It's obvious which it is.
Brie starts to speak but immediately decides against it. Instead, she turns back around, and continues our descent towards the rest of the crowd filtering out of the room. While the process to get to our seats was difficult, the one to get out of the building itself is twice as hard. Between the over hyped and over exhausted, the crowd seems easily unstable. During our attempt to make it to the outside door, someone shoves past Brie, knocking her body into mine. Instinctively, my hand tugs her closer into my protection. I swallow the urge to smile at the action. With her tightly at my side, I slip us smoothly through the gaps, eventually guiding us to freedom.
Outside, I lead us to one of the picnic tables where we park ourselves with asses on the table and feet on the bench.
"That was a nightmare," Brie huffs.
"It's just the end of the night. People are tired. Cranky. Ready to get home, so they can have some rest before work in the morning."
She groans at the word.
"What do you do for work?"
Brie hesitates to answer. "I'm a lunch lady at a private school."
She's....kidding. Is this a weird American joke I don't understand?
Her eyes meet mine. "Seriously."
I press my fist to my mouth to block the chuckle.
"Oh...Shut up," she bites. "Not all of us are just paid to be pretty and social. Some of us actually have to work for what they have."
Now the defensive one, I counter, "I work for what I have too. Make no mistake about that. Handouts may come with my name, but that doesn't mean I take them."
Silence falls between to the two of us as our attention shifts elsewhere.
That went poorly...
I give the back of my neck a small rub and attempt to make amends. "For the record, you're the hottest lunch lady I've ever met."
Brie lets out a small giggle. "I'm probably the only lunch lady you've ever met."
"No. I grew up in boarding school. I've met and learned to love my fair share of lunch ladies."
The word seems to part her lips in surprise.
Not that I was indicating I am in love with her...I just...How do our conversations keep taking wrong turns? Is this a normal date problem to have because I've never had it before now. Before her.
"Do you wear a hairnet?" I tease, thankful when her demeanor changes again. "Tell me. Is it pink?"
"Did they spit in your mash potatoes and call it gravy? Because I would."
A laugh escapes and I retort, "No. They adored me. I'm quite charming."
Brie attempts to argue with a straight face. "To the rest of the world maybe..."
My eyebrows lift in curiosity. "But not to you?"
Her bottom lip momentarily slips between her teeth. She hums softly and turns away, her sweet refusal to answer endearing.
"I'm in town for a week-"
"So you've mentioned," she interjects, her attention at the honking vehicles poorly moving around the parking lot.
"But I want to see you again." This time her eyes move to mine. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
"Why....Are you plotting some weird payback thing for the unconventional plans I made tonight?"
"Actually no," I deny. "Tonight was more fun than I've had in a really long time. Honestly."
Sounds like a line but I swear it isn't. Sex and gambling is definitely entertaining, but not quite like this. This was effortless. The smiles genuine and not liquor coerced. Our conversations and laughs were innocent, not an attempt at manipulation to get something out of one another. It was all rather refreshing.
"You should get out more," she teases with a laugh.
"So. What do you think? Dinner tomorrow night?"
Brie battles what I assume is the desire to say yes.
I'll admit. It's part of the turn on. I've never met a woman quite so determined to tell me no all the time. To crave the creation of a challenge for the sake of capability. Yes. I like a challenge as much as the next asshole with a list of names to cross off, but this is different. This is so much more than some chick who is pretending not to be interested. She has me actually convinced at times she's not. At others? It's impossible to deny. This woman makes me mad and I crave it.