Eliott Price Should be Dead

eight - metallic

Nigel and I are sitting in McDonalds while we stare out the window and eat eachother's fries. Romantic? Probably.

"How is your burger?" I ask him with a fry sticking out of my mouth. I watch cars pass since our booth is right next to the drive through lane.

"Average, what you'd expect," he answers me. I take a break from watching cars to look at him.

I'm sitting in the direction of the counter so I can't help but to let my eyes scan over the line of customers waiting to order. I see a man fish out his black wallet from his jeans. He opens it and sifts through the bills until he finally chooses a few to tug from the leather.

Shit.

"What time is it?" I ask Nigel since he's the one wearing the watch and not me.

"It's half past six," he tells me slowly as if he knows I'm up to something. He's right.

"Damn, I should have known. It's dark outside," I reluctantly say while falling back against my seat.

"Did you miss something?" Nigel asks me as he takes another bite of his burger, his pale eyes panning towards me.

"Eh, not really, I was just supposed to meet this kid an hour and a half ago," I say as vaguely as I can in hopes that Nigel will just drop it.

"Meet about what?"

"I'm not even sure," I tell him while shrugging and crossing my arms. At least I was being honest.

"Well, don't you wanna go and meet him?" Nigel asks me with the most concern I've ever seen on his face. Some mustard was smeared on his top lip which made it hard for me to hold back a small laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Nigel asks me again, this time a little offended. His whole demeanor changes as he freezes in time like whatever I'm laughing at is something terrible.

"You just," I say between chuckles while I point to his face, "look so serious but there's mustard on your lip."

Nigel grabs one of our napkins and wipes his mouth while giving me a small, playful glare. I grab his burger in the meantime and take a bite, keeping eye contact the whole time as I chew a huge chunk of his burger in my mouth. I puff my cheeks out to make the whole thing a little more dramatic.

"That's okay, have some more. I like sharing food with people I love," Nigel boats as he sits up a little straighter in our booth, almost getting satisfaction from the fact I just ate half of his burger.

"Damn, you were all sensitive about this two hours ago but now you're making it into a joke?" I say directly after swallowing the food, "kind of turns me on."

Nigel quietly laughs and balls up his mustard-napkin to toss at my chest. "Fuck you!"

"You wish," I say as I immediately lean in to take a sip of my soda, my eyebrows raising high as I anticipate his next action. I don't let my eyes stray from his, but somehow his hand sneaks across the table. Next thing I know, the straw is getting pulled from my mouth and Nigel is  drinking the rest of my root beer. I hear him hit the ice through the straw and he sets the cup down like it's some sort of accomplishment.

"Unlike you, I don't like sharing food with the people I love," I mockingly tell him as I cross my arms again and return to my position slumping against the back of the booth seat.

Nigel gives me another glare before digging back into his half of a hamburger.

I love my relationship with Nigel, don't get me wrong, but I don't think I could ever see us being more than friends. He's like a brother to me and I wish I knew where his stupid romantic feelings came from.