(Author's Note - Next chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews, I really appreciate knowing people are reading! Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint!)
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(If you're sleeping are you dreaming?
If you're dreaming are you dreaming of me?
I can't believe you actually picked me.)
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Lunchtime. Finally.
I waved Morris off before heading out the back to find a quiet curb to sit down and eat. He took his lunch with his girl; don't even get me started on that. She works ten blocks away – if you could call her half-assed attempt at waitressing for rich suits 'work' – and even though he had to run both ways, he still went. I kept my opinions to myself, though – first and last time I mentioned it to him, he punched me in the face, so I guess he wasn't going that soft.
The sun was out, even though it was still freezing. I took a minute after sitting down to lean back, letting the light hit my face and pretending there was some warmth that came with it. I needed the moment; it was three weeks after the incident, but I was still a little shook up. Cut me a break; I bust some heads sometimes, but I'm not a psychopath, I don't run around stabbing guys. I was mostly over the whole thing, but my nerves were still a little shot.
Which wasn't really helped when a newspaper, not warmth, slapped me right in the face.
"You got a death wish?" I demanded, grabbing the paper off my face and tearing it up. Finally looking up at my assailant, I did a double-take. "You!"
It was the girl. Took me a second to recognize her, not beaten and bloody and near-death and all, but I did. She was prettier than I remembered; long auburn hair, green eyes. Some other attractive qualities that you probably don't want to hear about. Still, pretty or not, getting a slap in the face with a paper after saving someone's life would make any guy a little annoyed. "Did you hear me?"
"I'm sorry. I was aiming for your lap." Okay, so it was right about then I noticed she was on a crutch, which forgave the aim. I already said I was edgy! It didn't seem to bother her much, though, since she smiled and went on. "You told me to come find you and pay you back. So, I am."
Her smile was weird. I guess you'd call it… shy? I don't know; we Delancey's are a lot of things, but shy ain't one of them, and that's true for most of the crowd I hang around with. Not being able to figure out what the hell her expression meant just made me more irritated.
"You're paying me back with a newspaper? I work in the distribution center – what kinda stupid are you?" I asked, making sure to tip up my hat so she could see my glare.
Her smile fell off. I guess most people would've felt bad, but I just felt kind of… victorious. That is, until the grin came back, bigger than ever. "It's all I have," she explained. "It's all I can give you."
"Well I don't want it, so… what are you doing?" My glare had to give for a minute in exchange for shock. This crazy girl turned around and sat right down next to me!
Like she was totally not aware that she was signing a death warrant, she looked over at me, still with that smile. "What about coffee, instead? I know a diner nearby that doesn't mind if you bring food in, so long as you buy something. It's too cold for you to eat outside."
"You're making a big mistake," I said, now over the shock enough to be mad again. So much for a lunch filled with peace and quiet. "You think I'm gonna go get coffee, with you? I'll tell you what I'm gonna do – I'm gonna count to ten, and then if you haven't hopped your way up and outta my sight, I'm gonna do a lot worse than those guys did. What the hell made you think I would go run off and get coffee with you?"
You'd have to have seen the sneer I was giving to get the full effect, but suffice to say, it wasn't the sweetest I've ever been. Still, the girl shrugged it off like it was nothing and answered, "Well, because you saved my life."
"Get a clue. I was just looking for a fight – you were just there. You should be thanking God for your luck, not thinking that I'm your new best pal," I snapped. My time for lunch was ticking away because of this nonsense.
"My name's Adren," she said, as if I hadn't spoken at all. "I see you every day, when I get my papers. That's how I knew your name, to answer your question from… before. I know you don't know mine, though, which is okay. You do now. It's short for Adrenaline; you know, a nickname."
"That's a stupid name," I said flatly, taking a bite out of my sandwich.
"No stupider than Oscar." I nearly choked, and even though she looked properly embarrassed, she still went on in that matter-of-fact tone before I could stop her. "Sorry. I thought we were just being honest."
I was back to glaring. "Is this why those guys were kicking the crap out of you? Because, I get it now."
"You winked at me, you know. My first day of selling," she offered.
"Oh sure, I put that in my 'special memory' box," I replied, now determined to finish my sandwich and stare at the wall ahead of me. I didn't really hit girls, and apparently she was calling my bluff. Or just testing my resolve.
"You're funny," she said, laughing a little. "You're rude, and kind of mean, but you're funny. I like you."
"I don't care," I returned. "I'm only giving you one last chance to take off because I want to finish my sandwich."
"I believe you. But, I owe you, and I'm going to pay you back, so, this is what I have to do. You do what you have to, too," she shrugged. "I was just trying to say, I've noticed you. More than you've noticed me, obviously. And I've noticed that people aren't real nice to you. So, I'd like to."
There went my stupid curiosity, again. "Like to what?"
"I'd like to be nice to you."
She just had to say it like that; like she believed it, meant it. I'd like to say that I said something really dirty about how nice she could be to me, or something like that. But the truth is, just like every idiot man who ever met a woman before me, when she blinked those green eyes at me one more time, my common sense just deserted me.
I got up. "If I let you buy me coffee, just this once, will you leave me the hell alone?"
"We can negotiate," she returned, giving a big smile as she tried to get to her feet.
I rolled my eyes and reached out, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up. "When do you get rid of this thing? You make a pretty pathetic gimp."
She stopped for a minute, looking confused. "I… can't tell if that's an insult." Then she started moving again. "Next time, when you buy me coffee, I'll tell you how long I've got with 'this thing'."
I stopped and stared at her until she got so far ahead that I had to rush to catch up. "There ain't never gonna be a next time."
There was definitely a next time.
