Chapter 91

"Are you guys just going to keep on staring at my sister and go on making her uncomfortable?" he ask. I can see that all the while he says this, his head is still bent over, looking into his milkshake bottle and I'm sure if he raised it up, he would see the flush of embarrassment that has coated my cheeks.

I don't know why he's like this today. Sly, shifty, almost like a fox. "If you don't want them to pay for the drinks, are you going to pay for it yourself?" I ask him.

I know fully well that he cannot, as our aunt has just recently inflicted a cashless policy on us.

It happened a few months ago after I had gone out on a date with Aron. I had almost been mugged on my way back by some group of guys, well I'm guessing it wasn't really wise of me to have been walking around alone at such a late time, in a slightly revealing outfit, and with all but my purse in hand.

I had thought Aron would take me home in whatever car he would bring, or maybe he would even do me the honor of walking me back, but we had had an argument that day, over something so irrelevant, the same relevant thing he seems to have broken up with me for.

I had been walking back home dejected and lonely, as we had basically caused a little scene at the restaurant. He wanted me to go back home with him, and then I would leave the next morning, whatever happened within the night would be considered as normal and natural of two people who love each other.

I just wasn't ready for that sort of thing, and so I had to decline. He got angry and left me in the restaurant. If not for the timely intervention of a passerby I'm pretty sure I would have been more than mugged that night.

I would have lost the thing I so desperately wanted to keep and treasure, and so I returned home dejected and slightly bruised. My aunt instead of consoling me or asking me what happened, simply inflicted a no cash policy on us, so we are basically cashless.

Scott might have enough money on his credit card, but I can't say he takes that each and every place he goes.

If he doesn't it just means we are all stranded here, and screwed up well that's if he still insists that no one pays for the drinks.

He gives me a look that tells me to just let the matter slide, and so I do. It's better to not know what he's up to at this point, and just let the events unfold how he wants them to.

We all continue in a lovely little banter, and for a moment it's ugly pleasant to just talk and sip away as we order another round of drinks.

An unresting ripple in the restaurant makes me know that someone has arrived. Someone who walks over to our seats in a rage the next minute.