw my arms around him.

"We're going to Paris! We're going to Paris! We're going to Paris!" I sing and jump up and down on his bed. He stands up on the bed with me and grips me tightly, pushing me down so I'm laying on the bed. He kisses me softly and I smile against him.

"There better be more of this in Paris," I mumble, kissing him again. He laughs, sending vibrations through my body.

"Oh, there's loads more to come," He says, preventing me from saying anything by kissing me again.

*-*-*

A few hours later, I'm back at my house. It was almost midnight since I had eaten my lunch with Celine and Alessia and then went to Miller's place. I got in my pajamas, ready for bed, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. I sat down on the bar stool to drink my water, when I heard a footstep. I spun around and surveyed the dimly lit kitchen. The kitchen was huge, about the size of an average master bedroom, so it was easy for someone to hide behind something.

Silence followed the footsteps and I got up from my chair. The sound of a body moving rapidly took place and I ran out of the kitchen. I quickly went over to the main door downstairs and saw it open slightly. I had locked it the moment I'd entered the house. I close the door and suddenly feel a pair of hands on my eyes and mouth. I scream, feeling the roughness of the male hands. He laughs and lets me go. I turn around, my heart beating rapidly.

"Aren't you going to hug your favorite uncle?" The tall, broad man asks.

"Oh My God, Max! You scared me!" I say, wrapping my arms around him. Maxim, my father's brother, had always been my favorite, and only uncle. He was only four years older than me, so I always thought of him as more of a cousin. Max laughed and looked down at me with hazel eyes. His lashes were long and thick, one asset of his that I was always jealous of.

"Well, I'm here. Where's my arrival party, Lizard?" He asked.

"Stop calling me that!" I whine. I swear, everybody I know has something different to call me. He laughs, ruffling my hair.

"Anyways, I'm here because Big Bro is coming to visit tomorrow," Max says. I seal my lips, not wanting any insults of my dad coming out of my mouth. I loved my dad, for sure, but he was never around. He was more of like a business partner than a father. I'd reached the stage where I dreaded meeting my father. When he came over, it was like I lived in a military base, not a house. All I could do for Max was give him a smile, hoping he couldn't sense my disappointment.