You win

Westerman - deal

One free night is what I got. I don't know if my dad was made aware of the flexibility my mom gave, not that I care. The music's booming loudly, my boys chatting up some girls by the bar, Alix daring me to walk over to her, fake eyelashes batting. Yet, I'm spending my one night of freedom sitting at a booth across from a brunette who looks like she'd rather be elsewhere.

Her delicate fingers are intertwined on the table, and gold jewellery accents her tanned skin. Long brown hair cascades over her shoulders and frames the scowl on her face.

"You hungry?" I ask, expecting her expression to soften.

"Do I look hungry?" She moves back in her seat, arms placed at her sides.

"Yeah?"

"Are you calling me skinny?" Her face tilts and her expression is a tad furrowed.

"No." I drag out my O and it almost comes out as a question

"No?" She asks, her face reading unimpressed.

"What I mean is, you're not stickly; you're more..." I eye her, moving back in my seat, trying to find the right words to describe the way her body curves in the right places without sounding like a dick.

"- Let's get off the topic of my body." She cuts me off, her cheeks faintly tinted.

"Agreed."

"I'm going to put in an order. Do you want anything?."

"Uh, a diet coke-"

"And? We've established you're not skinny." Surprisingly, that elicits a laugh, and she peeks at the menu momentarily.

"Terry's burger."

I nod in response before walking towards the kitchen in line behind two guys when Austin Tebow, one of our defensemen, stops me. He's the shit; just ask him. He can't keep his fingers out of his hair or shut up about his blue eyes, their gray.  Also known as not my cup of tea, and I doubt I'm his, so I've got to ask why he's stopping me of all people.

"What's up?" I question.

"Sofia, what's up with that?" He looks behind me, and I follow his gaze to her, seated in the booth, face slightly lit up by the light on her phone.

"What's it to you?" I ask, eyeing his demeanour. His eyes stay out, unable to tear them off of her. Unsurprisingly, he runs his hand through his tapered mullet, his expression unreadable.

"Nothing, whatever," he exhales, then walks away. Before I can ask what that's about, Terry hollers out to take my order.

"What can I get you?"

"Uh, ya, can I get a diet coke, two Terry's burgers, and a vanilla shake."

"More than one meal? something brewing over there, Stephan?" He gives me his knowing glare before turning away and heading off.

+++

It's hard to ignore the lingering looks and glares while sitting at this booth; the reasons are unlimited: Sofia earning a ton of glances from guys, me earning a bunch of confused ones, and also me earning that same look from Alix while she makes out with Tebow as if to light a fire in me, not that I care. I tear my eyes off the unamusing scene and look back at Sofia. I can tell she's uncomfortable. I know what it feels like to be watched, and she doesn't seem as immune to it as I've become.

She looks behind her to see where my eyes were landed. In response, she rolls her eyes with a sigh.

"You cause a scene wherever you go."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's good for what I need, but let's lay out some rules."

Before I can speak, Sofia whips out a napkin and a pen. "Firstly, we tell no one; that would be humiliating."

"Agreed."

"Second-" She pauses, looking over her shoulder again. Where Alix Russell is attached to Austin Tebow by the lips, her eyes still fixed on me.

"This is exclusive." She looks back at me with a stern look.

"Yeah, for sure," I say in response.

"I'm serious, Stephen; it's exclusive. Everyone's always connected, and I don't intend to look like the dumb girlfriend who's getting cheated on."

"I'm serious, too," I respond, watching her scribble on the napkin.

"You come to soccer meets and team events." I grasp the napkin, sliding it over to me and the pen.

"And you come to mine and the Bruts and Bella's."

"No," she states.

"No, what?"

"I'm not going to the Bruts and Bellas." Bruts and Bellas is the banquet that takes place around the beginning of the season. It's where the Bruts/football team talk to boosters, and the Bellas attend as our dates.

"My parents will be there. You're going." She grabs the napkin with a glare and swipes the pen.

"Then you're going to JAB with me."

"Absolutely not." The words almost fly out of my mouth.

JAB is the worst thing this school has to offer. It's freakishly calm and stoic for any bar. Their Slam Poetry Sundays speaks for itself. Tommy likes the setting sometimes, and considering he comes back with dudes from there, I intend to end up elsewhere.

"You're going." She throws my words back at me with a sweet smile.

"Fine," I sigh. We'll make a couple of public appearances. I'll walk you to your class, and maybe, if you're nice, I'll bring you a coffee and be done."

"I'm always nice." She looks at me innocently, her big brown eyes pointing at me and her manicured hand over her chest.

"Six months." That wipes the expression off her face; she nearly chokes and takes a sip of her drink in response.

"Three," she intercepts.

"Five, I need this to look serious; I'm not saying we have to be with each other the whole time.

"Four, final offer." She pulls out her hand, and I shake it in response.

"Pleasure doing business,"

"Ew, that makes it sound so dirty," Sofia responds with a wrinkled nose.

"Call it an agreement." Our hands meet while she speaks.

"Deal."