three: don't insult his car
four: or his music
five: or the way he eats

"You drive a hearse?" She squeaks, and he laughs softly and nods. He loves his car. But she is truthfully scared.

"Yep. Pride and joy. It was my dad's and then he gave it to me."

She doesn't question any of this because when she looks at him, and then back at the car – she can see that it all molds together as one. Black clothes – black car. Skull and cross bones accessories – car that carries dead people. She processes it all as one and tries hard to keep her mouth shut and not make some sort of witty comment. She doesn't want him to think she's judging him. Because technically she isn't. She just likes to over think things.

He doesn't hold the door open for her, as she hopes he might. He just unlocks the thing and she climbs in afterwards. The inside gives her that scent that she's been wondering about. The time she thought that he might smell like lilacs. But that's all history now. Because his car smells like cheap cologne and little pine tree air fresheners. In fact, if you looked closely at his car, you could see hanging from the mirror was two little cardboard pine trees.

"Your car is um, it's um…" She shuts her mouth after a moment because he shoots her this look that says something like insult my car, and I'll freaking kill you. So she doesn't say a word.

"So, McDonalds, then." He says. He jams his keys into the ignition, and she watches as his sharpie coloured finger nails grip the key and turn it slowly. But when he glances over at her slightly, she averts her vision. She doesn't want to be caught staring at him again. "Can I play music?" he asks, and she smiles.

"Of course you can." She answers politely.

But she regrets her decision to allow him to play music when she realizes how loud it is. Pedestrians could hear it. It was loud, and obnoxious, and now she realizes why he wears such large headphones. It's to keep the sound away from everyone else. And perhaps it's for everyone else's benefit more than his. She tries to remain calm the car ride there. Not to make any sudden sounds or ask to turn the music down. She wondered how someone could listen to such 'tunes' without their ears bleeding.

How could she be so head over heels for a boy whose music clashed so hard with her own?

Oh, that's right. She found him totally gorgeous.

She tries not to watch, or even to listen as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel or sing a line now and again. She thinks that's kind of precious, the way his mouth opens and singing comes out. And he might not be the best vocalist you've ever heard but he could hit a note or two. Maybe even three if he tried hard enough. She wishes slightly that maybe she knew the song too so that she could sing along. So that he might think she was cute because she knew the words too.

But she doesn't know the words.

She hasn't been to McDonalds since she was little, because when she was seven or eight her parents watched that Supersize Me film and forbade her or her sister to go eat there ever again. It was a sad day in her house when she wasn't allowed to bring French fries back home after church.

They pull up to the low-class eating establishment, and he hops out of the car as if it's nothing. He doesn't open the door for her, he doesn't even seem to recognize her existence. But she is far too into him to overlook his rude attitude towards her at this moment. She jumps out as well, closing the door behind her and skips to catch up with him as he makes his way inside. Again, he fails to hold doors open for her, but she overlooks this as they go inside and wait in the short line.

They both order their own meals and pay separately. He gets a big-mac with extra cheese and no pickles, a fries and a large McFlurry. She gets a small fries and a small drink. She can't possibly let herself look like a pig while eating in front of him. The food arrives quickly, and they both pick up their trays and she stares around the room, looking for a place to sit. He points off somewhere, and she follows. The awkward not-so couple take their seats in a small booth in the corner of the fast food restaurant, and he gives a low growl, unwrapping his burger from its papery shell and dives into it, taking a large bite. She tries to stare wide-eyed at him while he envelopes himself in a burger. He is definitely not as graceful in this moment as she always made him out to be.

"So?" She squeaks, taking a medium sized nibble at a French fry. "The project?"

"Oh, yeah." He mumbles, wiping a bit of barbeque sauce off the corner of his mouth with his right hand. "So what Shakespeare play should we do for the video project?" He asks, shoving a few fries into his mouth. She decides not to watch him as he nearly makes a fool out of himself eating like this. She'd ought to save her good visions of him.

"How about…" She trails off for a moment, wondering if the words she's about to spew out might come off as a little too eager. But nevertheless, she flashes him a small smile and says: "How about Romeo and Juliet?"

He stops chewing for a moment, and his face twists up as he thinks about her offer. She has to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from giggling at how cute he looks right now. She stuffs a fry into her mouth and remains calm. "Okay." He answers, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Yeah, Romeo and Juliet works."

She tries to keep herself calm as he agrees with her. Because Romeo and Juliet means a kissing scene – and a kissing scene means that she will be able to know what his sweet lips taste like.

But hopefully his lips won't taste how they look right about now, covered in McDonalds and curled into an awkward glance.

"You're staring again."

"Sorry."