Saturday mornings were Felicity's favorite time of day because it meant two things: doughnuts and girl talk.
Every Saturday morning, she met Iris and Laurel at the Mud House for coffee and doughnuts. It was their time, where they could recap their weeks, gossip about their lives, and revel in each other's company.
This particular morning, Felicity and Iris were both dying to hear about what happened between Tommy Merlyn and Laurel after they left the Beach Bash. It had not escaped Felicity's attention that she didn't hear Laurel come up the stairs until one in the morning.
Laurel must have known what her friends were expecting, because the minute she sat down at their regular table with her mocha latte, the first words out of her mouth were, "I didn't sleep with him."
"Ha!" Felicity crowed. She held her hand out toward Iris who grumbled as she reached into her purse. "I told you!"
"Damn it, Laurel," Iris muttered as she slapped a five dollar bill into Felicity's outstretched palm.
Felicity smirked at her friend, then turned back to her sister. "Far be it for me to chastise you for winning me an easy five bucks, but what stopped you? You two looked really cozy at the Beach Bash."
Laurel shrugged, but there was a soft smile that played across her lips as she looked down at her drink. "I don't know," she said. "It didn't really cross my mind, to be honest. We were just so swept up in our conversation that by midnight, we realized that everyone else had left and the fire was dying out."
"Aww," Iris sighed. "That is the cutest thing in the world."
Felicity rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. You two yammered on so much that you forgot to bone. Absolutely adorable."
Laurel kicked her sister under the table, but Felicity just laughed in return.
"It's not like that, OK?" she said with a chuckle of her own. "I mean, yeah, I definitely think he's attractive, but there's more to him. He's not just some handsome, rich playboy. He's sweet and funny and charming. And he's such a good friend. He spent so much time talking about Oliver and how he was the best friend a guy could ever ask for."
The mention of Oliver Queen abruptly sent Felicity's mood plummeting. It brought back the memory of the night before, when she overheard Oliver and Tommy talking, and Oliver then decided to insult her intelligence.
"Lissy?" Iris asked. "What's with your face? Are you OK?"
"Yeah, just...ugh, Oliver Queen," she grimaced as she stirred her coffee. "It's so weird to me that Tommy can be such good friends with someone like him."
"What do you mean?" Laurel inquired.
Felicity took in a deep breath. Once she told them what Oliver had said about her, there really would be no turning back for any of them. Oliver insulting one of the Smoak-Lances was just not tolerated among the town, and what was worse was insulting Felicity's intelligence — doing so made you persona non grata in Hertfordshire.
But Laurel was her cherished sister and Iris was her best friend. If Felicity was going to tell anyone, she most certainly was going to tell them first.
So she recounted the conversation to the best of her recollection. When she was finished, Laurel's jaw was practically hanging an inch off the ground and Iris' eyes were burning with a fury Felicity had rarely seen in her friend.
"What?" Iris screeched. "He said that? Are you freaking kidding me?"
Felicity shook her head primly as she took a sip of her coffee. "Nope. Not only does he think I'm an idiot, he thinks this whole town is full of idiots."
"Of all the ever-loving nerve!" Iris exclaimed. "Does he know that you had the highest GPA at North Shore High? Does he know that you read astrophysics textbooks in your downtime? Does he know that MENSA offered you a scholarship to MIT?"
"Somehow I don't think he does," Felicity answered. But her best friend's full-throated support of her intelligence definitely lifted her spirits.
"And just who does he think he is to be judging intelligence!" Iris continued. "Ugh, I just can't believe this!"
"Lissy, I'm so sorry," Laurel said, reaching across the table to squeeze her sister's hand with hers. "He is an ass."
Felicity squeezed back and smiled at her sister and her friend. "Don't worry about it," she assured them. "He is an ass, but you ladies are the best for making me feel better about his assholery."
And with that, she gently steered the conversation back to Tommy. Laurel recounted a few of the high points of the conversation, and Felicity marveled at the sudden change she saw in her sister. Laurel never got mushy over a boy. Ever.
This was a first for her, and Felicity couldn't have been happier for her sister.
"OK, OK, I can't take it anymore! Is he taking you on a date or not?" Felicity demanded.
Laurel blushed. "If you really must know, he's planning on taking me out to dinner tonight."
That sent Felicity and Iris into a fit of squeals, followed closely by a few rounds of "Laurel and Tommy, sitting in a tree."
"Well now that we've successfully re-lived the third grade," Laurel deadpanned as she bit into a doughnut.
"Did he say where he was going to take you?" Felicity asked.
"No, but I'm not worried," Laurel answered. "I'm just excited to be spending time with him.
The three of them immediately launched into a discussion of what Laurel should wear and how she should do her hair and makeup, but the woman in question eventually had to leave the Mud House to go back to the office and research something for a case she was working. That left Felicity and Iris alone at the coffee shop.
"Isn't this great?" Felicity sighed as she sipped her second cup of coffee. "I've never seen her so starry-eyed before. She really likes him."
"Yeah," Iris nodded. "I just hope Tommy will notice that."
That made Felicity's eyebrows quirk upward. "What do you mean?"
Iris shrugged. "Laurel's always been the gorgeous, cool beauty, everywhere she goes. She doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, which has been part of her appeal. It makes her seem mysterious. It makes guys everywhere want to date her to get under her icy exterior."
Icy exterior? That made Felicity laugh. "What in the world are you talking about? Laurel's like the kindest person in the world! No one would ever call her icy, never in a million years!"
"Well you and I know that," Iris insisted. "We've known her all our lives. But people who don't know her as well as we do don't know how to read her. We know that she likes Tommy a lot, but he might not know that."
"She's just modest," Felicity said dismissively. "That's how she is."
"Look, all I'm saying is boys are notoriously dumb at reading women," Iris reasoned. "Laurel should really err on the side of caution and make it absolutely clear that she likes him, before he gets the wrong idea."
But Felicity didn't think much of Iris' warning. Her sister was the catch of all catches: she was smart, beautiful and kind. Any guy would be lucky to have the chance to date her. Surely Tommy Merlyn was smart enough to know his good fortune.
Eventually Felicity also had to leave, since she volunteered for a half shift at the bookstore. She walked through the front door with a to-go cup of the Mud House's dark brew she grabbed for Walter. When she presented it to him, he looked up and beamed at her.
"Thank you, my dear," he said warmly as he took the cup from her. "And thank you again for agreeing to take on a weekend shift. I know there are many other things you'd much rather be doing than working on a Saturday afternoon."
"Don't worry about it, Walter," she smiled. "It's the start of the busy season, I wasn't about to let you take on the crowds on your own."
"You make me sound like an invalid."
"Not at all. Just mildly incompetent when it comes to computers. And I spent a lot of time on that inventory system, so I'm not about to let you break it because you accidentally hit F12 or something."
That made him laugh, and Felicity returned his smile.
With that, she jumped into work, restocking the shelves and doing inventory. There was a steady influx of customers, but about two hours into her shift, Caitlin Snow came running into the store, clutching her laptop to her chest and wearing a terrified expression on her face.
"Felicity!" she shouted once she saw the woman in question. "Felicity, I need your help! Something happened with my laptop while I was working on a big presentation! It went on the fritz and then it went black, and I don't know what to do!"
"OK," Felicity said soothingly, reaching forward to pat Caitlin on the shoulder. "It's OK. We'll figure this out."
Taking the laptop from her, Felicity took the machine up to the counter and plugged it into the laptop she kept behind the cash register. After running a few recovery programs, she transferred all the files from the compromised machine onto a jump drive.
"Here you go," Felicity grinned, handing Caitlin the drive and the laptop. "I managed to get all the information off your computer and put it on this, but it looks like the hardware might be fried. You really ran this thing into the ground."
"Yeah," Caitlin said with a sigh as she took the drive and the broken computer. "This thing got me through undergrad and med school. It feels like the end of an era."
"If you want, I can suggest some new models if you're looking to replace it," Felicity offered.
"That would be great, but right now I really have to get this presentation finished by tomorrow. I have to convince the hospital board to give me five million dollars to invest in next generation heart surgery."
"Oh, wow," Felicity nodded solemnly. "Then get out of here, Dr. Snow. Go save lives."
"Thank you so much, Lissy," Caitlin gushed with a warm smile and a hug. "You definitely saved my life today."
"No worries," she answered as she returned her hug. "I'll see you around."
Caitlin waved goodbye before disappearing out the door. But her retreating figure made the next person in line plainly visible.
To Felicity's great misfortune, it was none other than Oliver Queen.
"Oh," she said, barely trying to conceal her displeasure at his presence. "Hello."
Oliver was a towering presence in that tiny, cramped bookstore. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a henley, but it was clear that he didn't belong there. He was far too dignified to exist even within a meter of Hertfordshire, but still. There he was, a stack of books under his arms.
If he sensed her coldness, he didn't show it. With raised eyebrows, he stepped forward with his selection.
"I thought this was a bookstore, not a laptop repair place," he said.
"It is," Felicity answered tersely.
"Yes, we are first and foremost a bookstore," Walter piped in as he walked toward the counter from the back storage room. "However, that doesn't stop several people in town from seeking out dear Felicity here."
He raised an eyebrow in a weirdly accusatory way and Felicity suddenly felt defensive.
"I'm really good with computers," she said defiantly.
"Oh, don't be modest, my dear," Walter said genially. "You're the best with computers! Really all manner of technology. She's set up every wireless Internet network in town, practically. And she was the one who came up with our inventory system — it's the most efficient, sophisticated program I've ever come across, and it's so easy to use that even I can't screw it up!"
Walter let out a hearty laugh, but all Oliver offered was a polite smile. It was all Felicity could do to stop herself from growling at him.
"Would you like me to check you out?" When she realized how those words sounded in her head, she felt her cheeks flush and she forced her gaze down. "I didn't mean like check you out out, not like anything sexual, I just meant like with the books you're holding, you might want to like pay for them or whatever."
He paused in seeming surprise at her rambling outburst. "I knew what you meant," he said. "And yes, please." He stepped forward to put the books on the counter.
Felicity made quick work of ringing them up, but she couldn't help but notice how different all the titles were. When tourists came to the store, they usually bought light, beach novels. It was why they had a large display of light, easy-reading novels in the front of the store, right by the entrance.
But Oliver definitely had not picked out any of the novels from the display. Instead he picked out a secondhand anthology of Noam Chomsky's works, a linguistics textbook and C.S. Lewis' Study in Words.
Yeah, definitely not light beach reading.
"I've been trying to educate myself on the history of communication, and how it can be applied in more of a business setting," he said.
"I didn't ask," Felicity responded, her eyes trained on the cash register's monitor.
"You said it didn't look like very light reading," Oliver pointed out.
She bit down hard on her lip. She'd always had an annoying habit of saying things out loud that really should never have escaped the confines of her brain, and of course that habit would have to rear its ugly head in front of Oliver friggin' Queen.
"Your total is twenty-two sixty-three," she said as she put the books in a plastic bag for him.
He pulled two bills out of his wallet and tossed them over the counter. "Keep the change," he told her grabbing the plastic bag and walking out of the bookstore.
She looked down at the cash he left: two twenties. His change would have been seventeen dollars, and for some reason that infuriated her. Just because you could afford to throw away seventeen dollars didn't mean you should. What a dickbag move, she thought to herself.
But whatever. It was his money, he could do whatever. And now it's officially my money, she thought to herself as she pocketed the change with a smirk.
It was like Walter said: every little bit counts.
The next morning, Felicity stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom that separated her room and Laurel's.
Except Laurel was already in it. And she was hugging the toilet.
"Whoa," she muttered, stopping short of her sister sitting on the floor, her head hanging over the bowl. "Laurel, what's wrong?"
She groaned. "Lissy...I feel like I'm dying…"
Felicity stepped forward and crouched down next to her sister, rubbing slow circles over her back and in between her shoulder blades. "When did this start?"
"Probably an hour ago," Laurel sighed, pulling her hair back from her face. "I woke up this morning with the overwhelming need to puke out my insides, so yay me."
A fresh wave of nausea overtook Laurel and jerked her head forward to heave. Felicity held her sister's hair back, but also turned her head so she wouldn't have to take in the smell.
"Do you think it's something you ate from last night?" Felicity asked when Laurel had finished.
"Probably," she groaned. "He took me to the Anchorhead."
Felicity made a noise of understanding. The Anchorhead was a seafood place known for playing fast and loose with food safety regulations. How the place was still in operation was a mystery.
"Oh no," Laurel suddenly cried out. "What if Tommy's sick too? I have to go see him! I have to make sure he's OK!"
Laurel tried to get up, but her muscles were too weak and Felicity wasn't about to let her go anywhere. "Don't worry about that right now," Felicity insisted. "Right now you're in no condition to be anywhere but this bathroom. Stay here, I'm going to get you a glass of water so you don't dehydrate."
She ran down to the kitchen, then returned to Laurel still draped over the toilet bowl. "Ugh, this is the worst I've ever felt, and that's including the time Dad signed me up for the pie eating contest at the Fall Festival of 2003."
"You poor thing," Felicity murmured. She knelt down and gave her sister her water as she gently brushed away the hair stuck to her sweat covered face. "But aside from the food poisoning, was it at least a good date?"
Laurel smiled feebly. "Yeah, it was. He was sweet. He brought flowers when he came and picked me up. He even got two bouquets: red roses for me and white roses for Mom. She's half in love with him already."
Felicity chuckled. Everyone knew the quickest way to Donna Smoak's heart was with flowers of any kind. Tommy must have done his homework.
"After dinner, we went for a walk on the beach," Laurel continued.
"Typical," Felicity snorted.
"Don't judge, Lissy! We held hands and just talked and we watched the sunset." Laurel sighed. "Then he kissed me as we were sitting on the sand. It was just the two of us. No one else in the world. And you know me, I'm not really the romance-y type at all. I never believed the fireworks in all those romance novels actually existed, but with him...with him, they did."
Felicity couldn't help but grin, her heart melting as Laurel laid out the scene for her. "I'm so happy for you," she grinned, leaning forward to give her sister a hug. "You totally deserve this. Especially after all the douchebags you've dated in the past. Like that one artsy tourist loser who kept writing you emo poetry, then disappeared once the season was over."
"Oh my God, don't remind me," Laurel groaned, and it only made Felicity laugh.
Eventually Laurel's nausea had died down, but she was still feeling weak, so Felicity helped her sister up and back to her room. Once she was settled in her bed with a wastebasket at the ready, Felicity went about her morning routine, taking her shower and getting dressed.
Once she got to the kitchen for her morning cup of java, she saw her father sitting at the kitchen table with his newspaper, as usual, a mug of lukewarm coffee sitting beside him.
"Hey Dad," she greeted him.
He grunted his response.
"Where's Mom?"
"She said something about a sale down at the Polka-Dotted Pig or something," he said, not looking up from the paper. "You know how she gets."
Felicity chuckled. "Yeah. Lord knows we don't need another garden gnome in a Hawaiian shirt, though."
Quentin snorted, then folded his paper back up and set it aside. "So, what are you up to today?"
She sipped on her piping hot coffee. "The Daily Record contracted me to digitize their old editions that they still have on microfiche, so I'm probably going to be spending most of the day doing that."
He made a face at her. "When did that start?"
"Iris called me about it last week. I know it's a long job, but they're paying me hourly, and I don't have a set schedule. I just come in whenever I have a spare moment."
Quentin sighed. "Lissy, don't you think you've been working a little too hard recently?"
Felicity raised her eyebrows. "Not at all."
"You already worked half a shift at the bookstore yesterday, and it was a Saturday. Now you're going to work on a Sunday."
Felicity fidgeted a little uncomfortably. They were broaching a topic that they had not discussed and had chosen to leave untouched for five years.
"You should slow down every now and then and try to enjoy yourself. This is supposed to be the prime of your life. You're supposed to be spending your weekends with your friends, enjoying your youth. You're not supposed to be working yourself to the bone."
"I'm not," she said gently. "I'm just...I'm just trying to save up extra cash, you know?"
Quentin sighed. For a moment, Felicity caught a glimpse at just how tired and...just sad her father looked. It pulled her forward to sit at the table next to him and slip her hand into his. "Don't worry about me," she grinned. "I'm still enjoying myself, OK? I still get to spend time with my friends. I just also happen to be working a lot."
He looked at her with a searching expression. "I just worry sometimes that we robbed you of your youth," he said quietly.
It felt like a fist squeezing around her chest, but she pushed that feeling away and plastered a bright smile to her face. "Dad," she chided, "that's ridiculous. You didn't rob me of anything. I promise."
That brought a temporary smile to his face, but remnants of sadness remained in his eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're a good kid, Lissy."
She squeezed his hand reassuringly and grinned back at him before getting back up to throw a piece of bread into the toaster.
"By the way, I think Laurel's got food poisoning," she said. "Tommy Merlyn apparently took her to the Anchorhead last night."
Quentin grunted. "Not a bright one, is he?"
That made Felicity roll her eyes. Her stepfather had never been very fond of any of the men Laurel dated, despite the fact that there weren't many to begin with. He contended that none of them were good enough for his beloved daughter, and Felicity found herself agreeing with him more often than not.
Tommy, however, seemed different.
"He's a tourist, Dad," she said, sipping at her coffee. "You know that place is basically a tourist trap."
He grunted his reply.
When Felicity's toast was finished, she wolfed it down quickly and finished off her coffee. Then she waved goodbye to her stepfather and headed out the door, but the minute she opened it, someone was already standing on the front step, his fist raised as if to knock.
It was none other than Tommy Merlyn himself.
"Oh," she greeted in surprise. "Tommy! What are you doing here?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Felicity. I'm, um, well I came over because Laurel said something about not feeling well and I wanted to see her."
Felicity felt her heart melt at the idea. There were few things sweeter than a guy coming to visit the girl he liked while she was feeling sick. Glancing down, she noticed he was even holding a bag that looked like it was filled with food and other comfort items.
"Come on in," she said, stepping aside and letting him in. "She's upstairs — her room's on the left."
"Thanks," he smiled. "I just feel so terrible that I got her sick. Lesson learned, I'm never going to the Anchorhead again."
Felicity smiled. "Good call."
She was about to turn and walk out the door, but Tommy said, "You know, maybe I think we could all go out some time."
She paused mid step, then turned slowly to face him, her face frozen in a careful mask. "We?" she asked.
"Yeah. You, Laurel, Oliver and me," he said with a genial grin. "It would be a lot of fun."
Felicity's eye twitched. Not by any stretch of the imagination, sober or hopped up on meth, could a double date with Oliver Queen be considered fun.
"We'll see," she hedged, trying very hard to keep her voice neutral. "Anyway, you have to go see Laurel and I have to be somewhere. I'll see you later."
She waved goodbye before her face and bolted out the door could dissolve into a grimace of disgust. Ugh, just the thought of going on a double date with Oliver Queen made her feel like she got her own bout of food poisoning.
Walking down to the Daily Record, she could only hope that by the time she got home, the subject would be dropped.
Unfortunately, no such luck was to be had. She got home later that night and collapsed onto her bed, rubbing her tired eyes under her glasses to get rid of the ache of staring at a computer screen all day. But the minute she started to relax, a soft knock came at her door.
"Come in," she called.
Laurel opened the door, still dressed in her pajamas. "Hey," she smiled.
"Hey yourself," Felicity answered with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better," she answered, settling onto the bed next to her sister.
"Yeah, I bet the visit of a certain young millionaire certainly helped."
Laurel shoved gently at her sister, but Felicity just laughed.
"Speaking of which, Tommy actually shared an interesting idea while he was over," she began.
Felicity felt her heart drop in her chest, knowing what would come next.
"Tommy told me that Oliver has had some trouble getting out and enjoying himself," she began. "And he actually suggested that we all go out to dinner some time."
Felicity groaned and pressed a hand over her face. "Laurel…"
"I know, I know! This is probably the last thing in the world that you'd like to do, but I really think you should give him a second chance! He was probably just nervous."
"He called me stupid, Laurel," Felicity reminded her. "Me. He called me stupid. There are a lot of things that I am, but stupid is not one of them."
"Come on, Lissy," Laurel whined. She puckered her lower lip in an absurd pout. "Please do it. For me? Pleeeeaaaase?"
Felicity sighed. She loved her sister dearly, and she could never say no to her.
"Fine," she bit out. "I'll go, but I'm not going to have any fun."
Felicity's declaration turned out to be less a declaration and more so a prediction.
Laurel and Tommy did the bulk of the planning, and they agreed to meet each other at The Place for dinner on Wednesday evening. Felicity would have gone to the dinner dressed in her sweats, but Laurel wouldn't allow it.
Which was precisely why Felicity was wearing a white sundress with pink and red roses printed all over it, coupled with a pair of strappy gold wedges and gold hoop earrings to match. Laurel had also forced her to put on makeup, so she actually would look presentable for the evening.
"Remember, one snide remark or insult and I am out of there," Felicity hissed at her sister before they entered the restaurant.
"I know, I know," Laurel whispered. "I promise I won't stop you."
The restaurant was crowded with a mix of tourists and locals when they walked in. Donna swooped by, her arms loaded with empty plates. "Hi, darlings. Your cute dates are over in the corner booth," she winked.
Laurel grinned and grabbed Felicity's arm, leading them both to the corner booth. Sure enough, Tommy and Oliver were already there.
"Hey," Tommy grinned, standing up once he spotted them. He gave Felicity a quick hug then gave Laurel a much longer one. "It's nice to see you ladies. You both look lovely. Don't they, Oliver?"
The man himself made a noncommittal grunt.
Laurel slid into the seat next to Tommy while Felicity tamped down her dread and slowly sat down next to Oliver.
"I must say, I'd never expected a restaurant called 'The Place' to be quite so busy," Tommy joked.
"Oh, it's the best restaurant in town," Laurel nodded. "The owner used to work at a fancy restaurant in Star City, but then he moved out here because he wanted to be near the ocean."
"Then you'd think the chef would pick out a more descriptive name than 'The Place,'" Oliver muttered under his breath.
Felicity rolled her eyes before shaking her napkin out from under her utensils and draping it over her lap.
Donna came swooping toward their table with her usual smile. "Well hello," she beamed. "What can I get you to drink?"
"I'll have an iced tea," Tommy told her.
"And I'll just take a water," Oliver added.
"Coming right up!" she chirped before she swept away, almost as quickly as she'd appeared.
Tommy frowned at her retreating figure. "Wait, you forgot — " He turned to Laurel with a dismayed expression. "She forgot to take your orders."
"Oh, she already knows our drink orders," Laurel said dismissively.
Tommy blinked. "She does? Wow, so you guys really are regulars here."
"Well that and she just happens to be my mom," Felicity said.
This time it was Oliver who registered his surprise.
"That's your mother?" he asked, incredulity written all over his face.
Felicity felt her skin prickle at the implication clear in his voice. "Yes," she bit out. Her voice was bordering on hostile and she felt Laurel kick her underneath the table. "She's my mom. Laurel's stepmom. She knows everyone here practically by name."
"Oh, you two are stepsisters?" Tommy asked. "I didn't realize. I thought you were biologically related."
"Nope," Laurel shook her head. "My mom died when I was eight and my little sister Sara was five. A year later, Felicity and her mom moved to town and my dad fell head over heels in love with Donna. Two years after that, they got married."
"But we're practically biological sisters," Felicity smiled warmly. "We've been best friends ever since Mom and I moved here."
"What about this other sister you mentioned?" Tommy asked. "Sara?"
Laurel smiled. "She's the youngest of us. She's in the Army right now, stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado."
Felicity's stomach clenched inside of her at the mention of her younger step sister.
Thankfully, Donna chose that exact moment to return with everyone's drinks. Tommy got his iced tea and Oliver his water, while Laurel and Felicity both got their pink lemonades.
"So," Donna trilled, "have you gotten the chance to look at the menus or are you still trying to decide?"
"Oh," Tommy started, staring down at the menu that he had ignored ever since Laurel and Felicity walked in. "I'm still trying to decide."
She giggled. "If I may suggest, why don't you go for our famous lobster roll? It's hearty enough to fill you up, but it's light enough to not rule out anything you might have planned for the future, if you know what I mean."
Felicity's eyes widened behind her glasses. She watched as poor Laurel turned completely red in front of her.
"Or you could have the shrimp tacos," Felicity said quickly, hoping to diffuse the awkwardness. "They have the shrimp brought in fresh every morning and the chef puts something in the crema that makes you crave it. Which is what I'm going to have."
"Yes, me too," Laurel added. "With pineapple and mango salsa, please."
"Um, that sounds delicious," Tommy said, seemingly trying to hold in his laughter. "Why don't you put in for a third?"
"I'll take the eight-ounce sirloin, rare," Oliver said, his face completely impassive as he handed back the menu.
"Ah, a man who likes his meat rare is a man after my own heart," Donna giggled. "You got it, sugar."
She gathered up all the menus and left with a wink. Felicity felt like walking outside straight to the beach to bury her head in the sand and pretending like none of that had actually happened.
"Sorry about that," Laurel said, her face still bright red. "Our mom's kind of...colorful."
"That's one way to put it," Felicity sighed.
"Yeah," Tommy smiled. "But I think it's nice to have a mother figure, no matter how colorful. My own mom also passed away when I was young."
"Really?" Laurel's eyes softened as she turned to her date. "I'm so sorry."
Felicity grinned to herself, but cast her eyes away. She felt as if she were intruding on a very private, intimate moment, so she clenched her jaw and turned to the man sitting beside her.
"So, Oliver," she said in as friendly a voice as she could muster, "how are you enjoying Hertfordshire so far?"
"It's fine," he answered, not bothering to look at Felicity. "There isn't a lot to do, compared to Star City, but it's adequate."
Adequate. What a condescending word, she grimaced to herself. Adequate.
"Well I'm sure your summer reading has kept you occupied," Felicity muttered.
She felt his eyes turn to land on her, but she refused to meet them. If he was going to act all high and mighty, then she wasn't going to engage in any of it.
"I don't actually have any siblings," Felicity heard Tommy telling Laurel. "But Oliver has a little sister, Thea. She's almost my sister by proxy at this point."
"Oh, really?" Laurel asked.
"Yeah, she's in college right now," Tommy nodded. "Hey, Ollie, how is Thea? Is she enjoying college so far? Is she still as accomplished as ever?"
"She's doing very well," Oliver responded. Felicity finally looked up at him and...and did she detect just the slightest twinkle in his eye?
Impossible, she told herself. Oliver Queen wasn't capable of twinkles, because twinkles proved he was human, and Oliver Queen was most definitely not human.
And Felicity's denial of Oliver's humanity had nothing to do with just how ridiculously attractive she found him when there was a hint of a smile on his face.
"Thea is a fantastic piano player," Tommy continued. "She's also fluent in French and Italian, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is," Oliver nodded. "It comes from her vocal training."
"Oh, and she's trained in krav maga," Tommy added. "She took it up in high school as an outlet, and she's kept up with it. The other day she pinned me in two moves. Straight flipped me over her head."
"Wow," Laurel intoned with an impressed nod. "She really is accomplished."
"Yes, well it was important to our mother to be as well-rounded as possible," Oliver shrugged.
"That's incredible," Laurel smiled. "It's also really refreshing, since a lot of parents nowadays just plop their kids in front of computers and television screens and let monitors teach them things instead."
"Yes, our mother was very adamant that we didn't spend time in front of the television. Growing up, we only had one TV in the whole house, and it was in our living room. We were also allowed very limited screen time, from computers to cell phones until we got older. We hated it growing up, but she was right — we're better people for it."
"Yes, today's children are crippled by all the screens that surround them," Laurel nodded. But Felicity scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest.
Laurel grinned at her sister from across the table.
"Though I know Lissy disagrees with me," she smiled.
Oliver turned a curious gaze to Felicity. "Really? You don't think today's children rely too heavily on technology? Probably to their developmental detriment?"
She rolled her eyes. "I think people who don't let their children use smartphones and tablets at a young age are incredibly shortsighted. First of all, widespread smartphone and tablet use is still too recent to have done any proper, long-term studies on early childhood development. Second of all, why don't we want our children to be technologically proficient, considering that's where society's headed?"
"Because socializing online isn't the same as face-to-face interaction," Oliver answered, his eyebrows raised. "We're raising a generation of poorly socialized children. All they know how to do is swipe around on a touch screen. They're not learning real skills."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Queen, but the last time I checked, your family runs one of the biggest technology companies in the country," Felicity retorted. "And the reason you and your family have made your billions is because you were all smart enough to realize that touch screen technology was the wave of the future. It was important to hire engineers and programmers who know how it works and can make innovations to make it even more intuitive."
Oliver didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at her. Felicity took that as an invitation to keep going.
"Technological literacy is important because more of our lives are spent interacting with technology," Felicity said. "You might think it's making our children dumber or making us socially crippled, but the fact is that people have been saying that since the beginning of time. You don't think that people during the World War I were bemoaning short attention spans thanks to radio? You don't think people in the 1950s kept complaining about television turning kids' brains to mush? With every technological advance, there's always a group of people dragging their heels and fighting progress because they can't stand change."
Oliver looked surprised, but Felicity couldn't care less. She was far too heated at this point to pump the breaks on her rant.
"It's great that your sister can play the piano and knows krav maga and multiple languages," she continued. "But she probably had highly qualified public tutors and coaches to help her with all of that, didn't she?"
Oliver nodded slowly.
"Well thanks to the Internet and technology, people who can't afford those tutors and coaches can learn new languages on the Internet. They can even practice those languages by conversing with someone from another country without having to leave your house."
Felicity scowled right at him before giving her final point.
"So next time you should probably think before you open your mouth and talk about how technology is ruining society. As the heir to a huge technological fortune, it makes you look like an idiot."
Silence descended over the table, and Felicity reached for her glass of lemonade, taking a long sip. She pointedly ignored Oliver's gaze and sucked down her cold drink, hoping it would cool the heat in her cheeks.
"I'm sorry if something I said insulted you," Oliver finally said, breaking the silence.
He had no idea, Felicity thought viciously to herself. Ugh, this guy. He was such a pompous, self-important, short-sighted jackass.
She glanced across the table and Laurel was smiling apologetically at her.
Her sister owed her so big.