I Painted A Picture (Jalex)

Like A Bad Movie I'll Drop A Line

Come Friday, and I was listening to "First Date" on repeat and totally freaking out.

What should I wear? Is this outfit suitable? Jack said to "dress nice". That could mean anything. Where's Jack planning on taking me? What if he's planning on sacrificing me to the elder gods?

In the end, I just settled for a white button-down and some black pants. Something I wouldn't mind being sacrificed to the elder gods in. I sat on my couch and waited for Jack to arrive.

He showed up a little before seven, dressed in pretty much the same style as me and looking a bit flustered. "Hey," I greeted.

"Did you bring Take Off Your Pants And Jacket?" he asked, and I nodded. "Great. Let's go."

He took my hand and led me out the front door, which I found a bit strange, considering it was my house, but this was Jack, so I went along with it. He and I walked out to the curb in front of my house, where a black Camry was parked. Jack dug around in his pocket and pulled out a key.

"You drive?" I asked.

"Yeah, I technically still have a learner's permit, but I've been doing it for a while now." He unlocked the car and let us both inside.

"My mom won't let me," I said. "I keep telling her I'm seventeen and responsible enough to do it-heck, I ride public transportation alone and I haven't been murdered yet-but she won't let me try until I'm eighteen."

"Hold up," he said, putting the key in the ignition. "You're seventeen?"

"Yeah, my birthday's in December," I said as I fastened my seatbelt.

"I don't turn seventeen until June." He started the car up and put a foot on the gas pedal.

"Hey, where exactly are we going?" I asked.

"Just a restaurant I thought you'd like," he replied, focused on the road.

I put the CD in the car radio and sat back in my seat, and Jack and I listened to it in silence, occasionally singing along. We'd almost finished the album when Jack pulled into a parking lot in front of an expensive-looking restaurant called Faire Le Con.

"This is the place," said Jack, parking the car.

We got out and made our way to the front doors. "This place seems awfully fancy," I commented.

"It's pretty nice. It's not so nice that everyone there will be judging us, but there are no cockroaches and the food's good," he said as we walked in.

The blond lady at the door smiled at us. "How many?" she asked.

"Two," said Jack, and the lady escorted us to a table near the back. We took our seats as the lady left.

Jack and I looked over the menus. "What are you going to have?" he asked me.

"I don't really know," I said.

"Well, you can pretty much order whatever you want, except the alcohol. I brought enough money," he said.

I read the menu again, and finally settled on something that sounded decent just as a perky-looking waitress bounded up to our table.

"Jack! It's so good to see you again!" she exclaimed, hugging Jack and grinning. "Who's your friend?"

Jack maneuvered out of the hug and cleared his throat. "Alex, this is a long-time family friend of mine, Mrs. Burgess. Mrs. Burgess, this is my boyfriend Alex."

Mrs. Burgess's grin became a confused half-smile. "Boyfriend? What do you mean?"

"Like a girlfriend, except Alex is a guy," said Jack, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh, that's what you meant," said Mrs. Burgess, resuming the grin. "How long have you two been together?"

"About two weeks," said Jack. "This is the first time I've really taken him out like this."

Mrs. Burgess smiled knowingly. "Let's hope it goes well, or we may have a case of the 'Angry Couple' on our hands!" Jack nodded. I didn't really know what to think of that. "Now what can I get you two?"

We ordered our food, and Mrs. Burgess rushed off to the kitchen to relay the information.

After I was sure she was out of earshot, I whispered to Jack, "She seems nice."

"I've known her for a while. She's decent," he said back.

About ten minutes later, our food came. I couldn't remember the name of what I'd ordered, but it was quite good. Jack and I ate, making small talk and trying to avoid the subject of masturbation, which was probably not an appropriate thing to discuss over a fancy meal.

We finished our food quite fast, by which time I was grinning like an idiot and Jack was very pleased with himself for causing that. He insisted on paying. "You can pay next time," he promised.

On our way out, he kissed me on the cheek, and I probably turned bright red.

All in all, it was a good night.

*****AUTHOR'S NOTE*****

According to Google Translate, "faire le con" translates to "fuck" in French.