𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗂𝖺𝗇𝗈 | 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗇

Chapter Three

He looked confused, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Can I just wait here?" He peered up to her with blue eyes.

And while she wondered why he would rather wait in a crowded diner for two hours, she really didn't have the time to question it. Smiling, she reached behind her to grab a piece of peach pie and placed it in front of him.

"Sounds fine to me." She patted his jean covered arm with her hand. "If you need anything just yell for Jasper." She pointed through the open gap in the wall that lead to the kitchen.

Michael nodded, watching her as she poured coffee for the rude man. He was grumbling, and while Ana simply smiled at him, Michael was irritated at the man's unkindly actions. He looked down to his pie, and then to the the arm she had touched. It had felt good, the physical contact. It made him feel...warm inside. A feeling he didn't really know how to process.

He had wanted to see her sooner, but he had a difficult time getting away from Ms. Mead. She was starting to crack down on him, frustrated that he was having such a hard time finding his path. He knew it wasn't a good idea to be hanging around Ana, but he also knew he didn't want to stop seeing her. He didn't know her hardly at all, but he couldn't help the way he felt. Simply, the girl interested him. He wanted to know her more.

So, for the remainder of Ana's workload, she busied herself by taking order after order. She would catch herself on occasion peeking at Michael. He was seventeen, grown. He could take care of himself. But his innocence told her otherwise. Sometimes the customers could get rough, and she just wanted to look out for him. She was cringing at the way she had touched his arm. She felt like she had been too straightforward, like she was, in fact, "acting like a whore". At least, that's the way her mother had put it.

But the touch had made her feel giddy, like a silly schoolgirl. She felt herself blush as she remembered it, hiding the smirk behind her lips as she hurriedly wrote down orders. She felt his eyes on her every once in a while, and it always made her straighten herself, not wanting to seem clumsy in front of him.

And when two o'clock finally came, Ana signaled her finger towards him as she ran into the back, grabbing her bag and heading into the employee bathroom. She felt ridiculous as she stood in the mirror criticizing her features. She changed into a pair of dark jeans, wearing a soft white sweater and a pair of old converse. She sniffed under arm, thanking the heavens she didn't smell. But for good measure, she took the bottle of febreze that sat on top of the toilet and lightly sprayed herself.

She exited the break room, eyes gleaming as they settled on Michael. "Hey, you ready?" She asked, standing beside his seat.

He stood up abruptly, towering over her. His eyes were slightly bugged out of the sockets as he took in her appearance. He was staring intently at her, making Ana shift her weight nervously. "Yeah." He nodded, smiling.

Ana nodded back.

Exiting the restaurant, the two began making their way down Palm Street. "So...what do you wanna do?" Ana asked nervously.

Michael looked at her. "I don't know. I've never done this before."

The girl narrowed her eyes as she watched the people go by them. "You mean you've never hung out with anyone before?"

Michael looked down embarrassed. "No. I've never...I've never had a friend before."

Ana looked up to him that time, feeling sorry for the boy. She didn't pity him though, or assure him with kind words, if anything, she related to him. She understood it, not being able to live life with friends.