California Dreaming

Warm With A Touch

No way.

I consider hiding under the table and pretending I don't exist until she leaves, but before I can move at all, she meets my gaze. Her eyes immediately widen as she realizes that I'm the girl she's supposed to be meeting. The waitress grabs two menus and begins to lead her towards me, and she rigidly follows her.

"Here you guys go," says the waitress, putting the menus and two bundles of silverware on the table.

The girl with the blue eyes awkwardly slides into the seat across from me. Her dirty blonde hair covers her bare shoulders, and her lips are coated in gloss, making them shine. Her shirt has been cropped at the point where her ribs give way to her stomach, and I look back at the waitress instead of allowing my gaze to fall any lower.

"Can I start you guys off with some drinks?"

"Water," I say.

"Pink lemonade," says the girl with blue eyes.

Once the waitress has left, the girl looks straight at me, her lazy eyes indicating that she's as unimpressed as she was when we met at the soccer complex.

"So you're Cindy's kid?

I nod, forcing myself to meet her judgmental gaze. "Yeah."

"My mom told me you just moved here from New Jersey."

"Yeah."

"She also said you didn't have any friends."

"I have friends," I say quickly. "They're just . . . "

"Thousands of miles away?"

The waitress comes and sets our drinks down on the table, and the girl takes a long sip of her pink lemonade before speaking again.

"I'm Alex."

I nod. "Tobin."

"Tobin?" She draws her eyebrows together. "What kind of name is that?"

"It was my grandmother's," I say. "Her last name."

She looks down. "Shit. Sorry."

"It was before I was born," I say, wondering how the conversation managed to end up here.

"Is the rest of your family back in New Jersey?"

I nod. "Yeah. Just me and my mom out here."

"Do you like it?"

I shrug. "It's alright, I guess."

Would be better if I could actually practice.

The waitress comes back and pulls a notepad out of her apron to take our orders. Alex orders a veggie burger, while I order a turkey sandwich. I'm not particularly hungry, but I guess I could just take home whatever I don't finish and eat it later.

"Are you a vegetarian?" I ask.

"Vegan," she says. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna try to convert you or anything."

"I wasn't thinking that," I say quietly, and then lean forward to take a sip of my drink.

Except I somehow miscalculate where the straw is and end up poking myself in the eye with it. I automatically lean back, holding my hand over half of my face and cursing under my breath.