The Feel of Water

Sixteen - Something Pretty

A/N: Five more! Thanks for supporting!

*****

Sean takes us to the same booth we were in last time, and I conclude that this restaurant, and this booth, is another one of his spots. I take my seat, still a little shaky, but doing better by the minute. "So what is it about this place?" I ask him.

"I used to come here with my Dad after every one of my games," he says. "These days I come here with some guys from the team, though."

"You never took Jen after your games?"

Sean shakes his head. "No. After every game, the cheerleaders have a sleepover at one of their houses."

"But Jen isn't a cheerleader."

"They just like it when she comes. She would go over with her friends. God knows what they do."

I lean back. "Huh. Probably some pretty weird stuff."

A waitress takes our orders, and once she walks away, I say, "Thanks, you know, for understanding back there."

"You said that's what happened to your parents. That they were going out to dinner."

"Yeah, they were driving to a restaurant for their anniversary dinner. Emilie and I were at my Aunt's house. Someone ran a red light and crashed into the driver's side, killing my dad on site. My mom died later in the hospital from severe injuries. It's just a sick coincidence, I guess. It really got to me, but you were really nice about it, and it means a lot."

"I'm just sorry it happened," he says.

"Anyway," I start, changing the subject, "homecoming is tomorrow and I think my date dumped me."

One of his brows raises a little. "Becca dumped you? Didn't I say that she was going to find a date?"

"You did. So I guess she's going with some guy from her English class, leaving me dateless."

Sean pulls a terribly sarcastic, sympathetic face. "Be sure to print me a copy of your solo homecoming photo. I'll pin it in my locker."

"You know, Sean, you'd make a wonderful teenage girl. Your casual bitchiness is off the charts." I kick his shin under the table.

"Hey! Careful there. You can't go injuring the quarterback."

I cross my arms. "No one has to get hurt. You just better take me to homecoming."

"Is that a threat?"

I think for a moment, then pout. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

"Alright, alright. No need to throw any punches there, Mayweather. I'll take you to homecoming, but you'll owe me."

"Owe you? What do you want?"

Sean waves me off. "I'll let you know when the time comes."

"Fine," I agree, holding back my smile. "It's a deal."

Our drinks are brought to us, so I take a sip. I notice Sean staring, thinking about something.

"Wear something pretty, will you?"

My lips part and I push my drink away from me. "You're asking for it, Sean Donovan," I say. "Don't make me come over there."

"You won't," he bets, continuing our game.

"I will."

"Then do it. Come over here."

I swiftly get up from my seat and slide beside Sean. He pinches my side, so I fight off his arms. When he doesn't give up, I gasp dramatically and grab his hand, holding his palm faced up. "Oh my god. Your palm lines. Do you know what this means?"