Totally Not Average

I swear, probably the whole cafeteria had their eyes on us, but you know what? I didn’t care. Right now, it was just Alex and I. Nothing more.

I smiled slyly at him, “Wanna go ditch this place?” I cocked my head to the side.

He grinned at me, “Thought you would never ask.” He gripped my hand tighter, warming me up completely, and pulled me up.

I giggled, “I think Zach is going to hate us,” I whispered in his ear, scanning the crowd with excited eyes.

“Let him,” He whispered back, “Serves him right for using you.”

I threw my head back and laughed, “Since when are you such a ‘gentlemen’?”

He shrugged, “Are we leaving or not?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, “Let’s go.”

---

Alex and I had ended up going to Burger King, of all places. It was funny how two people could have so much fun together, even if it was at a crappy fast food joint.

“Pass the ketchup.” Alex stated, not even asking or saying ‘please.’

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Get it yourself.” I muttered.

“What was that?” He joked, raising an eyebrow.

“I said,” I was speaking slowly now, so he could understand, “Get. Your. Own. Ketchup.”

He picked up a french-fry and threw it at me; yeah, that’s right: he threw it at me. I laughed and picked the French-fry up from my lap, and then put it on the table.

“You are so immature.” I shook my head in mock disappointment.

“Psh,” He scoffed, “Like I care.” He threw another fry at me.

“Stop it!” I exclaimed, laughing at the same time.

“Can’t handle the pressure, huh?” He teased, throwing another one.

“God! Alex!” I whined, ducking under the table.

“Cheater!” He yelled, “You aren’t supposed to go under the table!”

“We aren’t even playing a game!” I shot back, getting out from under the table.

Immediately, I was bombarded with French-fries. I held up the food tray and blocked the flying fries with it, throwing some at him.

“Now who can’t handle the pressure?” I asked, giggling.

Someone cleared their throat. Alex and I stopped throwing French-fries and looked up; a guy with a burger king uniform was glaring at us. I set the tray down, spying a look at Alex; a smile twisting at the corner of my lips.

The guy opened his mouth to speak but Alex whispered to me, “Run.”

I looked back at the guy, who was about to say something and then at Alex, and nodded. Without another thought, Alex and I both shot up from our seats and burst for the door, running as fast as we could.

We ran across the parking lot and desperately scrambled into his car, while Alex slammed on the gas and shot out of the parking lot.

I was laughing so hard; tears were coming out of my eyes, “Oh my God.” I gasped out between boughs of laughter, “We so have to do that again!”

He looked at me and smiled, but there was something different in this smile. Maybe it was the way his eyes really held emotion, and the way his smile lit up his whole face.

I just knew: he was smiling—a real smile—at me.