Now That You Are Here

Too Many Sins?

"You don't think I'm too young for you."

"Not at all. I like being here to support you."

"Are you sure? Because if you can't deal with my bullshit, I would go now."

"You are my life. I would be giving up my own life. So, no. I think I would die if I saw you with someone else."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's good to know because I have a date tomorrow. With a guy from our English class."

"Oh, really? What's his name?"

"Re...Rever. Rever...Hans."

"Sounds wonderful, but you are a horrible liar."

I glance at him, and we both burst out laughing. Tears sting at my eyes, and I try to settle myself down but I can't.

"You didn't even try. You didn't even have a name ready. Jesus..."

I snort, taking the last bite of my waffle.

"Rever Hans? That's what you came up with? My god!"

We both uproariously laugh, not caring about the disturbance we are causing in the busy, already loud breakfast spot. I pull out my wallets as the waiter comes back over, asking if we want anything more to eat or drink. When Brixton is distracted, I hand him my credit card, quietly telling him to have me pay. He smiles down at me, taking it from my hand, and slipping it into his pocket.

I take another sip of my water and hide my smile behind the glass. Brixton and I, while we wait for the bill, continue talking about random things. The conversation just glides along as always. The waiter comes back, dropping off the bill and my credit card. When he places it in front of me, Brixton physically grimaces. 

"Are you alright?"

"I was going to pay."

"No, my treat."

"But this is my date."

"Your date? I thought we were both here."

"Damn it, kitten! I wanted to pay!"

"Well, so did I! You've been taking care of me for what feels like days. And I have already paid, so you can't take it back."

"Gosh, you're annoying."

"Annoying? I just paid for your meal."

"A meal I wanted to pay for."

"How about we split next time?"

"Or I just pay for the rest of your life?"

I sign the receipt and slip my credit card into my wallet.

"You are not paying for everything for the rest of my life."

"No, there's no debate. You are never paying for anything ever again. You can even use my credit card."

"No way in hell!"

"How about in heaven?"

"We both know we are never going to get there even if it exists."

"Too many sins?"

"Yes. I would think so. Though I have no idea about all of that."

I grab a twenty and a five out of my wallet, so I can tip, but Brixton has already done it.

"You paid, I tipped."

"Fine."

He stands up out of his seat and takes my hand. As we pass the waiter, we both thank him. I start walking towards the car, and Brixton helps me open my door.

"Where are we going?"

"Our surprise date. It's a nine minute ride."

"Nine minutes on the dot?"

"If you hurry up those little legs of yours and get in the car."

"Shut up!"

Brixton laughs, getting me into the car. He closes the door behind me and gets on the driver's side. The ride is quiet, except for Norah Jones (once again) playing in the background. Brixton holds my hand as he parks along the sidewalk. I look around to see the Museum of Contemporary Art right across the sidewalk.

"No way! I've always wanted to go here!"

"And that's why we're here."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now come on."

It takes about three hours, but we are finally done. We are both exhausted, hungry, and dangerously annoyed. Not with one another but with people. Ugh. Sometimes people really suck. Like, I can't. People just have no respect for anything or anyone besides themselves anymore. On the way back to my apartment, since it's closer, Brixton and I rant about the assholes in the museum. We try not to scream too loud in the car because we might burst our own eardrums.

"Did you see that family that let their kid touch the art?! I was about to murder that woman! I swear to the devil! I have no idea why that was real!? Did that really happen? Fucking bullshit! It's bullshit, Brixton! Ugh! Fucking hell!"

I say a kind hello to Mrs. Howard before ranting to Brixton again. I don't even think he is listening to me anymore as I hand him my apartment key. We walk inside, taking off our shoes as I continue to bitch about the worst people in the museum. Brixton doesn't say anything, but he opens my fridge and heats up leftover Chinese food that I have. Once the microwave goes off, he hands it to me and nods towards the fork.

"Eat."

I take the fork, shoving food in my mouth and soon, everything seems a hundred percent better.

"Those people were horrible. The fucking kids, Brixton. I can't deal with it. I have never seen such disrespect on a level like that before. It was just awful."

He kisses my temple, eating his own leftovers. The doorbell rings, and I get up to open it. When I do, shock fills me.