Chapter three

I glace to the isle where the voice came from and realize it is Gabe’s. He must work here because his blue apron has “Pablo’s” written on it.

I glare at him, not fond of his teasing and say, “No I haven’t thank you very much.”

“Wow, fierce.” he says, stepping backwards, and almost running into a bus boy. They exchange words before Gabe’s eyes return to me.

I look at him impatiently, “Aren't you supposed to take my order?”

“Well yeah, but I got distracted.” he says a little too innocently.

I let out a sigh and say “ I’ll have two melon shakes, please.”

He writes it down on his notepad and walks away.

I take a deep breath in and look back out the window. I get bored and look to see if I can spot Gabe coming, and sure enough I do.

He places the shakes on the table, “Will that be all Miss....?”

I realize that he doesn’t know my name, “You can call me Aster.” I say with a fake smile.

“Aster.” he pauses, “Isn’t that a flower.?”

“Yes.” I say back and take a sip of one of the shakes.

“Well, it’s my new favorite one,” he retorts with a smile.

I put on a fake smile that quickly disappears, “Do you mind moving? I need to get home before this shakes melts.” I say irritably, still not impressed with his teasing. He is standing in the isle, blocking my way to exit.

He frowns and sits across from me. I move down the seat to pay at the door, but he catches my arm.

“You never called me.” he says still frowning.

I roll my eyes, and say, “I know.”

He still holds my arm, “Since I don’t have your number, I’ll just have to ask you here.”

“Ask me what?” I say, getting annoyed.

“Do you wanna go out for dinner tomorrow?” he asks, making eye contact with me.

My heart begins to beat fast and all traces of  my arrogance fade from my mind. “I-I would love too,” I say.

“Great,” He lets go of my arm and stands up as if a great weight has been lifted from his broad shoulders. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he adds smiling.

He pulls a real smile from me, and I nod.

He makes his way to the back were I assume the kitchen is, and I get up, pay for the shakes, and make my way home.

With me speed walking, it doesn’t take long before I reach home. I unlock the door, say hello to Vincent, give him his shake, then go up the stairs to my room with mine. When I reach my door I open it, enter my room, and close it gently behind me. I take a seat in my navy blue suede chair next to my book shelf and my desk. I take another sip of my shake before I place it on my desk and pull out Hamlet from my book shelf and begin to read it.

A few minuets later, I realize that I can’t focus. My brain is too cluttered with the day’s events to take in any new information. I put my book back, grab my shake and look over at the only animal living in my room. Well, it was the only animal we could have afforded at the time when I got my little oranda goldfish, Grub. We could get a dog or cat now, if we wanted, but I am content with my fish. Grub isn’t as small as he was when we got him- he is about the size of my fist as of a few months ago (and when you’re that big, a bowl just doesn’t cut it, so we got him a twenty-five gallon tank last month). He adapted to his new surroundings quickly and loves the bubble chest.

“How are you Grub?” I ask the fish, tapping the glass.

He stares at me blankly and swims to the bubble chest.

“I bet you’re hungry. You are, aren't you?” I open the lid of the tank and Grub quickly swims to the surface.

I feed Grub fish flakes and close the lid. I sit back in the desk chair and watch Grub eat the food. I take another sip of my shake before I hear Vincent's voice.

"Aster! Dinner is ready! Hurry down before it's cold!"

"Alright Vince!" I yell back, getting up from the desk chair.

I head down stairs and see Vincent dishing out his homemade garden salad into two bowls on the island.

“Yum.”I say and take a seat on the right-most chair tucked into the island. “What else is there? What happened to the lasagna?”

Vince looked up at me, hurt, “A garden salad isn’t good enough for you?” He drops the spoon he was using to dish out the greens.

I stare into his auburn eyes. You could guess that Vincent and I are siblings, just by looking at us. We both have black hair-his is a side swept style and I have very rugged hair with layers and side bangs, which I often wear down, since it’s pasted my shoulders- with auburn eyes. He is tall, genes from our dad, and I am a medium height. I wouldn’t want to be any taller, and thankfully, I stopped growing last year sometime.We are both very lean, and by looking at us, you’d think we are very serious, but once you got to know us, we love cracking jokes, Vince more so than me.

He stares back before he begins to grin.

I shake my head and pick up the wooden spoon and hand it back to him, smiling.

He take is and finishes dishing out the salad.

He sits down and he explains how he isn’t very hungry (why the lasagna wasn’t made), and I can’t help but notice that I am not either. He talks about his day, about his job, he is a painter, and what else we would have had for supper if it wasn’t for our hunger.

I once asked Vincent about why he didn’t pursue the culinary career, since he is very fond of cooking. He stated that he applied for a job at most of the local restaurants a while ago, but none of them were looking for a new chef. Instead of politely saying they didn’t need his help, one restaurant said that he should consider applying for a fast food joint. As I would’ve, Vince took offence to that, and never applied to another restaurant.

I decide to debate whether or not to tell Vincent about the day’s events. He continues talking, and with me being the person I am, I push him out of my mind, and focus on Gabe, our conversations, him asking me to dinner, and just his slender and handsome face. I occasionally agree or disagree with questions asked to me by Vincent.

I soon realize that it is silent in the kitchen now. I look up from the salad bowl that I was staring at, and find that Vincent has his head propped up on one arm, looking attentively at me.

“Sometime bothering you? You’re never this quiet at home.” he states, putting the emphasis on the word ‘this.’

“No, nothing is.” I guess I say this too quickly because Vince looks at me sceptically.

“There must be something because you love my garden salad and you have hardly touched it.” he motions toward my bowl and I look down on it.

I pick up my fork and munch on my salad, shoving it into my mouth.

It is quiet for a few more minuets before I say, “ Well, there is one thing...” his face brightens, and I continue, “I was walking through a hallway and I bumped into this one guy. His name is Gabe.”

“Is he in your class?”

“Well, no, not that I’ve seen,-er-noticed. He helped me up from the floor when I bumped into him....you know what it’s like walking into a wall?”

He chuckles and replies, “Yes.”

“Well that’s what it was like. Anyway, I fell and he helped me up, and we were sort of holding hands-”

“Hold on, holding hands? Do you even know him? Do I need to be the adult and talk to him? Tell him not to touch you again?”

I laugh because he can’t be the adult and the best friend in this type of situation. “No, don’t talk to him. ‘n let me finish my story.”

“Please continue.”

“After our hands were touching, he walked away, but in my hand was his number.” I cannot read his expression but it looks like a combination of shock and awe. “And when I was getting the shakes, I saw him there.”

“Is he following you? Cause I can talk to him,” Vincent says getting up and taking the bowls to the sink.

“No, hes not, he works there. And he asked me to dinner tomorrow night.” I say that last sentence at a faster pace than how I was talking before.

“Oh.” His back is to me, but I know he feels my eyes watching him.

There is a pause because I am not sure what to say to keep this conversation flowing. I suppose he notices it, because he says “You wanna go?”

“I think I do... I think I might like him too.” I say innocently.

He turns around. “Then you should go.”

I look at him through my bangs, “I can?”

“Sure, why not? I’ll just cook tomato soup.” he only makes meals out of tomatoes when he knows I won’t be home, because I can’t stand them.

I get up and rush to him. “Thank you Vince!” and I wrap my arms around him.

He chuckles again, and when I go, he shrugs, as if to say “No problem, Sis.”

I thank him again and rush up to my room. I take out the note from my butt-pocket and place it on my desk. I want to call Gabe but I don’t know what we would talk about. I take a seat on my bed and look over at my clock, which reads 7:30pm.

I go to my dresser and pull out a pair of fleece pajamas. I carry my pajamas and make my way to the bathroom. I shut the door and place the p.j.s on the counter where the sink is and pull out a burgundy colored towel from under the sink, which there are cabinets. I put that on the counter by the sleepwear and get undressed. I run the water for my shower and when the temperature becomes suitable I get in. While I wash my hair and my body, I can’t stop thinking of Gabe. What if he stands me up? What if this is a prank? I quickly push those negatives thoughts from my mind and start thinking of what the date will be like.

The water in the shower starts to get cooler, so I rinse off and get out. I dry off and and when I’m dry to my standards, I put my pajamas on. I pick up my dirty clothes and walk to my room. I drop the clothes and towel in the corner of my room- where I put all my dirty clothes- and walk over to the full body mirror. I pick up my brush and drag it through my smell-good hair.

When I finish brushing my hair, I sit on my bed again and look at the clock. It now says 8:06pm. I fix the sheets on the bed which have come untuck from under the matres bu tucking them back under. I put the blanket that slid off of the bed during the night, and place it back on. Doing this, I realize how tired I really am, even though its just past eight.. I crawl into my bed and close my eyes.

I must have dozed off because I never go to bed with my lights on. I grunt and reluctantly get up. I walk over to my desk and shut off Grub’s light. I then shuffle my feet to the light switch by the door. I shut it off and open my door. I can see Vincent’s light on in his room, so I drag myself over to his room.

The door is open, and I see him laying on his bed, reading.

“I’m going to bed Vince.” I say. I don’t know what it sounded like to Vince, but my words sound slurred to me.

He looks up from his reading glasses, sitting on the end of his nose. “Good night Aster.”

“You locked up right?” I ask, squinting at him.

“Yes I did. You better get some sleep, you have a big day tomorrow.”

I nod and turn to leave.

“Wait.” he says, and I turn my head, “I don’t have work tomorrow, do you want a ride?”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”I reply.

He smiles, “Alright, be ready at 8:45.”

I nod and smile back weakly. I pad down the hallway, back to my room. but I pause. I love listening to sounds. Inside and out. Right now, I hear the hum on the refrigerator downstairs, my fish tank, and Vince’s smaller fish tank-he has a blue and purple beta named Sawgwa-that barely purrs.

“Good night.” I say louder since I’m closing the door behind me.

“Sleep tight.” He says back, but I hardly hear him.

I crawl into my bed once again, and this time, pull all of my covers up over my ears. It doesn’t take me long before I fall into a dreamless sleep.