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Chapter Four: Fred Jenkins

"We missed you at practice, Katie," Zack said, taking a swig of cola. It was a Saturday evening, the day after the incident. "You should have seen Lucas at the drums. He was getting down—and I mean not just on the drums." Zack nudged the boy mentioned beside.

Lucas smirked triumphantly in Katie's direction. "It was nothing."

"Man, it was too," Zack insisted. "It was pure—genius. After doing this slam-down awesome solo, he hit it off with this insanely hot girl!"

"Sorry I missed it," Katie told him sincerely. "But I was painting all morning, and then I had to go to work. I have a job to keep." She leaned back on the seat and sighed. Another Saturday night at Hamburger Heaven. They were definitely in a rut.

"What were you painting," Summer asked, sounding vaguely interested. She swiped a fry from Zack's plate.

"Well, I—," Katie began.

"Hey!" Zack shouted. "That's mine."

"Come and get it," Summer teased, placing the tip of the French fry between her lips, letting it dangle.

Zack bit the end of the fry and kept nibbling until his lips reached Summer's. "I don't know which I like better, French fries or Summer's kisses."

"You should know which…" Summer joked, playfully hitting him over the head.

"It's you, babe, always you," Zack vowed, leaning over and giving her a kiss.

"Hey, get a room you two," Billy groused.

"As I was saying," Katie continued in a stern voice, "I painted a picture of the Notre-Dame. The one with all the gargoyle statues and steeples."

The others looked at her blankly.

"Forget it," she sighed. "It was very intricate, with the play on light and dark. I am so glad I had the new nozzle to work with."

"So you saved enough up for it?" Marta asked.

Katie shook her head. "Not exactly."

"You lifted it?" Marta asked incredulously.

"No!" Katie insisted. "I wouldn't do that. Actually, I couldn't afford the nozzle and the airbrush, but some rich kid offered to pay for me."

Up until that moment, Lucas had been busy looking out the window and eyeing a raven-haired girl who was straddling the back of her boyfriend's Harley. But now his attention was focused on Katie.

"What rich kid?" he asked her.

"I don't know. He didn't exactly give me his name."

"What'd he want in return—for this—favor?" Lucas demanded.

"Nothing," Katie told him. "That was what's so weird about the whole exchange."

"Oh come on, they don't do stuff like this for charity," Lucas insisted.

"This one did."

"I don't believe you," Lucas said. He looked at her accusingly.

"Well not all guys are like you Lucas," Katie told him.

"They just wish they were," Billy joked. He gave Lucas a congratulatory pat on the back, and pointed towards the raven-haired girl's seat. Now she was obviously eyeing Lucas.

"My man!" Zack said. But Lucas had lost interest in the girl. He was focused on Katie. "What were you doing, hanging with that guy?" he demanded.

"What?" Katie answered. She was insulted. "Nothing. I needed an airbrush, he felt like being generous. It's nothing. And besides, I'm not ever going to see him again."

"Was he cute?" Marta asked.

Katie shrugged. "He looked like all the rest of them. They seem to be clones of each other. Like the Nazi Youth."

"Let me guess," Lucas snapped. "He was about six feet tall with straight blond hair."

"How'd you know that?" Katie asked, surprised.

"He's standing right out there," Lucas replied, pointing his drumstick to the edge of the parking lot.

Katie whipped around quickly. Sure enough, there he was, standing next to his silver Beetle. "I never though he'd actually…" she murmured under her breath.

"The guts to what?" Lucas demanded.

"He said he wanted to take me out to eat," Katie explained, incredulous. "I told him to meet me here."

"Well, here he is," Lucas said, sounding very much like a jealous boyfriend. "Now get rid of him."

The proprietary tone in Lucas's voice really pissed Katie off. He'd no right to tell her what to do. She didn't belong to him—or to anyone else. She certainly wasn't about to listen to Lucas just because he ordered her to.

"Watch it," Lucas hissed at her.

"Watch this," Katie told him as she strutted out of the restaurant smiling triumphantly.

"You said eight right?" Freddy said. Katie took his arm in hers, making sure they were in plain view of the others. He seemed surprised at her sudden show of affection, but said nothing.

"Yes," Katie murmured.

"Sorry I'm a little late. I didn't—"

"Let me guess. You don't know this side of Omaha really well," Katie interrupted him.

"Actually, I was going to say that I ran out of gas and I had to drive around till I found an open station," he replied.

"Oh."

Freddy smiled slightly, pleased that he'd thrown her off guard. "Are you hungry?" he asked her.

Katie nodded. "I'm always hungry. They make the best burgers here."

"Now that's what I like to hear," Freddy laughed. "Most of the girls I know eat nothing but salad with lemon wedges when they're out, or are on a diet."

"I don't diet," Katie assured him.

Freddy looked at her appreciatively. "You don't need to."

"I have a huge appetite, with a fast metabolism rate."

"Well then, let's go in," Freddy said. "I want to try one of those delicious burgers you recommended."

Katie plopped down in one of the booths near the door. She laughed as she watched the expression on Freddy's face as he looked at the seat on his side of the table. The plastic was torn and a few springs were popping through. Still, Katie has to give him some credit for sitting down without any complaint.

She wasn't nearly as pleased with the behavior of her friends, however. They raced over and grabbed the booth right beside. Lucas positioned himself in the seat that faced Katie. She made a point of looking directly at Freddy and avoiding the accusing look of Lucas's glare.

"So, what will you have?" the waitress asked as she walked over to the table, pad in hand.

"Do you have any menus?" Freddy asked her politely.

The waitress heaved a heavy sigh. "Where do you thing you are?" she asked him, pointing to a blackboard over the counter. "It's all up there."

"I'll have a cheeseburger and a Sprite," Katie told the waitress.

"I'll have the same," Freddy said.

As the waitress walked away chuckling, they fell into silence, each a little uncomfortable with the situation. Just then, Zack peeked over the side of his booth. "You got any money, Katie?" he called over to her. "We're trying to get enough to get a basket of cheese fries."

"Maybe her date has a buck or two," Lucas suggested with a snide air. "He looks as if his wallet's full."

"Actually, I…" Freddy started to reach into his pocket, but Katie reached across the table and rested her arm on his arm.

"Don't bother," she said. "I got it." She reached into her front pocket and pulled out a wrinkled dollar bill. "You owe me," she told Zack. He just shot her a playful grin back.

"Did you hear what they're going to do to the theatre by the mill?" Katie overheard Lucas ask the others. "The one Eric's saving up for? Apparently, they don't want to give him permission to buy it for a proper concert hall. They said it's something or the other of crap."

"That's what they say. But you know it's all about that asshole Jack Jones," Zack added. "He doesn't want a concert hall next to his crappy mill. Heck, he doesn't want a concert hall anywhere! And those people on the council are all on his payroll. They will do whatever he says."

"I don't know that Old Man Jones's problem is," Summer said, "Our music isn't exactly bothering them."

"You know hot rich people are," Lucas said, emphasizing the words and speaking louder for Katie's sake. "They want to control everything. And if they can't control it, they get rid of it, once and for all. I guess they'd all be happy if we dropped dead."

"Old Man Jones is almost dead," Billy mused. "Wouldn't it be funny if they buried him in the empty theatre and we built the concert hall over him. He'd be turning over in his grave." He collapsed in a fit of laughter at the thought of it. Soon all of them were laughing.

Katie rolled her eyes. Normally, she would be laughing along as well, making fun of the rich kids with the others. But for some reason, tonight she was slightly embarrassed by their behavior.

"You know, I don't even know your name," she said, trying to lighten the mood at the table. "I'm Katie Brown."

"And I'm…" Freddy stopped for a moment. Katie saw him squirming around in his seat. Lucas and her friends must really be making him uncomfortable. "I'm Fred Jenkins."

Katie was relieved from more conversation making, when the waitress arrived with their burgers.

"Two cheeseburgers," the waitress said, placing the giant, sloppy burgers in front of them. She looked at Freddy and laughed. "I hope it's just the way you like it."

"I'm sure it'll be great," Freddy replied. He placed a napkin on his lap and reached for his knife and fork. But he stopped as he saw Katie pick up her cheeseburger and take a huge bite.

"Oh god, this is so good," Katie said as tomato sauce slowly dripped down her chin. Freddy picked up his napkin and reached across the table, gently wiping the sauce from her face. The act, so simple, yet so intimate, took her by complete surprise. "Thanks," she murmured.

Freddy smiled at her as he took a bite of his own burger. "Whoops," he said, laughing as a big stream of ketchup slipped off the bun and onto the table. "This is tough to eat," he said.

"It takes practice," Katie chuckled.

"I guess," Freddy agreed. He picked up the burger again, but this time his watch slipped of his wrist and landed with a clank in the puddle of tomato sauce he'd just dropped. Katie shook her head in amusement. Freddy picked up the watch and wiped the watch fiddling with the watch.

"Darn clasp," Freddy said irritated. He placed the watch in his pocket and faced Katie. "so tell me about your painting. What kind of stuff do you do? Is it some sort of abstract airbrushing? Or is it like pop art?"

Katie looked at him, surprised. No one in Omaha ever seemed particularly interested in her artwork except her Aunt Dido. "Well, I do most of my painting with an airbrush," she said slowly, trying to come up with the words to describe the paintings she's been working on most recently. "It's not really abstract. I love playing with the light and dark, creating the mood of the painting. I guess it has some impressionism in it too, because sometimes I paint them the way I feel them."

"So you're a modern-day Monet," Freddy mused.

Katie was impressed. None of her friends even knew what impressionism was—much less naming one.

"Monet was apparently eccentric in his time, like you," Freddy suggested playfully.

"How do you know so much about art?"

Freddy took a huge sip of his Sprite. "I spent a whole summer a the Musee D'Orsay when I was in Paris."

"So you want to be an artist?" she asked him finally.

"Me? No way," Freddy exclaimed. "I'm more of a fanatic for music."

"The world needs more of those." Katie smiled shyly. "You know, I never really thanked you for the airbrush."

"You did," Freddy assured her. "You agreed to join me for dinner at this lovely restaurant." He glanced over rot the griddle.

"I guess this isn't exactly what you're used to, but—" Katie began.

"You never expected me to show up, did you?" Freddy interrupted her. He looked her straight in the eye, watching for her reaction.

"Sure I did," Katie replied. She looked mildly guilty. She was a terrible liar. "I guess not."

"It's okay. I came on pretty strong," he admitted. "You were right to try and get rid of me. But as you can see, it didn't work. I'm here."

She took one last loud slurp from her glass, sipping up the last drop of her Sprite.

"You two finished?" the waitress mumbled as she came over to the table and reached for their empty food plates.

"Do you want anything else?" Freddy asked Katie.

She shook her head. "I'm full."

"I guess we'll have to check, please," Freddy told the waitress.

She nodded and pulled the pencil from behind her ear. "I'm just warning you. We don't take credit cards."

"That's okay," Freddy assured her. "I've got cash."

"I'll bet you do," the waitress murmured as she handed him the bill for the meal. "That'll be thirteen-fifty."

Freddy pulled a twenty from his waller and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

Katie shook her head and frowned. She's almost started to like this guy, until he started to flash his wealth around.

"What's the matter?" Freddy asked, noticing the sudden change of expression on her face.

"Nothing," Katie muttered.

"No, something's bothering you. What'd I do?"

"Do you think throwing your money around makes you better than us?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" Freddy asked her genuinely confused. "I gave her a good tip, she worked hard."

"How would you know?"

Freddy sighed. "I know because I worked as a waiter last summer at a restaurant. It's tough."

Katie snorted. "Sure."

"I was," he insisted. "I really wanted a motorcycle. My parents refused to let me get one. So I went out and earned the money for it."

Katie wasn't sure which shocked her more—fact that he'd worked or that he rode a motorcycle. Neither fit her idea of a rich kid. "You have a motorcycle?"

Freddy nodded. "A real sweet Honda."

"So how come you came here in your car?"

"I didn't want you to get the wrong impression," Freddy joked. "I'm not some tough biker guy."

Katie looked at his clean, neat jeans and his other designer-vintage garments. "No kidding," she teased.

Freddy laughed with her—a rich, genuine chuckle, free of any of the anger or hostility her friends often had lurking behind their laughter. She liked the sound of it.

She stared across the table into the hazel-brown eyes of this perfect stranger with whom she'd obviously fallen for. She and Freddy were from different worlds, and yet here they were, having a great conversation, laughing, eating on a date. Katie suddenly realized she'd never been on a real date before.

Katie sensed that she wasn't the only one that had fallen hard. He felt it too. She knew that for sure, when suddenly, without warning, he leaned across the table and kissed Katie gently on the lips. Then he leaped backward in his seat, as though even he was surprised by what he had done.

"What—" Katie stammered.

"I'm sorry," Freddy apologized. "I didn't mean to—it just sort of seemed like—wow. Hey Katie, I—"

"It's okay," Katie told him softly. "I liked it."

Freddy seemed surprised. "You did?"

Katie nodded. "I like you too." And to show him just how much, she leaned across the table and returned the kiss.