enemies (with benefits) » l.r.h || completed

fourteen part two

Vanessa

"Would you like to get a table?" Michael asked, gesturing to one of the many that were very empty. I nodded, fiddling with my ring again. He put his hand on the small of my back, leading me over and pulling my chair out for me.

"Thank you," I smiled, sitting down. I crossed my ankles and rested my elbows on the table. Hey, at least I crossed my ankles. "so how have you been doing?"

"Been alright," he smiled, sitting next to me. He turned his whole body toward me and I flinched. Jessie told me when a guy does that, he wants to show you have his full attention and he wants yours. We're old friends, just old friends. I let out a shaky breath, rubbing my thumb over the silver. I looked down at it and smiled to myself without thinking. Luke got it for me out of the dumb machines that cost fifty cents after I practically begged him to let me get the stickers instead. God, I love him.

"That's good," I finally responded, still looking at the ring. Yeah, it was fifty cents, but the memory behind it was worth fifty million. My finger turned green every time I wore it and it was starting to turn that rusty color since it was cheap. He always told me to just take it off, but I didn't want to. I liked wearing it.

"You still wear those cheap rings?" Michael asked, pointing at my finger. I nodded, finally looking back up at him. Not the eyes, not the eyes. Oh, but his eyes were gorgeous. They were caught between blue and green and I just wanted to look at them forever. No, no. Bad Vanessa. "I'm not surprised, actually." He smiled, quite big.

"Well, uh, my boyfriend got it for me," I smiled, quite big myself, then bit on my lip. Probably shouldn't have said that. Well, yes, I should have.

"Oh," his smile wavered, starting to bite on his thumb. "why are you here if you have a boyfriend?"

"My mom doesn't like him," I said quietly, starting to wish Luke was here right now so I could show him how much I like him.

"Why does it matter what she thinks?"

"It doesn't. I had no idea I was coming here until today. I had no idea what kind of thing this was until a couple hours ago," I toyed with the fabric of the tablecloth, noticing myself looking around the room. Not so discreetly, I might add. I could feel Michael's eyes on me, and I was growing even more awkward with that.

"You honestly had no idea?" He sounded skeptical, but I didn't want to snap at him, because if it were switched I'd be asking the same thing.

"Swear. I even told Luke, my boyfriend. He said he'd show up, cause a scene, and I don't need that."

"Would it be embarrassing to you?"

"No, I just don't want him getting hurt or in trouble," I looked back at him and something in his eyes had changed. "I really didn't want to be here anyhow."

"Me either," he chuckled half-heartedly, glancing around the room. "all these girls dressed to impress someone that they'll more than likely have a one nighter with then never hear from them again. All these guys just looking for an easy lay. They never take it seriously, but the parents never seem to care." I nodded slowly, watching Michael's eyes sweep the room then land back on me. They really are pretty . . .

"Why are you here then?" I asked, resting my chin in my palm. He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Are you looking for an easy lay?"

"No," he cracked a smile. "I was forced. I'd much rather be sitting at home."

"Preaching to the choir," I mumbled, looking around the room. I mentally kicked myself for leaving my phone at home, I wanted to know if Luke was serious and if he was, where he was at. It didn't seem right just sitting here, seemingly leading Michael on, waiting for my pissed-off boyfriend to show up in a tuxedo. I genuinely wished I was single and not on my period right now so I could enjoy this dumb dinner and gorgeous dress. But at the moment, I was a nervous wreck that wanted to eat every single chicken wing I could lay my eyes on. And of course, there weren't any goddamned chicken wings here. Just finger sandwiches, champagne, and well-dressed teenagers.