Page 6 of Still Love You

"Don't start. I'll get enough of that this summer."

Our parents are staunch environmentalists. They use almost no paper products. Only cloth napkins are allowed and Willow's mom makes her use the same cloth napkin for the entire day, unless it's a messy meal that really dirties the napkin.

"Here." I reach across the table and pick up Willow's hand and place the twenty dollar bill in it, letting my fingers graze her palm. She inhales sharply at my touch, then quickly fists her hand around the money and pulls it back from me. She used to love it when I'd run my fingers over her skin. Not just her palm, but all of her. She said I had magic fingers, able to cause a response in her with just the slightest touch.

"You didn't have to pay," she says, shoving the money in her wallet.

"And you didn't have to jab my side when I was giving that girl our order."

"I didn't jab your side." She takes the stack of napkins and evenly distributes them between her and me. She likes things to be even. It's part of her need to have order. Disorder drives her crazy, which makes living with her parents a challenge.

"You jabbed me so hard I think you bruised my ribs." I lift up my shirt and her eyes go straight to my abs. Her gaze lingers there a moment, then she quickly glances away.

"I didn't bruise you. You look...fine." She sits up straighter and looks out toward the small road that goes by the restaurant, watching as a cyclist goes by. "So why were you flirting with her? You don't live here. It's not like you could date her."

"I wasn't flirting. I was just giving her my order." I stretch my legs out under the table, letting them brush against Willow's.

She crosses her legs and turns to me. "You were giving her the Silas smile. No girl can resist that and you know it. You were definitely flirting." 

"Why do you care?" I nudge her leg with mine and keep it there. I know I shouldn't keep touching her but I can't help it. I haven't seen her forever and now that she's here, I have this need to touch her, even in just an innocent way. I'm a very tactile person. Touch is a way I communicate, sometimes without even knowing it.

"I don't care," she says in a tone that implies the opposite. "Do what you want. I just don't think you should flirt with some girl you have no intention of asking out. You're leading her on."

"A person can flirt without having it go anywhere."

"Then what's the purpose?"

Typical Willow logic at work. She has to have an answer to everything. An answer that makes sense to her.

"There doesn't have to be a purpose." I know that comment will get her going, but I put it out there anyway.

"Of course there does. You can't just do something for no reason."

"Fine." I lean across the table and give her that Silas smile she was referring to. "I flirted with her so she'd get your order correct. I'm sure they're not used to having to follow such specific guidelines for making a burger. I was just making sure they got it right."

She sighs. "I appreciate your efforts but you don't have to resort to selling your body just to get my order correct."

I laugh and sit back. "I wasn't selling my body. It was just a smile."

"I think that girl would like more than that." Willow holds up the receipt, which has a phone number written on back with the words 'call me.'

"Huh. I wondered what she wrote on there." I take the receipt and shove it in my pocket.

"You're keeping it?" Willow looks disgusted with me.

I shrug. "You never know."

"Never know what?"

Before I can answer, our food arrives, delivered by a short, scrawny kid who doesn't look legally old enough to work. He's probably the little brother of the girl at the register. They look similar.

"Wait." Willow stops him before he leaves. "Could you get us another cup for the milkshake? And another straw?"

He nods and walks off.

I set the basket of fries between us as Willow inspects her burger, lifting the top of the bun.

"Is it the way you wanted it?" I ask.

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