The day I stopped singing in the shower

Chapter 7: A thing

"Do you miss it?" The waiter came with our food. I had ordered pasta and he ordered a pizza. I was overwhelmed about the size of my plate. It had been a long time since I hadn't eaten something like this. I tried to stop my mind from counting the calories and focused on answering the question.

"Sometimes. I loved the weather there, and the people. And food. I don't know, everything is very different. But I go every summer so I get to see my family and all. I like it here though." I shrugged and put a piece of pasta in my mouth. I moaned lowly.

He watched me amusedly. "That good?"

I laughed and nodded. "It's just I haven't had pasta since-"

"Since?" He asked grabbing a slice of his pizza and devouring it.

"A long time ago." I said trying to smile. I almost spit that out. I couldn't tell that to him. I didn't know why but I got so comfortable for a moment that I swear for a second I wouldn't have minded telling him about my disorder. What the hell was I thinking?

"Tell me more about you." He said suddenly stopping from eating.

"Like what?" I chuckled.

"I don't know, you're intriguing."

I'm the intriguing one? I didn't know anything about him. He was the mysterious one, not me.

"Ask me something." I put more pasta in my mouth.

"Do you have siblings?"

I nodded. "Two brothers. I'm the one in the middle."

We spent the night like that. Him asking me questions and me answering them. I knew I was talking too much, but he listened to me quietly, nodding to everything and asking me more and more questions. He even laughed at some of the things I told.

"Are you done?" He glanced at my plate, half of the pasta was still there but I wasn't going to eat it. I nodded and he called the waiter, and payed for our food.

We stood up, I put my jacket on and he came next to me. He put his hand on the low of my back and guided me outside.

It was raining again. We ran to the car and got in quickly.

"You know, I was going to get in first, close the door and leave you out there, but I felt bad and thought better of it."

"Well, thank god you have a heart!" I scoffed buckling on my seatbelt as my chest rise rapidly, out of breath.

The engine roared as he pulled through the driveway.

"Who gave you my number?" I asked distractedly after a few minutes.

"Nick."

"And why did you ask for it?" I turned to look at him, my bottom lip inside my mouth as I bit it.

He turned to look at me, humourless as ever. "Why not?"

"I don't know. Why would you want it?"

"For a day like this, for example."

I glanced back at the window to hide my blushing.

"Is this becoming a thing?"

"I don't know. You want it to be a thing?" He asked looking through the rearview and turning the steering wheel.

"And you?" I drove my eyes towards him again, my hands nervously playing with my purse.

"I asked first, but whatever." He chuckled. "Yes, I guess I want it to be a thing. I asked for your number because I thought we could, you know, 'hang out'" he raised two fingers gesturing quotation marks, "apart from seeing each other at some random party everytime."