Rose Bridges

Eight

Carmen

My arms are crossed as I observe him from across the table.

His thick bottom lip is pulled into his mouth as he stares at the menu.

He's very nice to look at.

Something about his face is just...I don't know how to explain it.

All his features work nicely together. The light brown eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes, tan skin, slightly upturned nose, defined cheek bones, and very full mouth. His hair is in a clean fringe, the sides short and the top covered with messy wavy hair. And something about his eyes is just...huh.

He's something new compared to all the blonde white boys at the school who make my blood boil and are cocky privileged little shits.

Don't get me wrong, I'm privileged too and I know it.

I'm aware that I'm privileged, and I'm grateful for the life I was given. Except something about the way the guys at school carry themselves...it makes me want to hold my nose. And not just because they all smell like they've doused themselves in cologne.

"What would you guys like?" The waitress asks, dragging my attention away from him.

"Can I get waffles with some of those strawberries on the side? And a strawberry milkshake?" I smile kindly at her.

Wrinkles form in the corner of her eyes as she writes it down. "Good choice sweetie."

Romero grabs my menu and his and leans back in his seat while holding them out for her to grab. "Can I get waffles too? And a soda?"

She takes the menus from him and nods. "Of course kid, what kind?"

"Coke." He clears his throat and his cheeks pinken.

She nods. "Your food will be out shortly."

Once she's gone he taps his fingers on the table as I stare at him. He still hasn't met my eyes.

"How long have you been going to our school?" I ask.

His eyes look up from his lap and meet mine. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he continues to tap his fingers on the table. "Late last school year."

My head tilts and I cross my arms. "I never see you around."

He shrugs. "I mind my business there."

My eyebrow lifts. "Yeah? And how's that working out for you?"

His eyes lift again and meet mine. An attractive crooked smile pulls at his lips before he chuckles, his hand lifting up to his cover his face as he rubs his forehead. A second later he removes his hand and I try not to smile too wide at his red face. "Not very well I'll admit."

My smile falls slightly and I lean back in my seat. "Alexander?"

He scoffs. "Dude's a fuckin' tool."

I look to the table. "Tell me about it," I mutter.

He stares at me for a moment, thinking. "What's up with him anyway? Does he have a golf club up his ass or some shit?"