TIFFIN

20

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I didn't know why, but I felt a sudden twinge of jealousy when I heard Kylie's name. Certainly, I didn't wish it would have been me he'd been heading to the room for. No. She just got on my nerves, that was all. 

"Aren't you going to order something?" I asked, watching as the waiter from before dropped off my lemonade. 

Hero took a deep breath. "No. I suppose I should," He paused to remove his infamous leather jacket putting all of his tattoos on display.

It really was a lot to take in. The black ink swirling to form designs was captivating, yet something so shocking I had to look away. My parents were adamant in telling me tattoos were a sign of danger. That whoever sported them were going nowhere in life except jail or the drug life. 

After he told the waiter he wanted a water and a veggie pizza, his eyes held mine for a long minute, making the moment uncomfortable. I blushed. 

Unexpectedly, he snapped, "Could you quit looking at me in that way?"

I was caught off-guard, blinking my eyes rapidly. "W-what do you mean?" I stuttered.

"It's like you're looking at me under a tight microscope, scrutinizing me," Hero said, "Judging me. I know you're judging me on my tattoos. You're always looking."

I stared down at the chipped linoleum on the wooden table, guilt taking over me. "I'm sorry. I can't help it."

Hero scoffed. "Of course you can't. You're all the same, aren't you?"

Our conversation was abruptly ended by the waiter coming by with our food and Hero's drink. We both dug in, without another word to each other. I did my best to not stare at him and his tattoos, but I slipped up a few times, and I swore he caught me in the act. It seemed to really upset him. 

"You have to forgive me," I began, "I was never really around tattoos much."

"What do you mean around tattoos?" Hero asked. 

I sighed, knowing explaining the way my parents raised me was going to be a long story.

"My parents have always been strict on me, including what I did and what I wore. I wasn't allowed to associate with or have friends that had tattoos. My parents always told me they were bad people."

"What do you think?" Hero challenged. "Am I a bad person?"

"I-well-" 

I didn't know what to say. Yes, he was a jerk and did some rude things, but certainly, that didn't mean he was a terrible person. Then, again, I didn't know much about him. I didn't know what he did and what he'd been through.

"No," I finally decided, "No. You aren't a bad person. You haven't given me a reason to think so. You just make bad decisions."

"What the hell makes you think you know anything about my life?" Hero growled angrily, then paused, as if trying to backtrack. "You people think you know everything about a person. Just because I'm a dick sometimes doesn't mean it defines me."

"I'm sorry," I apologized for what felt like the millionth time, "let's start over. This is out of character for me to ask, but do you... maybe want to go out for coffee and discuss-"

Hero snickered. "I don't do coffee. Are you kidding me? I'm not looking to get cozy with you and make amends."

I bit down on my lip without meaning to. "Then how do you suppose we move forward and befriend one another?"

"Befriend?" Hero nearly spit out his food. "You think we can befriend each other? No. You have this wrong. I don't have many friends and the few people I let in are lucky. If you and I see each other, it will be to fuck."

I gasped at his choice of words. 

"What?" Hero asked. "Has no one ever said that to you before?"

I shook my head without saying anything. No. My parents had done anything and everything to keep me sheltered and safe. I'd never been to bed with a boy nor had I ever thought about trying it. It just wasn't something I'd ever thought about. 

"Then what are we doing now?" I blurted out. "We're talking and making conversation. How do you know we're not becoming friends now?"

Hero laughed at this. "We're not. I'd kill myself before I allowed that to happen."

I stared at him blankly, wondering if he actually meant what he said.

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