"Come on Heat," she said grabbing his hand, pulling him down the
street.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They decided to eat at a Mexican restaurant, but the bad thing was that they could hardly speak in English, so Strike had to translate since his background was spanish.
They took a seat at a table.
A waitor came over to the table. "Buonas noches," she greeted. (good evening)
Strike nodded.
"Qué puede yo conseguirle," she questioned. (what can I get you)
Strike looked to Frida. "What do you want."
"Chicken salad," she answered.
Strike looked over to the waitor, "Ensalada de pollo, y un taco," he told her. (chicken salad and a taco.
"Sí sir," she said bowing. She turned to Heat, "Y usted sir," she questioned.
"Excuse me miss," he questioned raising an eyebrow.
"She said what do you want," he said aggravated at Heat. Heat answered,"Just some white rice."
"El perdedor desea un poco de arroz blanco," Strike said with a laugh. (The loser wants some white rice)
"Usted no debe decir eso sobre sus amigos," she said walking off. (You should not have said that about your friends)
Heat looked around the restaurant. It was full of alot of people. Everyone seemed to speak spanish.
Suddenly a girl came over to their table. "Mi amigo piensa su lindo," she said in a quiet voice.
Heat looked to Strike.
"She said her friend thinks your cute," he said as if Heat was a slow person.
"Gracias," he said smiling. "Whos your friend," he questioned.
"El desea saber whos su amigo," Strike said to the girl. "You need to learn spanish, seriously," he said to Heat.
"Ella," she said pointing to a girl a few tables down.
Heat looked, and waved to the girl. The girl appeared to be his age...probably just shy.
The girl left their table, and there meals came. They began to eat.
Frida finished quickly, and took out her sketchpad, and began to sketch. She decided to draw Strike, and Heat eatting.
"Let me see your sketchpad," Strike commanded.
She nodded, and passed him her book.
He began to scan through the book. There were many sketches: alot were scenery, people dancing, people doing normal things, and a certain one of herself.
Strike looked at Frida. "Why would she draw herself on the night she fell," he thought to himself. He looked at her, and saw that she had a small strand of her hair, and was beginning to braid it.
He turned the page and saw Heat, and him eating.
"I should call you a stalker," he said to Frida.
She looked at him, and chuckled.
He closed the sketchpad, and handed it back to her. She put it back into her backpack.
"Señoras y caballeros," a guy said with a microphone getting everyones attention. He was standing on a mini stage. "La hospitalidad de Tonights estará por un commedian. Ponga sus manos juntas para Rough Draft," he said handing a guy with big black sunglasses the microphone.
"What he say," Frida questioned Strike as she sat more close to him.
"He said that tonights entertainment will be a comedian named Rough Draft," he told her, and Heat.
They watched the show with Strike translating. It was quite funny. After a while they left to go to the club. They arrived at the club seven- minutes later.
The club was packed full of people dancing. To light up the rooms they had glow stick lights all around, and people waved them in the air while dancing.
But before they could get into the club they had to pass security. Simply Frida flashed them the tickets, and they were allowed in. Well.....not exactly. They didn't at first let Strike in; they though he might try, and kill someone. After must reasoning by Frida they allowed him in.
Inside they seated, as man came upon a big stage. Most of the people gathered around the stage, and alot seated themselves in small tables.
There were some many people in the club.
"Ladies and gentleman we have a wonderful show for you tonight. Tonights competition will be for a 10,000 dollar prize." The crowd arupted with cheer. "Put your hands together for our first two dancers," he said clapping his hands, and walking off stage, as two dancers came out. They were two boys about the same age.
They began to dance. They were quite matched. But in the end one had to win, and the taller of the two won.
Next there were two girls. They were off to a good start until suddenly one of the girls went to do the windmill, and fell infront of everyone.
The whole crowd fell into bits of laughter, and the girl got up again, tried to began again but kept messing up. Before her round was over she ran off stage.
Frida observed the dancers, and thought to herself, 'Thats me alright, the one that fails.' She looked down at the table.
"O..kay that was an akward one, folks," the announcer guy said coming back on stage. "In just a few moments we will have more competitions," he said wallking off the stage getting an applause.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They decided to eat at a Mexican restaurant, but the bad thing was that they could hardly speak in English, so Strike had to translate since his background was spanish.
They took a seat at a table.
A waitor came over to the table. "Buonas noches," she greeted. (good evening)
Strike nodded.
"Qué puede yo conseguirle," she questioned. (what can I get you)
Strike looked to Frida. "What do you want."
"Chicken salad," she answered.
Strike looked over to the waitor, "Ensalada de pollo, y un taco," he told her. (chicken salad and a taco.
"Sí sir," she said bowing. She turned to Heat, "Y usted sir," she questioned.
"Excuse me miss," he questioned raising an eyebrow.
"She said what do you want," he said aggravated at Heat. Heat answered,"Just some white rice."
"El perdedor desea un poco de arroz blanco," Strike said with a laugh. (The loser wants some white rice)
"Usted no debe decir eso sobre sus amigos," she said walking off. (You should not have said that about your friends)
Heat looked around the restaurant. It was full of alot of people. Everyone seemed to speak spanish.
Suddenly a girl came over to their table. "Mi amigo piensa su lindo," she said in a quiet voice.
Heat looked to Strike.
"She said her friend thinks your cute," he said as if Heat was a slow person.
"Gracias," he said smiling. "Whos your friend," he questioned.
"El desea saber whos su amigo," Strike said to the girl. "You need to learn spanish, seriously," he said to Heat.
"Ella," she said pointing to a girl a few tables down.
Heat looked, and waved to the girl. The girl appeared to be his age...probably just shy.
The girl left their table, and there meals came. They began to eat.
Frida finished quickly, and took out her sketchpad, and began to sketch. She decided to draw Strike, and Heat eatting.
"Let me see your sketchpad," Strike commanded.
She nodded, and passed him her book.
He began to scan through the book. There were many sketches: alot were scenery, people dancing, people doing normal things, and a certain one of herself.
Strike looked at Frida. "Why would she draw herself on the night she fell," he thought to himself. He looked at her, and saw that she had a small strand of her hair, and was beginning to braid it.
He turned the page and saw Heat, and him eating.
"I should call you a stalker," he said to Frida.
She looked at him, and chuckled.
He closed the sketchpad, and handed it back to her. She put it back into her backpack.
"Señoras y caballeros," a guy said with a microphone getting everyones attention. He was standing on a mini stage. "La hospitalidad de Tonights estará por un commedian. Ponga sus manos juntas para Rough Draft," he said handing a guy with big black sunglasses the microphone.
"What he say," Frida questioned Strike as she sat more close to him.
"He said that tonights entertainment will be a comedian named Rough Draft," he told her, and Heat.
They watched the show with Strike translating. It was quite funny. After a while they left to go to the club. They arrived at the club seven- minutes later.
The club was packed full of people dancing. To light up the rooms they had glow stick lights all around, and people waved them in the air while dancing.
But before they could get into the club they had to pass security. Simply Frida flashed them the tickets, and they were allowed in. Well.....not exactly. They didn't at first let Strike in; they though he might try, and kill someone. After must reasoning by Frida they allowed him in.
Inside they seated, as man came upon a big stage. Most of the people gathered around the stage, and alot seated themselves in small tables.
There were some many people in the club.
"Ladies and gentleman we have a wonderful show for you tonight. Tonights competition will be for a 10,000 dollar prize." The crowd arupted with cheer. "Put your hands together for our first two dancers," he said clapping his hands, and walking off stage, as two dancers came out. They were two boys about the same age.
They began to dance. They were quite matched. But in the end one had to win, and the taller of the two won.
Next there were two girls. They were off to a good start until suddenly one of the girls went to do the windmill, and fell infront of everyone.
The whole crowd fell into bits of laughter, and the girl got up again, tried to began again but kept messing up. Before her round was over she ran off stage.
Frida observed the dancers, and thought to herself, 'Thats me alright, the one that fails.' She looked down at the table.
"O..kay that was an akward one, folks," the announcer guy said coming back on stage. "In just a few moments we will have more competitions," he said wallking off the stage getting an applause.