feather

five: so i can spy on my friends' first date

Popping up from underneath the sub-shop table, I pulled my binoculars out of my backpack. Psh, who uses their backpack to keep their books? Nope, spy equipment was much more essential than education. I squinted into the tiny little holes and focused the lenses so I could clearly spot Matthew and Delia, sitting outside at the restaurant across the street. This sub shop was perfect; it was pretty much empty (except for a waiter and one guy in the kitchen, but I mean, whatever) so I could spy on them without getting kicked out for stalking.

Matthew seemed to be doing a good amount of talking. In fact, he carried at least 30% of the conversation, which was like my grandma completing the triatholon: somewhat saddening (my grandma was eighty-three at the time and I still die when trying to climb up a flight of stairs at the ripe age of seventeen) and weird, because it was like watching a fish suddenly grow legs and walk. 

Delia was laughing and smiling and being all Delia-y, working her euro-chinese charm on him by patting his hand and staring into his super-cool storm gray eyes. She even ordered her food elegantly; who isn't elegant when ordering food? There's just no way to avoid the awkwardness when the waiter comes around asking what you'll be stuffing into your facehole. 

And (I swear my friend wasn't human), when the waiter came around to ask how the food was, she didn't even have her mouth full! The girl had skill. 

Matthew smirked seventeen times in total during their date, and laughed a whopping total of five times! Five! That's more than I've seen him laugh in the two days I've been back. I needed to step up my comedic game. 

"Can I get you something... miss?" a teenage boy asked, pulling out a pen and notebook paper. "Um, may I ask: what're you doing?"

"I'm spying on my best friend's date, now shh, I think they're hitting it off!" I shushed him, and he knelt down next to me. I could feel his breath down my shoulder. He smelled like Axe and cinnamon. Maybe he'd had Cinna-bon as a snack earlier? 

"Can I see?" he asked, curious. I gave him a weird look before handing him the binoculars. "Who's your friend?" 

"The guy, the one with the brown hair in the long-sleeved blue shirt with the hole on the right sleeve. I told him not the wear the shirt, but no, Matthew knows everything," I ranted, smacking myself. How did I even let him go outside in such a train wreck of an outfit? It was like Lady Gaga and modern art had a baby and Matthew was now wearing it. 

Just kidding. That would be a pretty sick interpretive Halloween costume, though. Matthew just looked so unkept; his hair was unbrushed and his shirt had a hole in it and his sports shorts had a small grease stain (I knew because I was the one who accidentally got it there—It was a french fry food fight gone wrong. How was I supposed to know his pants would stain?!) on the left side of the waistband in the back. It was a wonder Delia was still listening to him talk. 

"Hello?" the waiter guy snapped his fingers, and then pointed at them. "Look! I think he's making a move!" 

I snatched the binoculars from him. "What? Oh, man, that's like the worst move ever. She didn't even have sauce on the corner of her lip, come on, Matthew!" He was using a napkin to dab at her lip. Their chairs had somehow scooted closer together in the short time I was internally ranting about his outfit. 

"Wait, let me see!" The guy snatched the binoculars from me and peered through them. "He's going in for it! See, he's leaning in closer; oh, classic head-tilt, yes!" 

I pushed the guy out of the way and looked through the binoculars just in time to see Matthew plant a smacker on Delia's lips. 

"AND HE SCORES!" the teenage guy yodeled, and did some tribal dance that guys do whenever one of their 'bros' manages to land a hot girl. 

I snorted, feeling kind of annoyed. "You're a pig." 

The waiter guy shrugged. "True. And you're hot. Wanna go make out in the staffroom?" 

Why the hell not? "If I get a free meatball sub, I'm down for it."