Raegan

I stab a piece of romaine onto my fork, simultaneously spearing a halved cherry tomato onto it also. I eat so many greasy meals (free, of course) at the Patty Shack that the rest of the time I eat pretty healthy. So for lunch, I took Clifford to a diner I know that has the best Cobb salad.

"So," I begin, waving my fork around in the air. "What's your secret?"

He swallows a massive bite of BLT pensively. His brown eyes glint with sadness. Oh boy, this is going to get deep. I eat the salad piece off my fork as he stalls. How the hell am I supposed to tell him mine? My stomach clenches with anxiety so I drop the fork with a clang.

He crinkles his nose and rakes a hand through his brown hair. A breath comes out from his lips in a shudder.

"Something about me that I haven't ever told anyone.." Clifford shakes his head. The light overhead flickers and sputters out, somehow making his eyes look even darker. "Are you sure you want to talk about this?"

I narrow my eyes at him. I may have only known him- be that online for a month, but I've talked with him enough to know that he definitely is not one to back out of a challenge.

"Too much of a weenie, O'Conner?"

Cliff rolls his eyes and slurps at his soda, the straw tightly pinched between his teeth. I can tell that I've gotten to him.

"When I was younger, I hardly had any friends- scratch that, I had none." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. His eyes are cast downwards when he speaks again. "My father was a drunk, and all the kids at school knew it. Their parents told them to stay away from me because I was a 'troubled youth'. I guess they didn't realize that isolating me would turn me into one."

"I had anger issues. I was always pissed about something, my dad, our debt, not knowing my multiplication tables, whatever. When my dad finally went to jail for aggravated assault on a police officer, I was in seventh grade. My mom got me a Gameboy that year for my birthday and that began my gaming career, and the rest is history." Cliff finished, looking sadly at his BLT.

"Damn," I say, surprised. I lean against the table, propped up on my elbows. Clifford fidgets with the neck of his black t-shirt, uncomfortable.

"When does your dad get out?" I ask before I shovel another bite into my mouth, careful not to smudge my red wine lipstick.

"He got out last Friday," he mumbled, stuffing his face with French fries.

I let out a low whistle, observing the way his eyebrows knit together. His pink lips purse in a pout as he chews.

Suddenly, his hand reaches out across the table and covers mine. "Your turn," he says with a grin. "How did you get your car?"

This is the last thing I want to get into. And he looks so sad after talking about his dad that I don't want to bring him further down or make him spiral into a rage. Also, how well do I really know him? Talking online everyday and shooting virtual things with him isn't exactly genuine bonding.

But it certainly has been a lot more interaction with one person than I've had in a while.

In my mind, there's a flash of taunting green eyes and caramel skin. Black hair gelled back, those big lips whispering my name.

I let out a sigh, taking my hand out from under his to mess with my salad. There's still half a bowl of lettuce with residual egg on it and I don't want it to go to waste. Not that I can eat it with my stomach doing flip flops like this...

"I'll start guessing if you don't start talking," he warns.

Be my guest, sad boy.

He takes my silence as a cue to begin.

"You stole from Bill Gates?"

"No."

"Bill Nye owed you a favor and you wanted the car."

"No."

"You're secretly Bill Cosby's son."

"What is with you and Bills? Plus I'm a girl, not a boy."

"Your parents are loaded."

"No."

"You were a gold miner."

"No."

"Gold digger?"

"No."

"Damn, I'm out of ideas." He leans back against the chair, wiry arms crossed against his chest.

I roll my eyes, yanking a fry from his plate. Our banter relieved the tension in my stomach, so I begin to nibble again.

His eyes widen. "You're in the mafia."

I choke on a fry. "What?"

Cliff strokes underneath his chin with his forefinger. "That's how you afford the car."

"Why would I still work at the Patty Shack then?"

"To keep up pretenses of course." He rolls his eyes at me as if I'm the dumb one.

"You play too many video games," I say, throwing a fry at him. It wedges itself on top of his hair, tangled in the thick strands.

He tugs it off and pops it straight into his mouth. My nose crinkles as I laugh at him. It feels like forever since I've been on a date.

Wait, is that what this is?

My stomach sinks again, what if he thinks its a date too?

I'm so confused.

"Nah," he shakes his head. "You just haven't played enough."

I quirk an eyebrow at this. "I don't think that's the problem. I've seen your YouTube channel. You've literally played hundreds."

Blush spreads across his face. Yay, I'm doing a good job of distracting him from what he wants to know! Stupid Raegan, why would you even agree to this in the first place?

"Y-y-you've seen them?" It's adorable how bashful he is.

"I'm one of your many subscribers," I wink, tossing another fry at him.

He opens his mouth and actually catches it, chomping down on it with his perfectly aligned teeth. I clap my hands together at how impressive that was.

"Hey Raegan," Cliff says, cocking his head to the side. "You still haven't told me how you got the car." He throws a fry at my face. I can feel the residual grease from it and hastily scrub my face with the napkin.

Can't let it clog my pores! Oops, that's the beauty school talking.

Dammit, he remembers.

"I was dating this guy for a while, we had been together since I was eleven. First boyfriend, first kiss, first everything. You name it, he was there for that hallmark in my life. Things got intense, he broke it off, and as a consolation prize I got this car."

"So.... gold digger." He winks, attempting to make light of the situation. The look I give him makes him think twice.

"You're not telling me everything," Clifford's eyes hit mine with such intensity that I look away.

I shake my head. No, I'm not. It's too much to dive into.

"Another day then," he says.

My eyes meet his, a spark of hope igniting in my chest. He isn't mad

"Okay, yeah." I nod eagerly.

"Promise?"

"Promise," I pledge, shaking hands with him.

"Promise me this won't break us," he said, holding on tightly to my hand. I stared into his green eyes, unable to decipher the emotions he's feeling.

Tears streamed down my face and he caught them with his fingertips. "I love you so much, Raegan." He touched his forehead to mine.

"Then why does this hurt so bad?" I asked, a sob hiccuping in my throat.

His smooth forehead rubbed against mine as he shook his head. "We can get past this."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I never thought he'd break a promise...

I was wrong.