Fall ❈ Benny Rodriguez

iii. paper castles

　"Yes."

　He returned his attention to the menu, as if I had asked such an extremely simple question. I stared at him, bewildered, for a moment. Then a grin cracked across my face, followed by a laugh. "Are you serious?"

　"As serious as this milkshake you're about to try." Jordan looked up at me, dropping his menu. "Trust me, it's great."

　Another laugh escaped. "Oh, I can see you don't want any questions."

　He shrugged. "It's simple. My dad isn't even in the state—New York, work thing. And my mom is hardly ever home these days either. Also a work thing."

　My eyebrows rose. "Well...."

　Jordan chuckled. "I don't mind. I'd rather be here with you than stuck in the house. It's the summer. It's time to break rules anyway."

　"Is that what you thought when you came home drunk?" I laughed.

　Winking, he pointed a finger at me. "Exactly. Anyway, are you ready to order?"

　"Yeah." I dropped the menu atop Jordan's, and then winked at him. "Why don't you get red-headed Marilyn's attention?"

　Jordan's brows furrowed. "Why'd you look at me like that? That little...mischievous look."

　"Come on, put it together. She looks like a young Marilyn Monroe." When Jordan stared at me blankly, without understanding, my mouth dropped. "You mean to tell me you're not in love with her? If I liked girls, I probably would be."

　Jordan leaned back into the cushioned seat, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes locked on mine. "There's only one girl in this room who catches my attention," he said, "and it isn't her."

　Red-headed Marilyn seemed to materialize out of thin air. Surely everyone would notice the embarrassing flame of my cheeks. After she took my order, she moved on to Jordan, and I looked away, desperately hoping that my cheeks would return to normal.

　At the jukebox stood a familiar brunette. The sight of her tightened my throat. She smiled and, finished with her selection, skipped over to her table.

　There sat Benny, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes trained on Brandy. Fortunately, the embarrassment of Jordan's comment had vanished from my mind. Unfortunately, the red of my cheeks, the burning sensation, did not find relief. The reasoning merely changed.

　

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"GOOD, isn't it?" Jordan watched me with a grin, eyes burning bright.

　The milkshake—some mixture of Jordan's, a light red color—did taste wonderful. A burst of coconut and some strong berry exploded on my tongue, and I gasped.

　"Oh, my God!" I whisper-yelled. "Can I have this?"

　Jordan laughed loudly, leaning back into the booth to watch me. His eyes positively twinkled. "Sure."

　"Not really." I pushed the tall, curling glass across the table. "I wouldn't take your stuff like that."

　Grinning, Jordan reached to pluck the straw from my own milkshake. He stuck it into his milkshake, directly across from the straw I had just drank from.