Southern Boy Charm | ✓

Chapter 4

The diner was quaint, and we were seated at a booth in the back, the window beside us showing the few passersby. Nick was straight to business when ordering: two short stacks with bacon, and when the waitress brought the steaming plates to our table I could feel my mouth salivating.

"Do you come here a lot?" I ask him, trying to make small talk.

He looks up at me from digging into his plate, "Yes," he grumbles. Silence falls on us once more. It's unbearable, all his few word answers. He's incapable of keeping a simple conversation, and it's even more frustrating that he doesn't even care to.

"Is there a problem?" I ask, dropping my fork so that it rattles loudly onto my plate. "One minute your hugging me to make your girlfriend jealous, and the next you're treating me like something on the bottom of your shoe."

He glares at me. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Is that really all that you get out of what I said." He looks at me silently. I let out a huff, returning to my food. "You know what, just forget it."

I can feel his intense stare on me before I hear him push his plate away from him. "I used to come here every Sunday after church with my mom and dad." I look up at him, his eyes hard and unreadable. I can't hide my surprise that he brought up his dad, and suddenly I feel bad for pressuring him to say something.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Don't." he interrupts my apology, and I could tell that the conversation about his dad was over. However, for the first time he seemed to be in a talkative mood, and I wasn't going to let it go to waste.

"Can I just ask you something?" He nods hesitantly, and I continue. "Why don't you like me? I thought we used to be friends?" I can hear the whininess in my voice, but I can't go without knowing.

"I don't dislike you."

"Really? Is that why you've ignored me ever since I got here?"

He rolls his eyes, "I don't dislike you, I just don't want you here."

"And why is that?"

"Because I don't need your help. I can do it on my own." His face was defiant and firm. I let out an exasperating sigh. Does he really think that I want to be here to?

"Newsflash: I don't want to be here either. I would much rather be back home with my friends than stuck here with you. But I'm not going anywhere, and I at least deserve the chance to prove that I'm not as useless as you think I am."

I look up at him, finally emptying everything I wanted to say off my chest. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, and I can tell that he found my little rant amusing. He's so confusing, shut off one minute and smiling the next, but before I can ponder on it too long he cuts me off.

"Well, I already promised you a chance, and I'm a man of my word." He sits, fiddling with his straw before glancing back up at me. "I'll give you one week. I'll give you all the farm chores I have to do, and I won't go easy on you. And when you quit-"

"If." I cut him off. The corner of his lip quirks up again.

"When you quit, you have to stay out of my way for the rest of the summer."

"Deal." I say sticking out my arm to him from across the table. He grabs my hand and shakes it gripping it firmly.

"Deal."

And from the shining look in his eye, I can tell that he thinks that he got the better end of the deal, but little does he know. I may not look much, my dull wavy hair and pale skin, my build short and lean, but if there is one thing I am, it's tough. You don't grow up playing softball without developing a little fight in you.

I laugh to myself, and he looks up at me, now both sides of his mouth slightly quirked up.

"What are you laughing at?"

I play with my straw, waiting just a little longer than usual before looking up at him. Now it's my turn to smile.

"You'll figure out."