Date: Tue, 26 May 2009 17:42:41 -0400 From: walrus owner <walrus5644@hotmail.com> Subject: Let Me Fall, chapter 3 Author's Note: Please e-mail me saying what you think! The joy that you get from this story is what keeps me going with it :) Also, please be aware that some places mentioned in this story are FICTIONAL. Some things may be factual (for example, the Five Civilized Tribes Museum being in Oklahoma, or the Southcenter Mall in Seattle), whereas some things, such as "Myer's Grill" and "Didier's Café" are FICTIONAl. Thank you. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "By the way," Neil started as we walked towards the café. "What food dose the café serve?" "Italian and French." "Seriously?" "Seriously!" "Where can I get some American food?" he asked. "Uh, like what? Hamburgers?" "No, like fried chicken and mashed potatoes." "Try Texas." I said. "Spare me. Fried chicken is eaten everywhere." he said. "Alright. On the real, you can get it at Myer's Grill." I grinned. "Wanna take me there?" he asked. "No, I want to let you starve." I said. "Try being less sarcastic. I was only being polite." he sounded kind of annoyed. "Alright, I'll be nice. But only because you'll rip my head off if I'm not." I said, feeling kind of bad. "I just might." he smiled. "'At a boy." I grinned. "You're pushing it." "Whatever. Have you ever considered trimming your legs?" "What!? Are you a beautician now?" "Yes, actually." I said, failing to surpress my sarcasm. "Either way, I like my legs." he said, looking over his shoulder at his calves as he walked. "Besides, do I look like a swimmer?" "It depends on how you mean that.." I said, stealing glances at his muscles. I felt kind of dorky. "Despite how I mean it, I'm not a swimmer. So, as far as I'm concerned, hairy legs are fine." he stuck out his chest proudly. "You're weird." I said flatly. "I do what I can." he said as we approached the counter of the restaurant. "Welcome to Myer's Grill, what can I get for you?" The cashier asked him. "Two orders of your fried chicken strips and fries, and a large strawberry banana smoothie, please." he said. How did he manage to sound so polite all the time? It's like it was an innate quality. "Will that be all?" the cashier asked, hardly hiding her expression of disbelief. "Did you want anything?" he asked as he turned to me. "I don't have any money." I said, looking at the ground. "I'll pay. I owe you for earlier." he said. I didn't quite think that was true, but it was generous anyway. "I'll just eat some of your fries." I said. "You sure?" "It's fine, really." I said. "Alright." he said as he paid the cashier Our food was done cooking faster than I expected, and we made our way over to an empty table in the corner of the vibrant restaurant. "So, how on Earth do you plan to eat all that food?" I asked him as he salted the chicken. "I'm hungry. It's very simple." he said. "So, do you have a pit in your stomach?" "In a sense." "Whatever works for you. So, what do you think of the food?" I asked. "Well.. nothing beats a home cooked meal. But I got my money's worth." he said knowingly. "Haha, I haven't had a home cooked meal in forever." I said, which was too true. "That'll change now that you know me." he said, looking up from his chicken. "What're you gonna do, cook for me?" "I just might!" he grinned with his mouth full. "Don't talk with your mouth full." I said. "Alright Mom." he snickered. "Be nice." I said as I reached for a fry. "So anyway, do you just eat fast food, or what?" he asked me. "Yeah, mostly." "How do you stay skinny then?" he asked. "I'm not skinny." I said. "How much do you weigh?" "125. What about you?" I asked. "185 or so." he said casually. "Wow, and I thought I was fat." I snickered jokingly. "Does this look like fat to you?" he asked, flexing his right arm. "Definitely." I said, watching his bicep nearly tear his polo's fabric. "Smart alec." "Don't you mean smartass?" "I only use swear words when they're necessary. I told you that." he said. "Oh, yeah. I forgot." I said. I was really just teasing him. "Okay, so you've set a new record. You finished approximately twenty chicken strips, two orders of fries, and a large smoothie in about three minutes." "I'm still kind of hungry." he said. "So if I punched you in the stomach now would you throw up?" I asked. "I probably wouldn't feel it." "Bullshit." I said. "You're a silly person, you know that? So violent. It's a good thing you're not me." he grinned. "Why? Do you think I'd randomly kick people's asses?" "Actually, yes." he said. "Well, you're wrong." I nodded to myself in reassurance. "Whatever you say." "Now that you've filled the hole in your stomach, what do you want to do?" I asked. "You're the tour guide. What is there to do?" "We could a) meet people, or b) go shopping." "I actually need new shoes." "What size do you wear?" "16." "What the hell? So when you're kickboxing, do you just lift up your foot and watch it envelope their face, or what?" I said. "Size 16 isn't that big. I'm pretty tall." he said. "Contrary to common belief, that doesn't matter." I nodded knowingly. "It's still not that big. It matches my body." "Whatever. So what, your Adidas aren't working for you anymore?" "Not really." he said. "So what do you want? Snowshoes?" "You're pushing it again." "It's what I do best." I grinned. "Find a new forté. Anyway, I was thinking of just getting normal skate shoes." he said. "Oh, so you skate too?" "No. That's just what they're called." "So, you mean like Etnies or DCs, as opposed to ASICS or Nike?" I asked. "Precisely." he said. "And you just walk around packing hundreds?" I raised my eyebrows. "Well, not literally, but yeah I keep my money with me." he said. "Why?" "Why not? It's not like I'm going to get jumped." "Keep that cocky attitude and I might do it myself." I said. I was joking of course, but I wanted to prove a point. "There's a difference between being confident and cocky. Besides, you'd hurt yourself." he grinned. "Funny guy." I said. "Honest, too." He added. "Don't you just love the smell of shoe stores?" "No. My urge to wait outside is growing rapidly." I said. "I'll hurry. What about these?" He pulled out a pair of white DCs. "They don't contrast well with your farmer's tan." I said. "Are you just being sarcastic?" "No, I'm serious." I said. "Alright." he said, putting them back. "I didn't really like them either." "What about these?" I grabbed a pair of black pumas from a shelf. "Those are rad." he said as I handed them to him. "I wonder if they even have my size." "Hey, right here." I said, pulling out a large box. "Man bigfoot, these are huge." "Don't call me that." his face turned red. "It's embarrassing. Just because you have girly feet and I don't." "Whatever. Are we really talking about feet? Gross." I said. "You started it." he shrugged as he paid for the shoes. "Damn, you got money in the bank." I smirked. "Shawty what ya drank?" he grinned. Honestly, that was the funniest thing I had ever heard; some Oklahoman farmboy quoting a rap song. I seriously couldn't stop laughing. "You must not laugh often." Neil said. "Hey, don't be depressing. Of course I do!" I said, though that wasn't entirely true. "You don't have to cover the truth." "I'm not!" "Alright, then. What's your homelife like?" he asked as he looked me straight in the eye. "It's, uh, different." I shrugged. "Your voice was shaky. You aren't being completely honest." "Tell me about yours first." "I already have. I live with my little sister and my mom. Now come on, stop stalling." he said. God, his green eyes were so piercing. I felt like I could write an autobiography right then and there and just read it to him. "Alright. I live with my mom and brother." I said. "So, do you get along with them?" "Well, in a sense. My mom is always working to keep food on the table. That's a figure of speech by the way; she never cooks." I said. "And your brother?" "He's nineteen. He generally keeps to himself, but he can get a little.. physical." Now it was my time to turn red with embarrassment. "What do you mean?" he asked, though I was sure he already knew. "Hey, don't go all DHS on me. Isn't it what older brothers are for?" I shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't know." he said. "You mean you don't ever beat up on your sister jokingly." "I might wrestle around with her some, but I don't hit girls." "Such a gentleman." I snickered. "Alright man, we're definitely going at it tonight." "You think so." I said. "Let's go ahead and just leave." "So soon? Don't we have to find some shawtys?" he snickered. "Fuck that." "Watch your language." "OK Dad." I shrugged. "Hey, let's get a movie so we aren't dying of boredom all night." "Are you calling me boring?" "Yes, that's exactly what I'm implying. Come on." I said as I walked to the Blockbuster on the second floor. "Whatever. What kind of movies do you like?" "Pornos." I nodded in selfassurance. "Seriously." "Alright. You tell me first." "Horror." he said. "Oh, I see. You wanna make me scared so you can make fun of me all night, huh?" "Haha, paranoid much? No. I just like them." he said. "Fine, 'The Haunting in Connecticut' it is." I said, grabbing it off the shelf. "Hey, I don't get a say in this?" he raised his eyebrows. "In your dreams." I grinned, walking up to the counter. "Meanie." he said as he paid for the rental. "Meanie?" I asked as we walked out. "I thought you were in the 10th grade, not the 2nd." I giggled. "Be nice." he said. I really had trouble grasping the fact that he could put up with my sarcasm and keep his cool. Maybe some people are just born with serenity. One thing was for sure, though; such serenity didn't belong to people with broken homes like mine. Why had I stopped myself from telling Neil the truth? He wasn't an asshole; he would've known what to say. But something just kept the words from coming out as we drove through downtown Seattle. At least I could find some clarity within his precense as he looked over at me and smiled. How long would I be able to conceal the secrets behind my blue eyes before my tears revealed them?