You, Me and the Sea

Chapter 2

Instead of being bothered by the fact that I'd chosen this particular restaurant, Nick seemed over-the-moon that I'd actually agreed to come with him.

We took a seat next to the massive fish tank, just behind the glass leading to the outside patio.

I was silent for a while, until a waiter came and dropped some menus at out table.

"What do you want to drink?" Nick asked.

Instead of responding, I leant forward and stared straight into his face. "Why are you so obsessed with me?"

He barely looked surprised and took to calmly setting down the laminated menu. "Who told you that?"

"My own intuition. You come right up to me at my locker, when I'm clearly on the phone, you know things about me half the school doesn't, you blatantly stare at me in class, follow me to the beach, and now you're sitting in front of me, after asking me to dinner out of nowhere, might I add. So what's your deal?"

He placed his chin on his hands and spoke almost as fast as I had. "Firstly, I didn't know you were on the phone. Secondly, I only made an observation about the books, Ryan told me about the surfing thing. Thirdly, I didn't follow you to the beach, I was just about to go for a surf myself, but I couldn't because I knew you'd stop if I went out."

"What told you that?"

"My own intuition."

I glared at him irritably.

"Seriously, why're you such a creep?" I huffed.

"I'm not allowed to try and make friends at a new school in which I have none?" he said, staring at me curiously.

"Last I heard, taking someone out on a date wasn't considered 'making friends,'" I told him.

He raised one dark eyebrow. "Who said this was a date?"

I was rarely ever embarrassed, but my cheeks were flaming right now, and I could barely contain my spluttering mouth from opening and closing like a goldfish. The silence was only broken by the waiter coming back to take our orders.

"What can I get for you today, guys?" he asked, pulling out a pen and pad.

"I'll get a coke and the fettuccini alfredo, please," Nick said, handing up his menu. I looked down frantically at mine, hoping my hair was covering my flaming cheeks.

I mumbled my order, staring down at my menu on the table. "Uhm... Can I please have a lemonade and a wood fired Genovese pizza?"

"Sure," the waiter said, scribbling on his pad and walking away.

When I looked back at Nick, he was laughing at me. "You didn't answer my question," he said.

"Nor did you answer mine. Honestly, are you like a vampire or something? Does my blood smell good? Is that why you're following me everywhere?"

"How'd you know?"

I stared at him, annoyed. "Are you always this weird?"

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Are you always this difficult?"

The waiter arrived with our drinks and I swirled around the straw. "What do you mean by difficult?" I asked.