Lucas felt lightheaded at the mere sound of her voice, smooth and rich like melted chocolate flowing from pillow-soft lips. He risked a glance at her and felt all the air rush from his lungs. He could spend all day and all night waxing poetry about the absolute goddess that blessed his family’s restaurant with her presence every Friday- from her wild and coily-tight black curls to that chubby, supple body perfect for cold Winter nights and wet Summer beach-days and snuggle-worthy Autumn days and fresh, rainy Spring days. He would happily drive his brother insane talking non-stop about the galaxies her dark eyes held, the stars that shimmered in their depths. He would willingly worry his parents by obsessing over her dark skin like ground cocoa beans, how he wanted to spend hours touching it, sink into it, sink into her.

Pharah Hendrix- no relation to Jimmy Hendrix…that anyone could prove.

One would think that after three years of a hopeless crush going nowhere, Lucas would move on, find a girl he actually felt confident enough to approach. And he’s tried! There was a cute girl Sophomore year that had caught his eye and made his heart quicken a beat, a girl he had three classes with and who’s company he enjoyed. Then Pharah, whom he only had one class with that entire year and hardly said five words to, simply walked by his locker with her friends and he was a goner again, his heart fluttering like a love-sick hummingbird wanting to follow the sweet scent trailing behind her. He barely remembers that other girl’s name now.

Lucas is stuck in his feelings, accepted them and the powerful hold they have on him, a willing prisoner to the girl he was- as his brother so delicately put it- too chicken shit to talk to.

Not anymore. That changes now.

“Here to pick up?”

“Like I am every Friday.”

Michael chuckled as he took the receipt stapled to the plastic bag of food and punched in the prices for the order to the cash register, “Right. How is everything at The Black Feather?”

“Tonight’s the bi-monthly Drag Show, so…louder and more festive than usual,” she answered, flashing Michael an amused grin and handing him her aunt’s credit card to pay for the food.

“I keep saying I’m going to go to one, but I never do,” he mused, running the card and waiting for it to approve.

“That’s because you don’t really mean it,” she replied, grinning more.

“I mean it! I’ll go before the summer’s out.”

“You said that last summer, too.”

“…”

“And the summer before that.”

“…Well…”

“You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. It’s not a good look for a guy.”

Michael laughed horrendously loud, Lucas making a face as he quietly sneaked behind him to grab the bag with Pharah’s order, before he tore the receipt out of the machine and handed it to the girl, “Alright, alright. I’ll keep the promise this time. Cross my heart. Now let me just get-”

“Here you go, Pharah!”

Michael whipped back around and shot a look of disbelief at him, but Lucas stubbornly ignored it, all eyes on the pretty girl staring back at him. Lucas held the plastic bag out to her, smiling warmly and pleasantly- a little more than he would for the customers- and managed to keep his voice from breaking. Now all he had to do was not break out into a sweat or make a fool of himself.

“Oh, thanks Lucas,” she said, taking the bag from him.

‘God, her smile is so pretty. And her curls look so full and shiny. And she smells so good!’ Lucas thought to himself, actually giggling when he heard his name leave her lips and only stopping when she gave him a funny look, Michael snorting to his right.

Well…so much for not making a fool of himself.

“U-Uh…you’re welcome,” he stammered, fiddling with the sleeves of his uniform dress shirt, hoping that she couldn’t see the red of his ears because boy, were they burning, “Everything should be in there. Napkins, utensils, sauces…all of it.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” They stood staring at each other, Lucas struggling not to float away in her dark gaze while thinking of something good to say and Pharah wondering why the air felt so awkward all of a sudden. “So…how are you?”

“I’m good! Pretty good. Busy. Always busy, especially here. I mean, not that busy. Not so busy that I don’t have a life, but you know…just the right amount of busy.” He’s rambling. Lucas is rambling. Why is he rambling?! “It’s not like I’m getting into drugs or anything, so…that’s good.” What the hell?!

Michael is desperately trying not to fall apart laughing at his little brother’s expense, his face turning red from holding it in and the man having to turn and cough into his fist more than a couple of times. Lucas hardly takes note, though, too busy drowning in regret when Pharah regards him like one might a psychopath, and nodded her head.

“That’s…great. I’m happy for you. You keep that up,” she said, taking a step away from him, “…So I’m going to go now.”

‘Yeah, she’s going to go and tell her aunt that you so very casually mentioned drugs and how you weren’t getting into them, which will probably make Ms. Grier think that you are getting into them and then she won’t let Pharah come pick up the food anymore. Fantastic. You’re a real winner, Lucas,’ he berated himself, flinching at his own stupidity and rubbing the back of his warm neck.

Michael, recovering enough to quietly enjoy his brother’s embarrassing fall from Pharah’s good graces, waved at her departure, “Yeah, it’ll be safer for you if you did. He might offer you some crack if you stay any longer.”

“I would be offended if he did,” she retorted, Lucas’s heart dropping into his stomach the second before she tossed the brothers a mischievous smirk, “I’m a high class lady. I only accept premium LSD.”

Michael laughed easily enough, shaking his head, but Lucas was having more of a difficult time, still embarrassed by his rambling and offering a nervous laugh as the back of his neck continued to heat up with a blush, no matter how hard he tried to rub it away.

Someone’s phone dinged, Pharah reaching into her purse and retrieving her cell. She made a noise in the back of her throat and rolled her eyes none too seriously; “That’s Auntie M asking me where I’m at. I better get going before she starts panicking that I’m lying dead in a ditch somewhere,” she said, waving at the boys, “See you guys next week.”

‘Say something! Do something!’ Lucas urged himself, running his fingers roughly through his hair as he started to freak out as Michael played witness, ‘Don’t let her leave thinking you’re a crackhead!’

“Uh, hey!” Lucas flinched at the volume of his own voice, Pharah’s shoulders flinching as well as she turned to him again, more than likely wondering what his problem is now. “Um…I’ll walk you!”

Michael snorted behind him, but Lucas focused only on the quirk of Pharah’s brow. “You’ll walk me?” she repeated, less as a question and more as a statement from someone who doesn’t believe you.

“Yeah, why not?” he shrugged, feigning cool nonchalance even though he was sweating waterfalls on the inside, “It’ll be safer to walk in pairs and you’re aunt won’t be so on edge about you walking back by yourself.”

Pharah gave a short laugh and shook her head, “I’ve been making this trip every Friday for almost four years. Pretty sure I’ll survive. Besides, aren’t you on the clock?”

…Oh yeah.

“I mean…yeah, but it’s fine! Mom and Dad won’t mind. It’s 15 minutes tops.”

“15 minutes there and 15 minutes back; 30 minutes that you’ll be gone. Your parents are cool, but even I know that your dad will probably send you through a wall if you just disappear for 30 minutes during your shift. I’m actually kind of surprised that he’s not out here right now looking for you,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael added, smiling in the face of Lucas’s hottest, most irritated glare; it did absolutely nothing to faze him.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer. I’ll see you later.”

Her response was resolute, Lucas feeling himself deflating as Pharah and her curly hair and soft tummy and plush thighs sauntered out the door and into the night. He tore his hand through his hair in frustration, his cheeks burning hot and a curse muttered through his lips. The one time he works up the courage to actually talk to Pharah that’s not a cowardly quick greeting in the school hallway between classes, he fucks it up. He’s not sure if he ever had a chance with Pharah, of being anything other than ‘the guy I go to school with who probably does drugs and whose parents own a restaurant’, but if he did, he’s certain he shot that to shit, too.

Asking her out on a date is now out of the question.

While he’s sulking and berating himself, Michael is silently watching him from behind, his eyes rolling heavenward in slight judgment. It amuses him to see Lucas’s struggle with Pharah, especially since Lucas seemed to function just fine around other, equally attractive girls, but…it did bother him to see him so irritated with himself over this.

He supposes he could help him out…just this once.

“Hey, I know you’re busy mourning the loss of a love life, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Piss off, Michael,” Lucas growled, shooting the older a dirty look before turning to stomp into the dining area.

Michael just shrugged, “Alright, I guess I’ll just chase Pharah down and give her back her aunt’s credit card that she accidentally forgot.”

Lucas was back at the host desk in the blink of an eye, “She forgot her credit card?”

“That’s what I said.” Michael held up the plastic card for Lucas to see, “Still don’t want to do me that favor?”

Lucas reached for what is essentially his golden ticket, but then paused and retracted his hand, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “…What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that you man up,” Michael retorted, forcing the card into Lucas’s hand, “I’m tired of hearing you and your friends complain about these girls and guys that you all want, but don’t have the balls to even talk to. You’re the luckiest out of all of them, so you really don’t have an excuse other than you’re just chicken shit.”

See? There it is. Chicken shit.

Michael came around from behind the desk and swiftly removed Lucas’s apron, tying it around his own waist, “I’ll cover for you with Mom and Dad. Get going before she gets too far ahead.”

Stupefied, Lucas heard himself say, “You’re not dressed properly to work!”

Michael gave him a look as if that were one of the many dumbest things he’s heard Lucas say, “I’m wearing a black polo and dark jeans. It’ll be fine. Now get out of here!”

Lucas did not have to be told a third time, the teen booking it out of the restaurant with Ms. Grier’s card held tightly in his hands. Michael watched him go and sighed in slight annoyance, rubbing his forehead, “He never stops being annoying.”