Slide My Tongue Across Your Bottom Lip & Bite Down

As the boys rolled up at "the diner", they groaned half-heartedly. To be modest, the place was packed - that would be a pain in the ass trying to get timely service, but it was great to be so surrounded by everyone. Thought it got quite claustrophobic, it was a rather big restaurant, but that advantage was dimmed when the early-comers snagged a booth for six and adjusted it to accustom ten halfway through the meal.

John made small-talk with his peers as they stood in the line to approach the hostess, making conversation about the game and how "crushed" the opposing team was. By some miracle, the group got a booth all to themselves after only a ten-minute wait. Just as they were seated, John spotted a familiar dumb-founded football player and blonde he would've spotted from a mile away. He called out to them and beckoned them over as he saw Gemma face-palm herself and Brad frown. She brightened when she saw him offering them a seat and bounded over, Bradley following suit after he figured out what was going on.

"Thank God for you, John, I have no patience whatsoever." He grinned confidently.

"We'll just say you owe me one," he promised, and he caught a certain gleam in her eye that he couldn't place before it was gone. He opened his mouth to say something, but a waitress saved him from saying Lord knows what.

"How're you guys doing tonight?" She gave no time for them to answer. "I'm Rachel and I'll be your server today, can I start you guys off with anything? How about some more menus?" She inquired, clearly taking in the fact that the customers had not started off with the same amount of people. Gemma shook her head.

"We can share," she said with a glance around the table, as if asking for approval. Everyone nodded and the waitress did too.

"Alright, what can I get you guys to drink?" Everyone gave their drink orders, Brad taking the longest as he finally decided on a Coke. John let his eyes rove over the menu, even though he knew it by heart.

"Can we share?" She asked him. He looked up at her and could see nothing but her big brown eyes with her eyebrows raised.

"Uhm, sure. Does Brad want to?" She swatted the question away with a gesture of her hand, reading the menu.

"He orders the same thing every time we come here. Come to think of it, I do too," she shot a quick look at him. "But I'm going to waste your time stealing your menu anyway," she said, focusing back on the menu and angling it so it faced her and John couldn't see the contents. He tired to glare but it was diminished by the sheepish grin growing on his face as he plucked the menu out of her hand.

"I don't think so," he said haughtily. He was a little taken aback at how at ease she was with a guy she'd never talked to before. It wasn't like most girls. She narrowed her eyes at him for a brief moment, yet then shrugged and turned to Brad.

"Bradley, honey, are you okay?" She asked. Brad hadn't uttered a word except for his drink order, and was staring intently at the table top. He grunted in response. Gemma paused for a minute, then mouthed an "oh" as she realized he was out of place. The football team usually did a whole recap of the game during the after-dinner, yet he had no one to discuss with now. "The entire team is still here, taking up all those tables," she nodded in the direction of the loud football players, all roaring with laughter and loud commentary. "I'll stay here and bring you your drink when it comes and just order over there." He smiled a thank you at her, ruffling her hair before he left. She grimaced and tried to smooth it back, eventually just sliding her bow and ponytail out and shaking her long, straightened blonde hair around her. Jared stared in curiosity as she hardly reacted to the less-than-affectionate goodbye she'd received.

"You know, I never feel the same if I eat at this place in a different location," she said, staring at the surrounding Johnny Rockets. A small smile crept on her lips, unable to stop. Her mom had told her stories of when all her small high school would hit "the diner" after all their football games in her day, and it was adorable that her own high school resided in the familiar 50's-style diner after games as well. Pat nodded from across the booth.

"I know what you mean. It's not the same without a loud, annoying crowd here," he agreed loudly over the buzz of conversation issuing from inside the restaurant. She smiled and nodded.

"So tell me, blondie, why have I yet to meet you?" John asked as he stretched his arm casually over the booth, facing a little towards her. She shrugged again.

"We've been in school together since I was in first grade, but I'm a year younger." John nodded. Some of the sophomores were well-known, just not as much as the juniors - which John was. But Gemma should have been the exception. She was so relaxed, so pretty . . . So Brad's girlfriend. That should have upped her status, yet then again, she could just be the flavor of the week. John caught himself staring a little too long as she ran her hand through the her hair, her fingers raking it over her shoulder. He caught a whiff of vanilla as her hair brushed his face on the way back.

"Alright, well then give me a great explanation for this - what is a girl like you doing with a girl like Brad?" She didn't scoff or even shrug again, she just smiled sweetly.

"He's the only guy that knows my name and isn't a horndog. He can be really sweet at times," she noted.

"And that's enough for you?" John knew he should have bitten his tongue, but it just spilled out. She didn't seem to mind.

"No, actually. He's a great guy but we have too friendly of a relationship to really be in one." John sat up a little straighter.

"So you're ending it?" She shook her head.

"God, no. He keeps a lot of douche bags off me. So to the public, we're dating. To us, we're friends with benefits . . . Of looking out for each other." She looked straight into John's eyes and winked. "Keep my dirty little secret?" He narrowed his eyes and stroked a fake beard thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I dunno, because that's just so much to blackmail you with . . . A scandalous safe relationship. Way better than raunchy pictures or a secret alter ego as a stripper," he said sarcastically. She laughed and nudged his ribs with her elbow. He didn't budge.

"Hush!" She said. The waitress finally returned with their drinks and as she set down Gemma's Coke and chocolate milkshake, Gemma told her about Brad's seating adjustment. Everyone gave their orders and Kennedy looked curiously at Gemma.

"Why did you order both a soda and a milkshake?" He asked bluntly.

"Because this tastes good," she pointed to the milkshake, "And this actually quenches your thirst." Garrett's eyes widened.

"Genius!" He blurted out. "You just solved the crucial dilemma of ordering a delicious milkshake yet being thirsty as you drink it!" He exclaimed excitedly. She laughed and shook her head.

"I'm not the first one to think of it, hon."

The rest of the dinner went over smoothly - or, as smoothly as five guys like the featured and a cheerleader's dinner in the middle of an absolutely hectic post-football game crowd can go.

After Gemma and John argued over her bill and finally agreed on letting John pay, the gang grabbed Brad and walked out. Brad was talking Pat's bored ear off about the game, still riled up. As they reached their cars, Gemma turned to John and shivered slightly in the cool fall air.

"Thank you for the meal, John," she said as her eyes shone with the stars peaking out above. Her abdomen curved in his direction and touched the top of his bicep, one side of her mouth tugged barely upward in the ghost of a half-smile. She let her arm slide firmly down his as she turned and buckled herself into the passenger's seat of Brad's car, looking perfectly content.

John froze and didn't move for a few seconds, finally shoving his hands in his pockets and sighing deeply. He spent the car ride home staring out the window thinking of how flirtatious Gemma's body language had been yet how natural and unnoticeable it had been to her.