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Excited about the milkshakes, I smile and wait patiently for the waitress to bring them out. Rhylan lifts his butt from the seat as his hand goes to his pocket, extracting his phone and unlocking it before extending it towards me.
“Here. Put in your number. So next time, I won’t look like a stalker just showing up at your house,” he says with a wink.
I smile and take it, carefully pressing the ten digits that’ll connect him to me with a single press of a button. When I’m done, I hand his phone back to him and smile.
“I swear I wasn’t stalking you, by the way,” he says. He tosses his phone on his dashboard, the clatter ending his sentence.
I can’t help the amused laughter that creeps through my lips. “You showed up at my house unannounced. I’m getting some slight stalker vibes from you.”
“I wish I could explain to you why I did that. But I don’t even know why.”
“Try me,” I urge.
He sighs. “I don’t want to sound obsessive or anything, but I couldn’t get you out of my head. Everything we talked about and said to each other… I hadn’t felt like that in such a long time. I just… I had to see you.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, but this isn’t it. I’m no one, practically a stranger. So completely forgetful in comparison to those that Rhylan must encounter on a daily basis, and yet here he is, telling me I left an impression on him. Like I had imprinted on his life somehow. And for some reason, it doesn’t scare me. I feel hopeful that I could do that for him, hold his hand and tell him it’s okay to feel everything that he’s feeling. Because maybe he could do the same in return.
“Are you and Bella Raven dating?” I ask abruptly. I don’t mean to ask such a personal question, but I blurt it out. Claire and I had come to the conclusion that the two were together, and I wonder why he isn’t turning to her.
When, instead of answering, he chuckles and shakes his head, I blush in embarrassment. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him that.
“No, Ellie. We’re not,” he answers. He says my name the way someone would to scold. To assertively correct the inaccuracy in my question, leaving no room for doubt. He lowers his head towards his lap before turning and looking at me through his thick lashes, his smile gone.
“I’m sorry, I guess that’s a little personal,” I say, embarrassed.
“Don’t look too much into everything you read out there. A lot of the gossip is exaggerated to draw in an audience.”
“I’ve never read anything like that,” I say, shrugging to show indifference. “I saw you two at the premiere. Just the way she touched you and looked at you. Like you belonged to her.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” he answers seriously. His expression is dark, his intensity alarming as he stares straight ahead. His eyes shift, pensiveness glazing over them as if he’s thinking about belonging to someone. As if any possibility of it, to be a half of a whole, isn’t something that’s attainable for him. It’s just an illusion filling his days, fleeting as a mere afterthought.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I look away, apologizing once again and embarrassed to have spoken so impulsively.
“No need to apologize,” he says. He shakes his head, a grim smile appearing on his face. “Things are just complicated, and I wish they weren’t.”
When I look back at him, there’s a hidden softness in his features. His eyes are tilted downwards, and his jaw relaxes into a small smile. We continue to look at each other when we’re interrupted by the waitress bringing us our shakes and fries.
“Thanks,” Rhylan says to the waitress as he takes our order from her before turning to face me again. “So do you want strawberry or vanilla?”
I reach for the strawberry, one hand gripping the Styrofoam cup while the other takes one of the two straws in Rhylan’s hand. The devilish grin that cuts across my face draws a loose laugh from Rhylan just as I take my first sip. I groan in excitement and look at him with surprised eyes. When he said they were to die for, he wasn’t kidding.
“I told you,” he says with his eyebrows wiggling. I groan again through a second loud slurp, inhaling it bit by bit.
“Try dipping a fry in the milkshake,” he suggests. My smile drops to a frown, confusion and disgust spreading through every inch of my face.
Rhylan laughs. “It’s good! Trust me,” he says. He takes a fry, still steaming from the fresh grease it had been boiling in, and dips the entire length of it into his vanilla shake. He takes the whole fry into his mouth, and my mouth drops open.
“That was gross,” I finally say.
“You can’t knock it till you try it,” he says, reaching for another fry. He dips the fry again, the milkshake pooling from the hot, oily fry, and extends it towards me. “Here.”
I tentatively take it from him and eat it. I chew, realizing that it actually isn’t that bad, and make a sound of approval.
“See! It’s good, right?”
“It’s not bad,” I say, my mouth still full. “I wouldn’t say it’s good though.”
“But don’t dip it in the strawberry one,” he adds. “It doesn’t taste the same.”
