Milia

    'Street tacos parking.' I read the banner as he pressed the parking ticket machine. He drove down an underground park. After parking, he stopped the car. He locked the doors, and I looked at him.

"What are you doing? We are still in the car." I got nervous. I shouldn't go out with a guy I just met.

"Chill," He removed his sunglasses and put them in a cover.

"Miles, unlock the car immediately." I firmly said trying not to show terror expressions on my face. The car started to emit a weird sound.

"You have to lock the car to close the ceiling. Don't let your imagination scare you."

"I'm not scared," I flipped my hair off my shoulder.

"Then go easy withholding your bag; your fist turned white already." I looked at my hand. Why does he have to be so analyzing? "Don't worry. I'll never harm you." He added, unlocking the car after the ceiling was closed.

I said 'phew' in my head and got out."For a second, I thought you were a serial killer," I said as I walked near him outside of the park.

"Really?" He elongated the 'ea' sound and stopped in his tracks.

"Come on," I said, but he stood still.

"Look, I didn't mean to give you any of these vibes. I'm sorry." He had serious facial expressions. "If you want to go back, we can." He said with seriousness filling his voice.

"No Miles. It's just misunderstanding. I get scared easily. That's it." I made it up because I made him feel terrible. But I think he should be locking himself up with a girl for the first time they go out in an underground garage. Did I overreact?

I walked a few steps back to him and grabbed his hand. "I would look hilarious if I dragged you all the way. I'm too short for it." I smiled struggling to make him move. I looked up to him when he started walking, and he smiled. I left his hands and walked normally beside him.

He held the door open for me, and we got in. We composed our Tacos and sat in a brown wooden table.

"Which high school did you attend?" I asked him as we sat.

"Lowell high with Scott."

"Fancy. I attended Lincoln high." I said.

"I was a star there. A lot of friends, quarterback, and fine grades. Gosh, I want these days to come back."

"A lot of girlfriends too huh?" From where did I come up with this?

"Most of the girls were plastic, physically, and emotionally. I thought they'll melt from the heat. They wanted to get along with any guy in my squad for money, reputation or just to get known that she's dating a football player. Very few were loyal, and they were just friends with the whole squad. It's only one girl that I decided to get in with her in a serious relationship. She cried from my sarcasm and wanted me to be a sweet talker the twenty-four hours. For God's sake, I can say nice stuff, but not all the time; it won't be from my heart."

"Why don't we say that you are judge-y and you feel everyone wants to exploit you?" I asked him.

"I won't deny that this sensation hit me for a while, but two things proved me wrong. One, when a girl dated one of us, the popular guys, and break up with him, she'd go after another guy in the squad. Two, when some guy gets on with a girl, the others would spread rumours that she's using him. They sullied every single famous couple. See, they got intentions. It was sometimes true. I'm not saying that all of the guys' relationships were like that. It made me believe that who has a dirty mind will never be convinced that there's good in people."

"Logic... I think you are talking about high school bitches. They ruin our reputation." I let a sigh.

"Don't worry, I'm not a judge." He leaned back.

"I agree."

"We lasted for three months. She's not back, but we didn't cope." He illustrated.  "And, what about your High School?" He asked.

"I was known but not popular, you know? Back then, I didn't like the lights. I mean, I got an extraordinary friend group, good grades, invited to popular parties, and a good reputation among students and teachers. What do I want more?"

"This sounds better than Hollywood movies. It just misses the boyfriend part."

"Umm, the following may sound arrogant. I liked helping people, and sometimes being a good friend or a shoulder to cry on is a kind of help. So, many thoughts that by just me helping them, that I romantically like them. Boys always got me wrong. I got heartbroken by some of them because I thought we were deep friends. I end up chocked that they know nothing about my way of thinking. At some point, I was going to write being friendly doesn't mean that I love you, and sticking it on my forehead. Only a few realized my intentions. Add to that a lot believed that I'm dating Newt. But we were just friends, and forever will be." I took my breathe as I was speaking so fast.

"It's not arrogant. I got you..." He said."It's wild having a good heart in a good world... Wild isn't always easy or fun, so you should've been prepared." He added.

"You're right." I smiled.

"I am." He grinned. A very eye-catching sight caught my eye behind him. A waiter with a tray holding four Tacos. Naturally, in natural people, I mean, the brain is the organ that orders the rest of the organs. In my case, my stomach replaced my brain and ordered the rest of the organs to pray that this trey is ours. The waiter walked past us and disappointment hit me.

"What's wrong?" Miles asked leaning to the table.

"Nothing!" I smiled changing the look on my face.

"So you are telling me you didn't get a single date?" He asked.

"No, I went out on so many dates, but I've never agreed to the second date. I never found the right guy. I've never felt something odd." I finished and a trey hit our table.

"Finally!" I cheered and clapped.

He laughed on my childish reaction displaying a perfect set of teeth.

     "So are you always this quite when you are eating?" He asked as I was chewing on Tacos.

"All of my dates didn't include food because how would the guy know me while I'm busy with food. Also, I lose manners when it comes to eating." I said and took another bite.

"Oh, now I see." He laughed.

      We finished eating and each one paid for himself. We got out and started walking to the garage.

"Who named you?" I asked him the question he didn't answer in the text.

"I don't know. They never told me." He said looking straight in front of us.

"You should ask them, and tell me. Names stories get interesting..."

He drove to my house and stopped the car. "The Tacos were amazing. Thank you." I said looking to him.

"My pleasure. I had a great time." He smiled. The ceiling was closed so his deep voice was the only thing my ear sensed. I'm not complaining though.

"It's been a while since I talked about high school," I added.

"Me too."

"I will have a debate with Scott."

"About what?" He asked.

"He said you aren't talkative. Maybe he's not, or maybe my prayers worked."

"Neither. I just loved talking and recalling stuff with you, Milia." He explained.

"Night Miles," I said opening the car and getting out.

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Note

What do you think so far? Do you think they are going to get along and be friends? What will be Newt's opinion if so?

Vote and comment!

Salma :)
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