Eve was pissed.
It wasn’t just the general, ‘I could really do with a piece of chocolate and then maybe I’d be better’, it was a genuine, absolute, no holds barred, ‘I’m going to run over anyone who gets in my way because I’m just that angry’.
“But I don’t like it!” the child complained, crossing her arms and jutting out her bottom lip obstinately.
“Well, what would you like instead?” asked her glamorous mother who had clearly had too much botox, placidly putting down her knife and fork and staring at her daughter.
The girl paused for a moment, before exclaiming, “Chips!” so loudly, Eve almost dropped her pad of paper in surprise.
“Okay, a portion of French fries…is that all?” she asked bitterly, stabbing at her paper as she wrote down the order and looked at the customers with a reasonable amount of disdain.
“No, just take that rubbish away,” the stick thin woman responded, waving a hand in front of the little girl’s first choice of spaghetti and resumed picking at her salad.
Eve tried to hold back a biting remark, and picked up the girl’s bowl without receiving as much as a thank you from the woman or her bratty daughter.
“Spoilt bitch,” she muttered to herself as she zigzagged between the tables and tossed the plate in the direction of the kitchens. “Portion of fries, please!”
“You look like quite the happy little camper,” remarked Charlie, tossing a dishtowel over his shoulder and picking up a tray.
“Don’t talk to me about happy,” Eve snapped, agitatedly shoving a few ice cubes into a glass. “You know, if I had been that rude to someone when I was her age, my parents would have slapped me!” she remarked, sending the young girl and her mother an icy glare.
Charlie merely laughed at her and carried his tray out, leaving Eve to fume over her injustice to herself. Nirvana was busy that day; it was a Saturday afternoon, and tourist after tourist seemed to be flooding the restaurant, each ordering their food in a variety of dialects and tongues. Along with the tourists, came the regular Londoners, who stared bitchily at the foreigners on their turf and eyed their rucksacks and flash-happy cameras with contempt. Nobody seemed to be getting on, and had Eve not locked herself in a bathroom stall and counted to ten three times during her break, she might have screamed.
“Eve, stop slacking!” came the bark of a chef behind her, as he tossed a plate of fries on the bar. “Get back to work.”
She sent him a snide, ‘Oh, just fuck off, would you?’ look, and grabbed the plate, along with the glass of Sprite, and headed out amongst the crowd. They were almost like a pack of wolves waiting to ravish her up; table four wanted some ketchup, the couple in the corner were waiting impatiently for their food to be served, and that stupid little beauty queen brat had started crying because she had spilt some milk on her dress, which, in Eve’s opinion, was far too ornate and expensive looking for a child to wear. What happened to kids running around in muddy dungarees and torn sweaters, like she had when she was a child?
She groaned and ran a frustrated hand through her long hair. She sounded fifty years old, not twenty.
“Hey, look.”
The sound of Belle’s voice caught her ears, and she turned to her. “What?”
“It’s your boyfriend,” said Belle, her bright green eyes playful as she nodded in the direction of the door.
“Just what I need; some psychotic ex bothering me when I’m already having a crap day…” Eve began, casting a critical eye towards the door, expecting too see that obsessive guy she had dated last month; the one that had burst into tears when she broke up with him.
To her great delight, Justin stood awkwardly at the door, surveying the scene before him with confused bewilderment. Eve almost rolled her eyes at his perfectly styled outfit; another track jacket which looked similar to the one he had been sporting a few days before except in black, the sleeves rolled up precisely. His perplexed blue eyes darted around the restaurant quickly, scanning for Eve as she smirked at the fitted jeans, that she had no doubt had been custom made for him. Was he always immaculate?
“Shit,” Eve muttered, running a hand through her hair again and wiping underneath her eyes. “Do I look okay?”
Belle slowly turned to look at her and smirked, telling her quite clearly, without the use of words, that she was being an idiot. “You look fine. I suppose you want me to serve him?”
“No!” Eve said forcefully, and swiftly covered her mouth with her hand. “I mean…no, that’s okay. I got it.”
Belle snorted at her strained nonchalance, and turned back to work as Eve quickly checked her reflection in the window, before approaching Justin.
“Welcome to Nirvana,” she said, fighting back the coy giggle that was just begging to escape from her mouth.
He grinned when he saw her, feeling that awful fluttery feeling in his stomach that made it crystal clear he had a crush. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she gushed happily, and mentally slapped herself for that completely unnecessary show of girly-ness.
“I was going to call, but this just seemed like a better idea. How are you?” he asked, casually putting a hand into his pocket and cocking his head to the side.
Eve envied his ability to strike model-like poses automatically throughout conversation as she awkwardly leaned against a chair by the door. “I’m very well; and yourself?”
He shrugged. “I’m better…now that I got some clean pants on.”
She glanced down at his jeans, remembering the dark brown stain, and blushed. “I can imagine that might lighten your mood slightly.”
He grinned at her boyishly, thinking about how much her pale complexion benefited from a tinge of pink in her cheeks.
“Oh! Do you want a seat?” she said suddenly, snapping out of her girly ‘Isn’t he dreamy?’ reverie.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. I have an interview in about five minutes.”
She nodded slightly, trying to hide her confusion. It wasn’t until she remembered that he was somewhat of a pop star in the states that it occurred to her it must be some sort of magazine or something.
“Actually,” he continued, nervously digging his hand deeper into his pocket, “I was just wondering when your shift finished? We could like…you know…um, catch a coffee, or something.”
Justin inwardly winced at his own words. Catch a coffee? How did one ‘catch’ a coffee? Run down the street after a cup with legs on it? He looked for something to hit himself over the head with as Eve looked at him blankly; he was Justin Timberlake, he was supposed to be super cool, not to stumble and bumble his words like some little boy scout with a crush on their teacher. Why was it that, at the sight of one beautiful woman, he lost all his legendary poise and elegance?
“I mean, if you want to,” he said hurriedly, feeling his own cheeks develop a red tint. He felt like awarding himself a prize for being such an idiot.
“Oh, I see…” Eve nodded as realization hit her. “Um, well yes, of course, that would be lovely.”
“Great,” he smiled, before casually placing a hand on his hip. “So like…when?” And why did he add like? Was he, like, some blonde haired Valley girl? He made a mental note to do some serious self scorning once out of Eve’s sight.
“Let’s see…well, I get off at around ten, if that’s not too late,” she suggested. “We could…catch a coffee,” she smiled teasingly at him, delighting in the blush that followed.
“That’d be great. I’ll be here at ten, then.”
“Wonderful,” she said wondering whether he could hear the excited beating of her heart.
“Great.”
She stared at him expressionlessly, waiting for him to give her an excuse as to why he was still standing there, staring at her vacantly. “Right, so…”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He snapped up, blinking rapidly when he realized he had been staring at her dreamily. “Okay, so ten.”
She chuckled slightly, playfully frowning at him. “Bye, Justin.”
“Later, Eve.”
She watched as he stepped out of the restaurant, shook his head at himself, and continued down the street, ignoring the glances a few interested females threw in his direction. She hated to label him with a such weak definition, but he was cute. Not just physically, (although she had no complaints in that aspect), but she hadn’t failed to notice his innocent trips over words or occasional lapses into simply staring at her. She flirted with the idea he might actually have a bit of a crush on her, and it was a refreshing change because, for once, it was finally reciprocated. She didn’t find herself particularly, attractive, but guys seemed to go a bit starry eyed around her every now and then, and ultimately she just found it irritating.
Eve fought the urge to comply with her still slightly immature, teenaged instincts that told her to run home, write Justin + Eve 4Ever over every available surface, and start day dreaming about her and Justin’s children.
Instead, she reminded herself that she wasn’t twelve anymore, and settled for just counting the minutes on the clock, like every other twenty year old out there.
*********************
“When all the skin on my hands falls off, I’m going to be pissed,” she said simply, moving the sponge in circular motions over what she was sure was the hundredth plate and inspecting her prune-like hands.
“Stop whining,” Charlie remarked, accepting the plate she passed to him for drying. “So…you’ve got a date with Mr. Hotstuff tonight, am I correct?”
“No, I’m just going out to get some coffee with him. But I do agree with the Mr. Hotstuff definition.”
Charlie snorted. “I don’t get why you’re getting your knickers in a twist over him. He’s just a guy.”
“He’s just a good-looking, sweet guy,” she corrected, placing a washed dish on the rack, waiting for Charlie as he put away a dry one. “And it’s not often we find one of those.”
“What the hell am I?” Charlie complained, in a voice suggesting he was only half teasing her, and the other half was mortifyingly offended.
Eve laughed, fishing about in the soapy water filling the sink for anything else to wash. “You’re lovely as well.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow but remained silent, running his cloth of a fork. “He looks really young,” he commented after a silence.
“I don’t know how old he is,” Eve shrugged, looking up at Charlie’s stern face. “I imagine he’s older than me, though.”
“How old are you again?” he asked, raising a set of blue eyes towards her.
“Charles! I just celebrated my twentieth birthday in you’re presence a mere…” she began counting on her fingers. “Eight months ago, and you don’t remember!”
“Oh yeah,” he muttered, throwing some cutlery back into a drawer. He brushed his hands on his white apron. “So, when are you going?”
She untied her apron from around her waist and threw it on the counter as she glanced up at the clock. “In approximately three minutes.”
“Well…have a good time,” Charlie mumbled with an air of reluctance as he peered at Eve from the corner of his eye. “Don’t let him get too fresh.”
Eve laughed and rolled her eyes. “What do you mean? I’m clearly the type of girl to let him sleep with me the second time I’ve met him!” she cried sarcastically, wrapping her arms around Charlie’s neck and kissing the top of his shaved head playfully. “Honestly Uncle Charlie, I’ll be fine.”
He tried to hide his bashful grin. “Are you coming into work tomorrow?”
“Nope; it’s Sunday.”
“Okay, well…I’ll see you on Monday?”
She nodded and quickly tore away the hair tie that was holding her dark brown locks away from her face. Quickly running her hands through it to give it some volume and digging in her purse for some lip balm, she looked up at the clock for the millionth time that day, and saw it strike ten.
“Do I look not too dreadful?” she asked, holding her hands out to Charlie and frowning in annoyance that she didn’t have enough time to make herself look fully presentable. She was such a girl.
He sighed, running his gaze over her body. “Beautiful.”
She grinned modestly. “Thanks, Charlie.”
Giving him a quick wave, she grabbed her purse and made her way out of the kitchen, waving at people as she left. Once she was in the dining area amongst the last few stragglers that were having late dinners, her eyes quickly darted around, trying to identify Justin in the slightly dark restaurant.
She saw him sitting at the bar, uncomfortably sipping at a bottle of beer as his eyes scanned the restaurant, presumably looking for her. Nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Eve slowly approached him, praying that she looked better than she imagined she did. Running around all day with a tray of drinks in one hand and a notepad in the other didn’t exactly leave her looking her “hottest”.
“Hey,” she said softly, gently touching Justin’s shoulder and causing him to swivel around in his stool to face her.
“Oh, there you are!” he greeted happily, standing up and lightly putting an arm around her waist in a hug.
She tried to fight back her grin as her arms went around his shoulders, patting at the cotton of his jacket; the light fragrance of cologne provoked her senses, but she happily noted he had not liberally dosed himself in the stuff, like some young men his age seemed to do. Eve always felt like asking guys why they thought gelling their hair to a cardboard stiffness and drenching themselves in cologne (which, she always thought, was just a more masculine way of saying perfume) made them in any way attractive.
Of course, people told her that she was too picky and hard to please; that was probably the only reason to blame as to why such a beautiful girl as Eve, whose personality was as pleasing as her looks, still found herself single.
Recoiling from his hug, she tugged at her short black work skirt self consciously, sighing with relief when she saw Justin was also sporting the same outfit he had been wearing earlier that day. There was nothing worse than being with someone who is dolled up to the nines when you look like you’ve spent the day working in a grease factory.
“So…coffee?” Justin suggested, gesturing towards the door.
“Certainly,” she agreed happily, mentally squealing to herself when he opened the door for her. He was a gentleman, was he?
“So Eve,” Justin began as they left the restaurant and initiated a slow, meandering pace along the streets. “You’re probably thinking that I’m a complete psycho to ask you to coffee when I don’t even know your second name.”
She laughed and shook her head, avoiding a crack in the sidewalk. “No, not at all. After all, isn’t the purpose of coffee to get to know someone better?”
“Actually, it’s usually a euphuism for sex, but I don’t think we’re quite at that stage of our relationship yet.”
Eve giggled and tugged her purse over her shoulder. “Oh yes, the classic…‘d’ya wanna come up for some coffee?’”
“Exactly,” he laughed, digging his hands into his pockets and staring at the white Nikes adorning his feet.
“Well, in this case, coffee is merely an instigator to aid two people in getting to know each other better,” she said triumphantly, cocking her head to his slightly.
“They’re right; all British people are clever.”
“Because I used a word more than three syllables? Hardly makes me a genius, Justin,” she snorted, poking him in the side. “And if we’re going by stereotypes, then all Americans are stupid.”
“I’m not stupid,” he replied confidently, looking up to read a street sign.
“Well, you’d better not be,” said Eve snottily, shaking her head in disgust. “I don’t see why they don’t either educate stupid people, or just kill them.”
Justin kept his gaze on the sidewalk, so Eve didn’t see his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Justin sneaked a look at her from the corner of his eye, realizing that it was true about all beautiful people being such bitches…
Suddenly, Eve laughed and playfully punched him in the shoulder. “I was just kidding; no need to look so appalled.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, I though I was going on a date with Hitler’s granddaughter or something.”
She giggled and shrugged, stepping to the side to let a few girls clamber our of a black taxi and pull up their low cut tops before heading into a club. “So, now that you can safely say I am not the distant relative of a dictator, why don’t we work on that ‘getting to know each other’ thing? If you do turn out to be a psycho, I should at least know the basics when I give the police a report on you.”
“Good idea,” he said, putting a hand on her elbow to stop her footsteps. “Justin Randall Timberlake,” he introduced himself happily, grinning at her as he held out his hand. “A twenty one year old male with short brown curly hair and devastatingly good looks. Weighs approximately a hundred and seventy pounds, about six foot one, and occupation: singer.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, before graciously placing her hand in his. “Eve Mary Thomson. Twenty year old female. Long dark brown hair that is a pain to take care of, weighs approximately…well, let’s not go there, around five foot six and a half, and occupation: poor student.”
He grinned at her as he released her hand. “Not bad set of stats you’ve got there, Eve Mary Thomson.”
“And yourself, Mr. Timberlake,” she replied, tapping him with her purse as she swung it back and forth between them. “I must add though, you forgot to mention stupid American.”
“Oh, and did you remember to say pompous Englishwoman?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
She laughed and nudged him. “Regardless of that, Justin Randall, we’ve passed about six coffee shops and you are yet to take me into one.”
“Oh,” said Justin, knitting his brown in confusion. In the midst of their enjoyable flirting, he had completely forgotten their date with two cups of coffee. “Where do you wanna go? Starbucks?” he said pointing to a green sign across the street.
She rolled her eyes. “If we must.”
“What, you don’t like Starbucks?” he asked in amazement, turning to face her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know…just seems a bit pretentious.”
He rolled his eyes. “Tell me one thing in this world that isn’t.”
She bit her lip to stop her smile. “Fair enough.”
************
“Two black coffees,” said Justin, lowering the two mugs he held in his hand on the table carefully, biting his lip in concentration so he didn’t spill the dark, almost black liquid over the varnished tabletop. “And some milk for you.”
“Thank you,” Eve replied, hastily adding the milk to hers and turning the ominous dark liquid into a slightly more comforting browny-beige. She tried to reach into her purse to pay for hers, but Justin rolled his eyes at her and waved her off, before relaxing into one of the velvety purple armchairs.
“So, Eve,” Justin murmured, smacking his lips together after taking a sip of the boiling coffee. “How long have you worked at Nirvana?”
She shrugged, slowly blending the milk into her coffee as she swirled the white plastic stick in it. “About a year, I think. I don’t specifically enjoy it,” she said indifferently, tapping the stirrer on her cup three times before placing it to the side. “But it’s just a job to help me make ends meet whilst I’m at uni.”
“You go to University?” he said in surprise, raising his eyebrow at her to show he was impressed.
“Yup,” she replied after taking a small mouthful of her drink.
“What do you study?”
“English Literature and Politics,” she responded automatically.
“That’s interesting,” Justin nodded, adding some sugar to his coffee. “And what do you plan to do with that?”
She set her cup down on the table and stared at it intently for a moment. “I have absolutely no idea,” she replied after a pause, before laughing at herself. But that was how all students were, right? They were all just as lost and hopeless as she was…at least she hoped they were.
Justin grinned. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
She shrugged. “That’s what I’m sort of hoping; I’ll get this grand epiphany in a year or two, or however many years until I graduate,” she stopped to calculate how many years she had left, before waving it off with her hand. “Anyway, let’s just pray that at the end of it I’ll have an idea of what I want to do with it.”
“Which University do you go to?”
“Oxford,” she replied quietly, holding her hand up to silence any exclamations that may leave his mouth. “And before you say anything, it sounds a lot more prestigious than it really is.”
“I was going to say…I thought it was impossible to get into.”
She shrugged modestly. “Well, it took a lot of work, but somehow…”
“Don’t worry, I get it.” He smiled at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “You’re a smarty pants, no questions asked.”
She try to hide her grin. “I’m just…normal…”
Seeing her blush deepen, he decided to change the subject. “Do you like it there?”
“Well…” she trailed off noncommittally, staring into the creamy abyss of her coffee. “I don’t really like the university, but I just have to stick it out, and ultimately, it’s good for me. That’s why I live quite far away from it; so that I get a break when I need it,” she explained.
“Why don’t you like it?”
“It’s too…” she frowned and looked around the cafe, trying to find the words. “La dee da.”
Justin almost choked on the mouthful of coffee swimming about in his mouth, but wisely swallowed it before he had the chance. “La dee da?”
She smirked. “Yeah…you know, too arrogant and snobby for my liking.”
Still trying to erase the phrase ‘la dee da’ from his mind before he found himself giggling about it for five minutes, Justin changed the subject. “And you were born in London?”
She nodded. “In Kingston, which is a town near the Thames.”
“Near the what?”
She blinked at him. “The Thames. The river that runs through London.”
“Oh, that,” he cried once realization had struck him. “I walked around calling it the thames all day, until someone told me it’s pronounced ‘tems’.”
She giggled. “Happens to the best of us. I used to say Arkansas the way it was spelt, until one kind soul thoughtfully pointed out it was Arkanso, or however you’re supposed to say it.”
Justin laughed. “My, my, don’t we sound cultured?”
“Oh yeah,” she grinned, sipping her drink. “I think perhaps I belong strictly in England, and you in America. We’re clearly too unsophisticated to venture into other realms.”
“Shut up, Bangers and Mash,” he teased, winking at her.
She giggled and shifted comfortably in her seat, leaning forward to talk to him. “So, whereabouts in America do you live?”
“Anywhere I want,” breathed Justin confidently, flicking imaginary hair over his shoulder. “I am a superstar, after all.”
Eve snorted. “You certainly have the diva attitude nailed down.”
He grinned to show her he was joking. “I have houses here and there; one in Tennessee, of course, because that’s where I was born,” he added. “And I actually just bought a new one in LA.”
“Oh really?” Eve put her elbow on the table and supported her chin. “Isn’t LA chockablock with celebrities like yourself?”
He nodded, rolling his eyes. “And people who want to be celebrities. You’ve never been?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never even been to America.”
“Really?”
“Yes, believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you’re little continent,” she teased, kicking him teasingly under the table.
“Uh oh, I sense an anti-American in my midst.”
“I’m not anti-American,” she replied sensibly, pouring a little more milk into her coffee. “I just don’t like how your country…” She suddenly stopped herself. “You know what? It’s far too late to be getting political.” She laughed, throwing any attempts at seeming intelligent out of the window, and found herself thankful when Justin sniggered.
“Understood. Let’s stick to less pressurizing topics, like whether you have a boyfriend.”
She smiled shyly at his words, taking her elbow off the table and leaning back into her chair, letting her hair fall over her face. “No, I don’t. Do you?”
“Guys aren’t really my thing…” he said in a sorrowful tone.
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “I’m as free as a bird.”
She nodded thoughtfully, fiddling with the stirring stick. “How long are you here for?” she asked softly, fascinated with the oblong white piece of plastic as she stared at it intently.
“Another week or so,” Justin replied quietly, resting his chin in his hands.
“That’s not long,” she remarked, seeing a big set of teeth crunch at a potential relationship. “What are you doing here anyway?”
He sighed and leaned back from the table. “A little business, a little pleasure.” He grinned at her. “I’m just finalizing my album stuff over here, and then next week I go back to the states, shoot my first video, blah blah.”
“Oh yeah, my friend told me you were going solo, or something.” She blushes slightly. “Sorry, I don’t know much about your career.”
“Psh, not a problem,” he waved offhandedly. “In fact, a wondrous thing, because I’m sick of people knowing more about me than I do myself.”
She laughed. “It must get a little overbearing.”
“It certainly does,” he nodded wearily.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked suddenly, her green eyes darting towards him suddenly.
“Um…nothing, I don’t think.”
“Would you like to…hang out, or something?” she said quickly, wanting the words out of her mouth as quickly as possible. She wanted to see him, and since he had asked her out first, it was only fair that she go through the same horror of proposing a date...or whatever it was that they were on.
“Definitely,” he grinned broadly, finishing the last dregs of his coffee. “What do you want to do?”
She paused, mulling his question over in her head. “Been around London much yet?”
“Sort of; I saw the London Eye with my mom a few days ago, and I went to a bar, what was it called….”
She snorted and shook her head. “No, I mean the real London.”
He looked at her, before ruefully shaking his head, allowing a glimmer of a grin to cross his features. “I suppose I haven’t, no.”
“Great,” she said happily, quickly checking the silver watch on her left wrist. “But I should really be getting home. If I get back too late, the boys downstairs will be sufficiently drunk enough to have the balls to say ‘Will you shag me, Eve’, and I have been known to lose my temper and slap one of them every now and then.”
He shook his head, smiling. “Okay, I’ll take you home.”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” she said, standing up and swinging her bag over her shoulder. “If anything, I should walk you home.”
“But I’m the guy,” he protested stubbornly, pouting slightly.
“But I know the area,” she replied logically, giving him a grin as she tousled her mane of hair. “Do you even know where we are?”
“Yeah,” he said proudly, trying to recall the last street sign he had seen. “Um…Convent Garden?”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she took his hand and led him from the coffee shop. “Wrong; let’s go, Mr. Timberlake.”
Eve tugged him along until they were outside of the closing café, and abruptly dropped his hand as though it was burning her. “Uh, well, I suppose it’s this way…” she mumbled awkwardly, pointing up the street as she nervously bit her lip and blushed. Why had he grasped onto his hand? What did she think she was doing? She made a mental note to slap her hand the second Justin was out of sight.
“Don’t worry about me; I’ll just catch a cab.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we can share one to take you home too.”
She shook her head, tugging her bag strap onto her shoulder. “No, no, don’t worry. I live just five minutes up that way,” she gestured in the opposite direction of the dark street, the amber streetlights illuminating the late night walkers stumbling along.
“Is it safe to walk yourself?”
“Of course,” she scoffed, pushing his arm slightly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, well…when should we meet tomorrow?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Nine?”
“Whoa, there,” exclaimed Justin, holding his hands up in objection. “That’s a little early, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an early bird.”
“I‘m not,” he said in a mock firm voice. “You’re a lot safer with half eleven.”
“Half eleven?” she complained, before rolling her eyes and relenting. “Fine, fine…just meet me at my place, okay?”
“Where do you live?”
“Ask the taxi driver to take you here,” she pulled out a piece of paper from her purse, examined it to see what was on it, and shrugged before writing on the back of it in that pink fluffy pen Justin had continuously seen her use. “There,” she handed it to him.
“You should really get calling cards, then you wouldn’t have to write on the back of receipts all the time,” he smiled, folding it up and placing it in his pocket.
She snorted. “Too much effort.”
He laughed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “So…”
“I had a really nice time tonight,” she said, helping him out by making the first affirmation of fun.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, because so did I.”
“So…tomorrow at half eleven?” she reminded him, looking at his pocket where her address lay.
“I’ll be there,” he said, tapping his pocket.
“Okay,” she smiled happily, her oval face lit up by the glorious teeth revealed by her smile. “Night, Justin.” She leaned over, gently kissed him on the cheek, and pulled away.
“Night,” he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the insane grin breaking out across his face; the same one he’d had when Janet Jackson said she liked his shoes.
She gave him a final smile before turning around and walking down the sidewalk, jumping over the cracks in the concrete, and still swinging her purse.
Justin sighed heavily; Eve was a lot of fun, and it seemed unfair that he had to leave in a week. Thanks to the different places of residence, he supposed they could never be more than friends; it was annoying, but nevertheless she’d be a cool person to hang out with whenever he was in London, even if he’d probably never get to see her naked. He shrugged to himself, muttered, “Life sucks”, before sticking his thumb out at the nearest approaching cab.
And that was their first date.
Review Replies
Hollie
Ha, you're innocent smile doesn't fool me, missy! And lol I myself am particularly fond of the "foggiest" reference; I decided I had a limit of two cliche British things I could put in the chapter, and I think that used up my limit for about five chapters! Ooh, and I have seen Haggis served in London--granted I was at a Scottish restaurant, but whatever...anyway, thanks for the review, I'm glad you're enjoying it. It is, after all, for British girls! lol
Nikki G.
I'm glad you like it, and I hope you continue to like it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!
glitter15
It's our job....and how did I know YOU'D be the one to pick up on the copping a feel bit, huh? lol Yes, I am fully aware that you would have unzipped his pants and given him multiple orgasms by the time the coffee had reached his boxers...lol Thanks for reviewing gorgeous!
Gigi
LOL Thank you! (It's true...)
tara
lol She is cute! She's a nice girl, but she's got layers, don't you worry...lol Thanks for reviewing =)
Helena
LOL I know, how the hell could he explain that?? "I was just drinking a coffee..." anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying it and as a GENUINE British girl, you can tell me when I screw up! LOL Thanks for reviewing :)
Lola
Happy to hear you like it! Thanks!
sarahj
Oh, but you love haggis really! And you know you'd "serve" Justin in more ways than one...LOL Thanks for reviewing, Sarah, and all your help!
broken_soul
Well, here's an update for ya! lol
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