Chapter 10 - You're here, it's good now (2)

He cleared his throat and stared back at me. "What are you doing here? Girls shouldn't be out late at night." His brows lowered, showing his disapproval.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yet here you are."

"But I'm a guy. It's different." He closed the gap between us in two steps. "What're you getting?"

I showed him my five bucks as I replied, "French fries."

Phraser shook his head and let out a deep sigh. He reminded me a lot of Steven when he saw me being silly but was too tired to scold me. "Come on." He nudged his head towards one of the empty tables on the back of the restaurant. "I'll give you some chips."

I glanced over at the blonde lady. It looked like she was going to take a while considering she was a bit drunk and kept saying she wanted pizza. I turned to Phraser who was waiting for me nearby the self-service counter and walked to him.

"How do you eat your chips?" I lifted one eyebrow, unsure of what he just asked. He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Your fries. Do you take salt, pepper, or ketchup?"

"Oh." Sometimes I forgot that he was British. He hid his accent so well that he spoke like a true American. Unlike his brother, Corbin, who sounded so Irish. "Ketchup and salt, please."

He grabbed two packs of salt and poured a decent amount of ketchup into the small plastic cup. We walked towards one of the empty tables and he put everything on the table.

"I thought you're gonna eat that outside." I pointed at the two McD paper bags.

He gave his shoulder a little shrug. "You're here. Might as well." He opened the paper bags and took the contents out.

Three burgers, two large French fries, and one large Coke. Boy, he does eat a lot! I stared at the food on our table with widened eyes. "You eat all of this alone?"

"Yeah, why?" He unwrapped the burger and lifted the bun to peer inside. "Blimey!" He cursed under his breath.

I stopped tearing the salt package and looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot to tell her not to put the pickles." He put the burger on the table, opened the bun, and took out two slices of pickles stuck in between the bun and the meat. He was about to throw it inside the paper-bag but I caught his wrist just in time. Looking up with a confused look on his face, his gaze slid to my hand holding his writer and then back to my face. "I like pickles. Put them here." I moved some fries to one side and pointed at the empty spot.

Phraser looked at me for several heartbeats before doing it as I asked. "How can you be British but hate pickles?" I asked once I chewed the pickles and swallowed them.

He finished one burger and crumbled the wrapper before putting it inside the paper bag. "I'm not 100% British." He grabbed his second burger and started to unwrap it. "My father is—"

"A big and tall Irish man. Yeah, I know." I finished his sentence and reached for another fries.

He paused and looked like he was trying to figure out how I knew that but the frown on his forehead cleared up after a while. "Corbin told you."

"Yep," I replied with a nod.

Phraser took out the pickles and put them next to the fries. "What else did he tell you?" He raised the burger to his mouth and took a big bite. Somehow, even though he ate like someone who hasn't eaten for weeks, he ate with effortless grace. It was almost as if he grew up learning about table manners.

"Not much. He said your dad got married to his mom and they had him." I took his pickles and plopped them inside my mouth. I chewed then swallowed them. I probably should stop eating since my throat began to feel dry and I didn't buy any drinks. He seemed to notice that as he put the straw in and put the Coke in front of me. "What about you?"

"I'll drink your leftover," answered him like it was no big deal. "So, what else did Corbin tell you?"

I took a sip. "He said your accent isn't showing as much as his." I reached for another fries and dipped them into the ketchup before sprinkled some salt on top of it. "He has a very thick Irish accent," I added.

Phraser chewed and swallowed as if giving it some thoughts. "Probably because he spent his childhood in Ireland." He put the second wrapper inside the paper bag. Boy, not only does he eat a lot but he also eats very fast.

"And you didn't?" I asked out of curiosity. Although they were brothers, they didn't look alike. When I first met Corbin, I would never guess that he was related to Phraser. One had the most innocent face I've ever seen while the other had the most mischievous.

"No." He shook his head lightly. "I was sent to an all-boys school in London. St Paul's."

I would never guess that either. "So that's why you're a womanizer," I recalled him being flirty with the brunette in the JJ Dining Hall but making out with a blonde the night before. "You had to live with boys and no girls for god knows how many years."

Instead of getting embarrassed, he smirked. "I didn't live celibate even then." His smile turned dangerous as he leaned forward in his chair and put his elbows on the table. "We didn't spend twenty-four-seven at school, you know." His gaze made me feel a little nervous.