"You into music?" he asked.
"I am, but probably not the kind you're thinking."
"Yeah? Like...."
"Like Brahms, Sebastian, Haydn, Liszt."
"Fascinating."
"Why?"
"I can't quite figure you out. Wearing a pretty little sundress with pearls hanging from your ears. You just got a tattoo that you wanted to go all the way down your arm and you like classical music. Any other music you like?"
"Not really. A little here and there, but I prefer classical."
"Just peculiar, that's all I can say. Not to mention your obvious aversions to romantic relationships."
I located an empty space a few feet from a local pizza shop and parked.
"I'd take you somewhere nicer," I said. "But it would take longer and I figured you're probably starved already. And, just to drill it into your head, I do not have aversions to romantic relationships. I have precautions. It's different."
"Pizza is great." He ignored my speech, opened his door, and bolted down the city sidewalk to the pizza shop. Hungry guy. He did, however, wait for me while holding the door. I plopped a few coins in the meter and jogged to him.
"You really like the chivalry thing, huh?" I walked through the door and brushed his arm, which felt surprisingly … never mind. I would not be that girl. It felt normal. Like Donovan. That's all I felt. That's all I would feel.
"I was raised to treat others with kindness." He touched my back as I walked through the next set of doors. "My father always told me to be a gentleman to everyone, even other men, regardless of how unfashionable it becomes."
"It has become unfashionable." I peered up at the menu. "And I'd like to know why it's so gentlemanly to open doors for people, but not gentlewomanly? Why can't girls get away with doing that stuff for guys?"
The tasty aroma of fresh rolled dough and melted cheese smacked me in the face. Best smack ever. I hadn’t eaten since my rushed breakfast. When I closed my eyes I could almost taste the salty, crispy fries and warm pizza. His hand warmed my back again as he guided me toward the counter. Was that a shiver crawling down my spine? What the—
"Can I help you?" the cashier said.
"Want to split a cheese?" Alistair said. "And some chips?"
His touch. His hand. Although now in his pocket, the warmth of his fingers remained on my back. "Sure. I'll take some fries and a Dr. Pepper too."
"We'll get a large cheese pizza, an order of ... fries, and two Dr. Pepper's," he said, then looked at me. "I meant fries when I said chips. Always forget that."
I excused myself for the bathroom. He did the same, although I bet he really needed to go. I just needed to collect my thoughts and berate myself. Pacing the empty orange-scented bathroom, I told myself not to get tingly sensations or enjoy the way his skin felt against mine. My hormones wanted to ruin me and send me into a full-fledged reel of tawdry romance. I couldn't allow it.
"But I'm not anti-love," I whispered to myself.
The other me chimed in, "He lives in England. It wouldn't work anyway."
"Yes," Less Reasonable Me agreed. "And I don't like to start something I can't finish either."
"Exactly."
"But—"
A toilet flushed. I jerked my head to the left as a lock on one of the stalls jiggled, then dashed into the empty stall before she saw me.
She will see you come out after her, I thought inside, then thanked myself for reminding myself that I wouldn't escape the embarrassment.
I waited until the hand dryer stopped and the door swung closed, then another minute before walking out. I didn't see any women sitting anywhere, thankfully, so I continued on toward Alistair. Starved as he was, the poor chivalrous fellow sat in front of the untouched food. Patiently waiting for me.
I sat down across from him and apologized for the wait. He clasped his fingers together and brought them to his lips, shaking off my apology as though it were unnecessary, then his phone rang. He lifted it, tilted his head back, and exhaled, nodding to me to see if I would mind if he answered the call. I shook my head and wondered if I should also wait to dig in. Be the gentlewoman and what not.
A young girl smiled at me from behind the counter as she lifted a slice of pizza from the steaming vegetable pizza on display. I smiled back and she giggled. Ah, the girl in the bathroom. I stared into my lap.
"Seriously, there's no way I can do that," Alistair said. "Colin, this is ridiculous. You know this isn't the way I wanted to do it. That's the last thing I care about." He paused and noticed me. Yes, I was candidly listening. "Sorry, but I'm not doing it." Another pause. "Give me a break, Colin." Another pause. "This is total rubbish." He ended the call and picked up a slice of pizza. "Let's eat."
"Thank you for that."
"For what?" he said between bites.
"For showing me that you're not always so nice."
He laughed. "I guess I'm prone to agitation as much as the next person."
"It's good. I mean, I'm all about being kind, but it's nice to see that you can also stand up for yourself. It's good to have opinions."
"Of course this is coming from a highly opinionated and therefore biased perspective." He smiled.
So did I. "So, you've already noticed." I laughed. "What was that all about?"
"My manager." He gulped his soda. "Trying to force me into gigs I'm not interested in."
"What are you? A guitarist?"
"Do I look like a guitarist?"
"Not sure." I tapped his hand. "You're fingers are calloused though."
"Nice work. I do play a bit of guitar, but that's not what I do in this band."
I realized my hand was still on top of his and I quickly yanked it back. "Sorry."
He laughed. "Don't be."
"So ... bassist?”
"Drummer."
"Wow." I slurped the last of my soda and wanted more. "Didn't expect that one."
"Stereotypes. I didn't expect you to be the tattoo or classical music type either. More like a country music fan."
"What?" I gasped. "No way. Country? Why country? Not that there's anything wrong with country, but ... why country?"
"I haven't the slightest clue. You seem pretty normal on the surface. I bet you're popular in school, huh? Did you really just inhale more of that pizza than me?"
I picked up another slice and widened my eyes as I brought it toward my face. "At least I’m careful not to get it all over my face.” I dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “I’m not popular as in cheerleader and homecoming queen kind of popular. I do have a lot of friends from different cliques. I get along with a lot of different types of people, I guess. Is that popular? But normal ... I don't want to be normal."
"That's just the thing. You absolutely are not even close to normal." He brought a fry to his lips. "Rest easy."
We finished eating in silence until we ended up licking our fingers and dabbing crumbs. At the same time. We laughed, cleared the crumbs, and shoved our mess into one large pile on the empty pizza tray and stood. "Ready?"