“You’re into cars then?” I followed her until we reached a picnic table. She climbed on top of the bench and plopped down on the table, folding her legs in, she turned to me. I joined her.
“Not really. I needed a new one and the dealer convinced me I needed this one.” She was making me so… aware of myself. My friends had always called me names and teased me about my family's money, but I’d never really cared until now.
“What are you into then?” she asked.
“Movies. Music. I like Iron Maiden, do you like them?”
She made a sour face. “No! I listen to a lot of hip hop and R&B. My roommate is obsessed with Selena right now.”
“Selena?”
“You don’t know who Selena is?” She slapped my shoulder. Her chocolate eyes lit up. “Selena is the biggest Tejano singer out there right now!”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Her accent had come on thicker when she got excited. It was adorable. She rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Spanish music. It’s so good! Hold up. If you listen to one of my tapes, I’ll listen to one of yours.”
“Right now?” I looked around. It was nearly three a.m. “I mean, I probably have my Walkman somewhere in the car.”
“No, silly.” She rolled her eyes again. “Later. Look, I’ll make you a mix of all my favorite songs and you can come get it next time you’re at the diner.”
God, how gorgeous she looked with her eyes to the sky and a smirk on her lips.
“I’m invited back, then?”
“I can’t really say no. I don’t own the place.” She laughed again. “But sure. You come in and we’ll trade tapes. Put whatever you want on it.”
“What about you?” I asked. “What do you do for fun?”
“Fun? I can’t afford fun. Especially now that my roommate is leaving.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d never had to worry about money.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s nothing. I like art,” she said.
“What kind of art?”
“All kinds. I like to draw, paint, and play with clay. Anything that gets my mind stirred. But I mostly draw.”
“Like fruit or animals?”
“People, I like drawing people.”
We sat and shot the shit for hours until the sun poked out of the trees.
“I didn’t realize it was so late. Or early.” She yawned.
“Yeah, sorry about that. We should get you home.”
“What about you? Don’t you have a job? Aren’t you tired?” She uncrossed her legs and began to scoot off the table. I panicked. Despite her acting like she didn’t judge me for my family’s wealth, I didn’t want to make it worse.
“I work nights. I took some time off for my birthday,” I lied.
“Where do you work?” My mind ran through a list of places that would make sense. Night shift, but she couldn’t come visit. Ever.
“The Pleasure Den!” I blurted. She stopped in her tracks. Why did I say that of all places?
