{16}

Chapter 16: (Ethan's POV) I stood there, watching her grin like a fool, jumping around at her victory. "See! Anyone can be beat! Ah-ha!" she exclaimed, strutting over to me. "Yeah, sure. Anyone can be beat after seven games," I nodded. "Shhh!" She chuckled, clamping her hand over my mouth, "Don't mention it," she whispered, going on her toes and leaning in closer to me. I lifted a brow at her, my hands on the table as I leaned forward. "Why?" I asked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in front of me, my hands on either side of her, trapping her between me and the table. "Because… don't mention it," she repeated. "Just… don't mention it?" I frowned in confusion. "Right," she nodded. We both fell silent, staring at each other. "I'm hungry," she mumbled. "Then we'll go get a bite, come on," I said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the restaurant within the arcade that was upstairs. We sat down and scanned through the laminated menu. "What can I get for you today?" a waiter asked, coming up to us, as little enthusiastic as possible. Olive and I looked at each other before looking at the waiter. "Uh… I'll take a club sandwich with some fries and one iced tea," Olivia said before turning to me. "I'll take the same thing," I answered. "Will that be all?" he asked, looking back and forth between us. "Yes, that'll be all," I replied. He stood there, writing the order down at a snail's place. "Um… actually, can we please get a different wait-" I stopped talking, stiffening and resisting a wince when Olivia kicked my leg. "That'll be all," I cleared my throat. "Your food will be brought within 15 minutes, have a nice day," he said monotonously before walking away. "Don't be mean, not everyone likes their job," she said, spinning the menu around on the table. "Then why do they do it?" I mumbled. "To make money. Obviously." I sighed, "Okay." I put my hands up in surrender, "All right." "Can I ask you something? It's kind of personal," she said. "Sure, I can't promise a complete answer though," I nodded. "Are you close with your family? Your parents and everything?" she inquired. "I'm really close with my mom, a fair amount with my dad," I shrugged, "Why do you ask?" I eyed her. She shook her head, "No reason. Just curious." I leaned forward, "Are you close with your family?" I asked. "Not really," she answered. "Why not?" I questioned. "My parents have always been anywhere but at home. They travel a lot for work together, it's always been this way. I think since I was four years old," she shrugged. "Four years old?" She nodded, "I actually think my first memory is seeing my parents off at the airport, that's the first memory that comes to mind. Everything before that is all thanks to birthday photographs." "D- does that bother you?" I asked, clearing my throat. "It doesn't bother me per se, it's just annoying." "Annoying?" I wasn't convinced that that was the right word to use. "It's just… upsetting," she shrugged again. "You don't like it when they travel?" I asked, sliding the salt shaker between my hands. "I just get a little lonely at home by myself," she replied, zoning out, staring at the table. She snapped out of it and looked up at me, "Which is why I think I should get a dog, any advice on that?" she asked, faking a smile. I know her enough by now to know when her smile is genuine and when it isn't. I shrugged, "I wouldn't know, I've never had a dog. My dad's allergic to them," I answered. "That's a sad allergy," she mumbled, looking around the place. "Hey, maybe we could do basketball after this," she spoke up, looking at the two basketball machines. "You better be good, weren't you on the team in middle school?" She turned to me. "Yeah, for a week," I scoffed. She frowned in confusion, "What happened after a week?" she asked. "I got hit in the face and passed out," I cleared my throat. She stared at me, a smile tugging at her lips. "Are you serious?" she asked, one corner of her mouth quirking up. "Unfortunately, yes," I nodded. She snorted, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep in her laugh but she was failing miserably. "Oh, god," she sighed, one hand on her stomach while she leaned back. I sat there and stared, smiling to myself. "I'm sorry but wow. Okay, at least tell me you were good while it lasted," she chuckled. "I don't know, that blackout kind of wiped my memory clean of basketball, I sort of blocked that sport out," I laughed. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry that happened to you," she laughed, grabbing my hand while resting her head down on the table. "Well, since it's making you laugh this hard, I'm not," I said, watching her with a smile. "You're staring at me, it's weird because no one's around to watch so I know you're not doing it for show. Why are you staring at me though?" she asked, pulling her hand away and straightening up. I shook my head, "I zoned out," I lied. "Here is your order, enjoy." Both of us looked up as the waiter set our food down and left without a word. She turned to me, narrowing her eyes down to slits. "You didn't zone out," she whispered. "You're right, I didn't," I said, staring at her and losing all control over what I was saying. "So why were you staring?" she chuckled, stirring her iced tea. "I don't know, you look weird," I shrugged, lying and instantly regretting it because that is such a douche thing to say. "You're so nice," she rolled her eyes. "I have another question for you," she said, grabbing one of my french fries even though she had plenty on her plate. "Go ahead," I sighed. "How many kids do you want?" she asked. "Two," I answered. "Are you secretly married?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me once again. "No?" I said, extremely confused. "Then why do you act like a husband almost all the time? I say that because most of the time you're playing boyfriend. So, as a boyfriend, why do you act so husband-y?" she questioned. "I do?" I frowned in confusion. She nodded, "You do. And I've seen you with kids at games as well, you act like a father too. I think someone needs to remind you that I'm not your wife, you don't have one, and nor do you have any kids," she laughed. "But one day I'll have both, right?" I asked. She looked at me quizzically. "So, what's the harm in acting like it now?" I shrugged. "There's no harm, I suppose. It's just weird when you act like that with me. It makes me feel… weird," she mumbled. "Don't let it," I shook my head, "We'll get married and have kids, then it won't feel weird," I chuckled. She rolled her eyes, smiling and softly shaking her head. "You're not funny," she grinned. "Maybe I'm not kidding," I smirked. "You couldn't tolerate me as a wife," she shook her head. "Yes, I could," I scoffed. "Nope," she laughed. "Yes," I argued. "Prove it one day and I'll believe you," she grinned. "Okay," I nodded. "Okay," she mumbled, smiling. "Oh, shit," I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing I was supposed to be doing something. "What?" she asked, looking around as if someone was here. "No, there's nobody here just uh, there's this um, there's this party tonight that my parents are going to, I have to be there and I was supposed to grab my clothes for tonight from the cleaner's," I said, "It's fine, I'll grab it on my way back home. Um, I take it you're not going cause your parents aren't here," I said, scratching the back of my neck. "Yeah, is it the one the Martins are hosting?" she asked, sipping at her drink. "Yeah," I nodded. We fell into silence and continued eating. I eyed for a minute before speaking up, "Why don't you come? I mean, Justin will be there and even though Anabelle's parents aren't in this business, he'll probably bring her as his date. I'll take you," I shrugged. "You'll take me as your date to the party?" she asked, surprised. "Don't be surprised, obviously I'll take my girlfriend," I winked. "Okay," she laughed. . . . . . Chapter 16