Desirable

~18. Dine

Clem and Louis sat in his expensive car on the way to the dinner party. According to him, it would only be a 15-20 minute drive. He drove with one hand on the black steering wheel and the other rested on his girlfriend's thigh. She probably would have been distracted by this gesture, but her nerves were overpowering her.

She knew she wouldn't fit in with wealthy folk, she knew they would share zero mutual opinions, likes and dislikes. There was only one way she visioned this evening going - badly.

She sat with her legs closed and her jewelled hands in her lap, her fingers fiddling over each other. The boy in the driver's seat briefly glances at her, wanting to look at her properly but needing to focus on the road.

"You nervous?" he asks simply, making Clem scoff. It was a stupid and obvious question.

"Do birds fly?" she rolls her eyes, her voice crammed with attitude.

"Alright! I was only asking," he noted her attitude and grins.

Louis puts both his hands on the steering wheel and takes a breath, it sounded shaky and delayed. Clem looks over at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you nervous too?" her voice was a few touches less harsh.

"Kinda, yeah. I hate these things, I normally get invited to them. It's just a load of fucking assholes who want to brag about their houses and how much they earn," his eyebrows furrow angrily and his jaw tenses, his voice deeper than usual. 

"You make it sound great," she sighs, glancing out the window. She decides to ease the tension, "All we really have to do is sit there and be polite. It can't be that bad."

"It's stupid, the whole thing! Fuck, I can't believe my parents got me to go. And to think that they won't even let me do what I want to do in life, but I have to do what they want me to do."

Clem looks at him again, "What do you want to do?"

Louis steadily calms down, "I want to be a pianist, a real musician. They want me to be a football player, then follow my dad's footsteps in business when I'm in my thirties. They literally have every year of my life planned out until I retire."

She stays silent, half of her wanting to allow him enough time to pour his heart out, the other half not knowing what to say. His father was awful to him, he had barely any freedom. 

He makes a sharp left turn, raising her suspicion. 

"Where are we going?"

"Not to dinner," he grins, but it wasn't a happy expression. 

She didn't protest, she knew now wasn't the time. Instead, she nods and watches the road in front of them. 

Louis pulls in to a nearby park, there were only a few dog-walkers around the area as well as a family of 4 in the children's playground. He parks the car and turns off the engine, stepping out. She watches as he walks around the car to the passenger door, opening it and offering a hand to her. She takes it, accepting his help getting out. 

"A park?" she looks out at the large field beside the playground, a couple old-looking football posts are stood on either side. Louis locks the car and leads her by the hand.

"I always used to come here."

"As a kid?"

"Yep. Up until the age of 14," he looks around, nothing had changed. 

The tall boy leads her over to a bench and sits down with her beside him. The dark wood was chipped, tattooed with graffiti and initials that were linked within a heart. She keeps ahold of his hand, squeezing it gently within both of hers.