Finally, we got our food and were able to head back to our table. Like James had said, nobody had even bothered to touch our coats. If anyone had even tried to take mine, it would've been ugly.

I had ordered a turkey sandwich with a cup of hot cocoa, while James had a meatball sub with cappuccino. He, being a gentleman again, paid for everything, no mattered how hard I protested.

So, James and I sat down with our sandwiches and drinks at the table by the window and made ourselves comfortable.

"How long's your lunch break?" I asked him as I unwrapped my sandwich from its tissue paper wrapping.

"Forty-five minutes." He glanced at his silver watch. "So yeah, I got plenty of time."

"That's good." We paused as we both chewed on the food, but as soon as I got done I asked, "What's up with you and Max?"

"Max? That girl at the club last night?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh geez, that's a whole lot of crap right there," he groaned, not wanting to tell me.

"You guys weren't like boyfriend/girlfriend-were you?"

"No, no, not at all. But you see," he sighed and took a drink of his cappuccino, causing a foamy mustache to form. Wiping it away, James continued, "We met a long time ago in college. She had signed up for some summer course, and I was there, working on my degree in architecture.

"Anyhow, one of my guy buddies had a big party, and she got invited. I don't know how, but she did. It was a big frat party, y'know? Just party, party, party. Well, things became a little out of control."

"Like how 'out of control'?" I asked.

"A couple people died from drug overdose. There was some nasty stuff going around. I think it was LSD, but don't quote me to that. She was as drunk as could be-"

"Yeah, I've noticed she seems to have a little problem with alcohol."

"In college, it was the crowd she was hanging out with. Her boyfriend, at the time, was an absolute jerk. But, the point is, he was one of the people to die from overdosing. That's why I didn't want to bring it back up to her last night. She already looked partially drunk and making her remember that party would just turn things into pretty nasty. Besides, we really only bumped into each other and that was it."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, remembering the people who had died.

"Why? I didn't know any of those people. Heck, I only knew about ten people out of the fifty or more that were there that night. Yeah, I sorry that they died, but don't expect me to wallow in misery over something that could've been prevented," he strongly replied.

"Strongly against drugs-huh?"

"Let's put it this way: my dad was an alcoholic, finally switched over to being sober; when I was little, my mom used to wallow in her self-misery over the loss of my real dad by marijuana; and I used to smoke. So, let's just say that I've had my experience with drugs, and nothing good ever comes from it."

"You?" I echoed, surprised that stately James would ever try such a thing like smoking.

"Yeah. Not something I like to admit, but I did. Bunch of peer pressure in high school. Y'know the good old, 'hey man, wanna go get a pack tonight?'. I've managed to stay away from it now for…" James shrugged, not remembering how long. "I don't know, four, five years at the least. But, unfortunately, whenever I really start to freak, I feel like I need them. It's awful."

"Good job for staying away."

"Thanks," he replied, wiping away some meatball sauce from the corner of his mouth. "So how's your dad?"

"My dad? Well, he's with some friends now, fortunately. Tried the whole breakfast buffet in a fancy restaurant with him…"

"Food fight between you guys?"

"Almost. But, seriously, I just don't understand him."

"Sometimes Alanza, we're not supposed to understand."