E I G H T

I threw open the door to the cafe and stepped onto gray marble titled floor. I scanned the room for Max, and found him sitting in a corner of the higher wood-floored area. He saw me, waved, and flashed a stupid grin. I scowled, but headed over to him anyway. Best just to get this over with, I thought grimly.

I remained standing once I reached the table – for two, I noticed. Crap. I'd been hoping for company.- and said "Look. I hate you. If you would just hate me, that would make my whole life easier."

Sadly, instead of being all mopey or yelling or something, he just looked up at me and smiled. "Why do you hate me?"

I gave him the your-not-funny glare, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Seriously."

"Well, your full of yourself, annoying, always in my business-"

"Your business is my business."

"No it isn't."

"Whatever. Continue." He crossed his arms and propped his legs up on the table.

"Nosy-"

"You already said I was in your business. That's the same thing."

"No, it's not. Now, would you like me to answer your question or not?"

"Answer, please."

"And you interrupt me," I said. "Oh, and you stalk me."

"I don't stalk you," he said. "I merely followed you around everywhere you went. Once."

"Your right! You only follow me around twenty-four-seven! That is so not stalking!" I said sarcastically.

Max grumbled something. It sounded like "Its for your own good."

"Wha?" I asked, confused.

"Nothin'."

I sat down. "So why am I here, again?"

He retracted his legs and sat up straight. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright. Talk."

"I'm not going away, and I'm not going to stop trying to be your friend."

"Well, your out of luck, 'cause I don't like you."

"You made that clear. The point is, we need to get along."

"Not gonna happen."

"So, what do you like to do?"

"Listen to music."

"I like to read."

"So do I," I said slowly. I had something in common with Him. Crud. I would have lied, but I can't lie. My tongue swells up, and my mouth just sits there, useless and gaping, while I studder out incomprehensible words.

"Great. We can start there."

"Couldn't we start at music?"

"Sure, I guess. What kind of music do you like?"

"Rock."

"You have a band?"

"Why do you get to ask the questions?"

"'Cause I'm special. Do you have a band?"

Oh, he's special all right... "Yeah. Didn't somebody already tell you about it?"

"Nope."

Weird... Normally the band is all Lyn talks about. "Huh."

"Who's in it?"

"I play bass, Jazz does drums, Lyn's on keyboard, Is sings and plays electric guitar."

"Got a name?"

"Nope."

"Hmm... You want coffee?"

"Sure."

He stood to go get us some. "What do you want?"

"Cinnamon roll and a Cafe Mocha."

He was back a few minutes later with our drinks in a tray. he set it down and then set down two white bags. I looked in them for my cinnamon roll and found it on the first try.

"Thanks," I told Max before tearing the food apart and stuffing little pieces in my mouth. I picked up my mocha and sipped it.

"No problem."