SHORT CIRCUIT. [STEVE HARRINGTON]

CHAPTER THREE.

CHAPTER THREE.
007.

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THE RESTAURANT THAT Steve had chosen was low-lit and smelled faintly of stale alcohol. Lee was surprised to find that it was relatively empty, with the exception of a couple of tables filled with three or four people. Steve greeted the man in the kitchen with a quick smile, motioning for Lee to come along as he sat himself in a booth.

He threw his backpack to the side and unzipped the middle pocket to retrieve the notepad he had spoken of earlier. Lee flipped through the pages after he had set it down on the table, lips quirking into a smile as her eyes scanned the small doodles scribbled into the margins of the last pages. Steve rolled a pen toward her and folded his hands together. "You're sure you can do this?"

Lee looked at him blankly before gripping the pen and etching her answer in between the lines of the paper. I'm pretty sure.

Her writing was messy, scribbled and slightly slanted. It was what Steve would have expected from someone much younger, but he didn't mind. It was more efficent than the two word answers. Steve nodded, disreguarding the slightly sarcastic tone that came from her words.

Before he could ask something, the man who Steve had greeted had approached the table, a wide grin on his face. "Was your game canceled or something? You're never here on Fridays!" His tone was jovial and warm, something that immediately made Steve smile as he stood up and shook the man's hand.

"No, just practice today, Mister Jones. I had someone who was hungry and had never been here before," he replied, glancing over at Lee. Technically, none of what he said was a lie.

Mr. Jones, looked toward Lee with raised brows. "And who's your friend?"

Lee, obviously very uncomfortable with the situation, forced a tight-lipped smile on her face. "Lee," she answered, hoping that he wouldn't expect her to continue talking. She couldn't.

Steve grimaced at her rather awkward approach, laughing as he tried to draw the attention to himself. "She's catching a cold," he lied with the best look of false sympathy he could muster up. "Throat's sore. Could be strep."

Mr. Jones frowned, looking at Lee apologetically. "We are coming up on flu season. You know how that spreads through a small town." He shook his head, turning to Steve. "Anyway, I won't keep you two any longer. You want the usual, Harrington?"

He nodded gratefully, throwing his thumb in the direction of Lee. "She'll have the same," he said. "I told her she had to try it."

"You got it kid," Mr. Jones said, sending one last smile to Lee who reciprocated the action, then looked down at the notepad to write something. Mr. Jones caught Steve's eye, glancing between him and Lee, sending a wink in his direction. Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes at the man, plopping down in his seat once more.