Lucy Lahey trusted the man she was dating, and it turned out to be her biggest mistake. Reeling in the aftermath of a rape that stole not only her virginity, but her confidence, her love for MMA, her clarity and more, Lucy now finds herself in Jerse...
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Drayton and I settle on eating at a restaurant called Razza. It's fine dining pizza with a rustic wooden theme and dark bricks. The lighting is low, and the atmosphere is warm.
As soon as we walk through the establishment to find a seat, Drayton is the centre of attention. Women are watching him; men are staring but no doubt most of them support their home team and will remain in their seats. The ladies that swarm and ask for photos don't care whether he's a Cowboy, a Patriot or an Eagle, they care that he posed for Calvin Klein last Summer.
He's too polite to turn them down, so I get a two-seater table and wait until he's done. I'll never get used to seeing him garner this much attention.
It's weird knowing half the population are obsessed with my cousin, the same one who used to walk through the aisles at Walmart with me and sing Justin Bieber songs at the highest pitch his prepubescent voice would allow. He used to embarrass me so much but I would never turn down hanging out with him, he was fun.
"Yikes," he laughs, sliding into the seat opposite me. "Let's hope there's no more of that tonight."
"Dude, that's so weird to me."
"Yeah, me too."
"Really?" I ask, he's never minded the attention before.
"Super weird," he picks up the menu and starts flipping through it. "It's not like I'm used to people going nuts just because I'm in the same space as them. I'm a person, just like them. I do what I love, I play ball and I dunno. . . exist. It's weird. A girl cried when she met me last week. What the fuck?"
"Is that weird for Dallas?"
"Nope," he doesn't miss a beat as he reads his menu. "She knows she has nothing to worry about."
"Smile," I aim my phone at Drayton and he looks up, sticking his tongue out. "I'm adding that to Instagram. You're a crowd pleaser."
"Using me," he feigns a few dramatic sobs and it's obvious he doesn't care about his volume because half the restaurant looks at us and he continues to stare at his menu with nonchalance.
I read the menu as well and gape at the first option. "What the hell? This pizza doesn't even have cheese on it and it's fifteen dollars."
"For real, this menu is whack. Should we share a pepperoni and a bread platter?"
"Works for me."
We place our order with the waitress, including a drink each and I sit back, folding my arms. It's nice to be out with Drayton, to be with someone who lets me forget about real life.
"Damn, Luce. Look at those biceps. Almost bigger than mine."
That's impossible, his are the size of my head. Not that I don't have decent muscle, I do. Or, I did. The muscle is still there, I'm still lean with good definition, but I've noticed the difference since I stopped working out as hard as I used to.
