Chapter Nine

I followed Jake onto an open road that was dead as a mortuary. The sidewalks were uneven and lined with sparse confectionary stores, a goldsmith and a hair salon, with only one blue haired middle-aged woman sat perched on a stool getting her hair done.

There was a diner next door to it, pink and Cadillac looking with pointed signs and a curving roof. The name 'Sully's' flashed with the 'u' missing.

Jake opened the door for me. It had a square window and frill curtains in matching white and pink. The opening times were written besides huge puckered lips.

I let Jake walk ahead of me once we were inside. Everyone turned to look as we made our way to a table in the corner. It didn't keep onlookers from staring and whispering pretty audibly.

The booth had a table covered with a plastic coated cloth, blue and out of place among the dolly pink. Even the salt and pepper shakers were wearing cowboy hats. The menus were a pair of blue tassel cowboy boots.

"I told you." Jake cringed, looking at the menu then putting it down to look at me.

"I like it." I wasn't lying. It was quirky, full of loony characters and butterball town's folk.

There were a group of giggling girls at a table to our left, having some sort of food fight with a red haired boy named Jason. I knew from the amount of times it was screamed across the room. At the front, beside the bar, two boys kicked at the jukebox, another two were in headlock, and a waitress who looked to be still in elementary school ran out of the kitchen, hitting them both with a wet dish cloth.

"It's never dull that's for sure," Jake said, slipping out of his torn denim jacket.

"Do you come here often?"

"No," he said, too quickly. "I was desperate," He smirked. "As you know"

I twirled my hair and tried not to blush as I so often did these days.

A waitress with hair in a sky-scraping beehive came over to the table. Her pale blue uniform was too itty bitty, and pinching her not so modest parts above the neckline of her corset fitted waist. Her red buckle belt looked set to ping at any moment.

Jake didn't notice. He kept his eyes firmly on me, where I could always see them, taking in my every emotion that must've slipped over my face to make him smile like it was entertaining.

I ordered the saddleback special and a cream soda. Jake asked for the same, then handed her the menus. She chewed on her gum and asked if anything else was needed. A ploy, I think, to make Jake look at her. When he didn't, she walked away, clipping her kitten heels on the buffered floor and wriggling her behind as an added benefit for the many hoots and call over the gobbling sounds of hungry patrons.

Jake lowered his head to open his mouth and speak to me, but my attention had re-directed itself to the opening of the doorway and the svelte, but brooding presence that walked effortlessly toward the bar to speak intimately to one of the waitresses.

The middle aged, too old to be giggling so much out in the open waitress, shied away from conversing way up-close as she slapped his arm playfully, keeping her hands comfortably at a reaching position throughout the whole course of lip to ear discussion. Her cheeks flushed, making her sallow completion looked more youthful, but still drooped like full pockets.

She served a drink without charging a dime, laughing along to what was muttered with barely open lips. The chaotic table of girls called out his name as if he was the world's biggest celebrity to grace the streets of Boringville.

Of course it was Edward. Who else could be such a chauvinistic ass and get away with it?

He hadn't seen me, thankfully, but I couldn't control the zealous beating of my heart, racing ahead of my held breath. I looked down to find my palms were sweaty. My hands trembled by their own accord. I placed them under my thighs and finally remembered to bring my attention back to Jake. But he was peering over at the other table, at Edward in particular, never once caring if he was caught rudely staring.

Luckily, the waitress arrived with our food, slamming the greasy hot plates and cold drinks onto the table. "Enjoy," she spluttered, chewing on her gum and leaving to approach another calling table.

I poked a fork in my cherry tomato. I had no intention of eating it though, not just yet, not while Edward lingered like an off-putting smell.

"Do you know that guy?" Jake asked, eating his meal like it was his last.

"He lives at the Manor." There was no reason to hide it.

His eyes narrowed at me as he took a long gulp from his can of soda.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He almost choked.

"What?" I almost choked on a piece of spinach. "No. He's not."

"An ex?" He raised a brow, his eyes impatient.

"No." I laughed nervously.

"Then why the glint?" he asked with a detached tone.

"Glint?" I was afraid something might have slipped from my mouth without me knowing.

"In your eyes," he said, like I was a dumb. "When he appeared just now?"

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't. I opened my can of soda and took a couple of pious gulps to fill the silence.

"I didn't mean to pry," he said, returning to his meal. "It's your business who you're attracted to."

"I'm…" I cringed. "I'm not attracted to him." The word "attracted" seemed to cut at my tongue. "Besides, he's my great aunt's son. That makes us related."

He raised a brow again.

"But we're not related by blood. It's through marriage."

"Fine." He shrugged, brushing off my uneasy response. "I'm just telling you what I see, that's all. Real cousin or not." He glanced back at Edward again. "You don't seem to be his only admirer." He sounded way too happy about that.

Edward had everyone's attention, even the male diners had gathered around the table. He was in the middle of arm wrestling one of them, winning plain and easy, and taking the fifty dollars from a fuming guy's fist and stuffed it into his front jeans pocket.

"He's kind of an ass," I said, a little too madly. "I think the only admiration he has is for himself."

"You sound jilted."

"No. Just forewarned."

"His loss." He drank his soda and slammed down the hollow can.

"I know." I kicked myself for saying it out loud, twice more when I snuck another peek at Edward's table , only to see him grinning up at a girl with vibrant red bouncing curls, and a tank top with sexy jean shorts. The smile was confirmed as having a worse affect than his voice. It was charming, the kind that showed you he was enjoying your company and listening to your every word like he appreciated you just as much.

I wasn't sure if I was experiencing some crazy attraction or a spell holding me captive to the unattainable, and just when I thought I had it all figured out, he spotted me from the corner of his eye. His smile slowly faded, turning into a vacant stare, a fearful haunt of beautiful, but angry eyes. But something was different this time. They held a smidge of interest to watch me longer than necessary, just the way he did at the in the bathroom.

One of the blonde girls followed his gaze. I turned before I was caught smouldering like I had a pathetic high school crush.

"We can go now if you like?" Jake had all but finished his meal. Mine lay mostly untouched.

"If you're ready."

"You've hardly touched your food." He nodded at my full plate.

"I've lost my appetite. I'll have it to go."

He asked a waitress to doggy bag my meal like an infant, then stood to put on his jacket.

I took the six dollars from my purse that I owed and placed it on the table, refusing to let him pay for me. He didn't put up much of a fight.

When the waitress returned with my food, he sounded in just as big of a hurry to leave —if that was possible. He handed me the bag. He didn't seem annoyed, just unable to keep still.

I stood and placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry Jake. I'm just not feeling myself right now. I must've caught something." My excuse was even pathetic.

He smiled, the kind that was full of pity. "As long as it doesn't catch you first, I think you've a chance," he added, losing the apish smile.