Confessions of Your Friendly Neighborhood Lifeguard

Chapter Eight

"Patrick, might I ask, where you are taking me?" I asked. Patrick glanced over from the driver's seat with a smirk and ignored my question. "Really, it's my right to be concerned. I haven't known you for that long, and I am for too willing to jump in a car with you."

"Well you did go to a loft with a random stranger after they destroyed your car," Patrick replied. "So the problem here is definitely you." I slapped Patrick lightly on the knee.

"While I find that very hurtful, I also find it unfortunately true," I laughed. "But really, where are we going?"

"I'm taking you the Bridge," Patrick replied and I looked at him quickly. "It's a restaurant. Not an actual bridge. Really, Rae, you get frightened too easily."

"Forgive me for being cautious."

"Anyways, it's happy hour from four to six and appetizers are half off!" Patrick explained happily. I glanced at my watch, it was 4:45. "So you understand the rush?"

We arrived the the Bridge, which was fairly filled with tourists, and appeared to have a long wait. Patrick, however, assured me that there was always a table available for the locals and we would have plenty of time to order every single appetizer before 6:00.

15 minutes later in front of my was the largest pile of appetizers I had ever encountered in my life and probably will never see again, until the next half price apps adventure, which I care not to repeat again. The point however, is not the food. It's the person I had the food with.

"So give me your life story. I want to know everything," Patrick said, shoving a mozeralla stick in his mouth.

"You don't want everything, trust me," I chuckled.

"No, I really do," Patrick explained. "You and I got off on the wrong foot, and I am entirely to blame for that."

"Yes, what's the story about that?" I asked, recalling his comparison of me to Josie.

"No, specific reason," Patrick shrugged. My agression, which I try so hard to keep bottled inside rushed up to me. My fists clenched, and I quickly lowered them below the table and started counting backwards in my head.

"Are you okay?" he said and I held up a finger to him as I finished counting. 

"Tell me the truth, Patrick, because I already know. I wish you would just say it so we can clear the air!" I demanded and Patrick looks at me confused. "I heard you last night. I hear you compare me to Josie. I know everyone think's she's a bitch. I just want to know what I did to make you believe I was a bitch? Before we even met!"

Patrick stared at me for a moments, his eyes blank, his mouth unmoving. My jaw quivered from anger. Patrick's jaw slowly opened, searching for words. I sat on the edge of my seat, wating for his reply. And when Patrick finally made a noise, it wasn't what I expected.

He burst out laughing. 

Which really only pissed me off more. So, I slid out of our booth and started storming off. I didn't get too far when Patrick's hand grabbed mine and started pulling me back to the both. He sat me down and then sat himself down. I crossed my arms and waited once more for his excuse.

"You don't remind me of Josie because I think you're a bitch," Patrick explained. "You have your moments, but then again, so do I." I smiled lightly.

"Why, then?"

"Yesterday, after you got hit. You said something about being peachy, feeling like a peach.... something along the lines of peach. Josie used to say shit like that all the time! She used the word peachy in every other sentence, I swear to God, that is why you reminded me of her just in that instance!"