Haven't I Been Here Before?

The entire way there he talked about himself. Who he was meeting, how important he was. It was like he was insecure and wanted me to reassure him that he was full of amazingness. Well I wasn’t the girl for that. Halfway there his little conversation I zoned out. Every once in a while I’d throw in a “yeah,” or an “oh, really?” but I wasn’t listening at all. The man was truly full of himself.

--

“Here we are,” he said, after what felt like an eternity of filler conversation. He pulled up to this ‘fab little Italian restaurant’. As expected it was immensely grand and over the top. I had a feeling that there wouldn’t be one simple thing on the menu for a person as picky as me to like. I consider an Italian restaurant good if the bread rocks my world and they can throw together good spaghetti or chicken parmesan. From the look of the place I could tell that anything I ordered would come with a funny sauce that would just completely ruin my appetite.

I sighed; I knew this was a horrible idea. And once again Ryan failed to come over to my side and open the car door for me. I thought about refusing to get out of the car until he came around and did the gentlemanly thing, but I figured that would be childish and he was enough of that for the both of us.

--

The lighting was dim and even though it was lunchtime it felt like dinner. There was fake ivy up all of the walls and candles on every table. The place was pretty crowded but it wasn’t loud at all. I don’t trust places like that, they make me feel like I should whisper because my “inside voice” is just to damn loud for all the fancy people’s delicate ears or something. I did, however, love the entire coloring of the place. I have a soft spot for beautiful rustic colors.

Ryan was seated in front of me, daintily looking over a menu. I took a deep breath and reminded myself to be at least sarcastically nice threw ought the whole thing. I didn’t want to come off as a bitch, even though that’s really where my frame of mind had strayed.

“So, what do you think?” Ryan asked me suddenly, putting down the menu.

“Uhm, well, it’s really nice,” I told him, smiling.

“Do you already know what you want?” I hadn’t even picked up the menu yet. I was sort of dreading it.

You see, I have this theory that if you keep your expectations low then you never have to worry about being disappointed. I didn’t want to get disappointed if the only thing I liked on the menu came from the children’s section.

“No, why? Do you know something I might like?” I asked.

“Well how about I order for you and surprise you?” I was absolutely horrified by the suggestion.

“No, definably not,” I told him sternly.

“What, you don’t trust me to order for you?” He gave me a sly grin.

“Ryan, frankly I don’t believe that you remember jack squat about me,” I said, speaking my mind.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes, it is. For example: what is my favorite color?” Part of me wanted him to get it wrong and another part of me wanted him to get it right; to remember.

“Red,” He said, knowing he was correct. That one part of me did a happy dance, and the other just couldn’t let it go.

“Okay, fine,” I said, determination in my voice. “What was my favorite book that we had to read in English class that everyone made fun of me for actually liking?”

His smile went away and his forehead crinkled up like it does when he’s concentrating on something really hard. Then it was like a light bulb went off and now all of me couldn’t help but rejoice that he remembered. Why is it that when a guy does something as simple as remember something that he already should know we women get happy?

“Romeo and Juliet,” he said, “I remember because I couldn’t make any sense out of the whole thing and you had to explain every line to me.” He leaned in across the table and I caught a devious glint in his eyes, “now you have to let me pick your lunch.”

“Oh, come on Ryan, anything but that!” I was sorry that I had picked the fight with him.

“No, you know that you cannot deny that I remember everything about you,” he said, cocky.

“Oh, whatever. Two things, two simple things, you can’t exactly right a book,” I told him, righteous in my determination to order something on my own.

Suddenly he laughed. It was a disturbingly familiar laugh that made goose bumps form on my arms. It was a laugh that I didn’t know I’d missed until it happened, a laugh I was suddenly aching to hear again. I wanted to kick myself and Kali for letting me go on this stupid lunch thing with him. It was a bad idea.

“Do you never not argue about anything?” he asked.

“Well, if you knew me like you say you do, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

“Okay, you win, order what you want, don’t let me influence me at all,” he said. And I didn’t like the way he said it, like he knew something I didn’t know.

“Good, hand over the menu.” He handed it over to me and as soon as I looked at it I knew what he ment. The whole blasted thing was in friggin Italian.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure I know you well enough to know you don’t speak Italian.” I wanted to beat him over the head with the menu.

“Fine, whatever, order for me what you’d like, but keep in mind that if I don’t like it, I’m not going to eat it,” I told him stubbornly.

“Deal,” he said.

--

Our waitress (who I had a new respect for considering I was now one as well and knew the horror’s of the business) finally brought out our food and I have to admit that I was pretty excited for it. I wanted to know if Ryan could have actually picked out something that I liked, a feat that would’ve deserved major kudos.

“Manicotti formaggio for you,” she said placing a plate of mouthwatering food in front of me, “and Pollo Giardino for you,” she finished, placing Ryan’s food in front of him. I have to say, mine looked way better.

In (almost) shame I gave Ryan praise for ordering me the most amazing, and I’m sure expensive, food I’d ever put in my mouth. I tried to eat it without devouring the thing whole, but between my hunger and the smell I couldn’t help but look like a pig. In fact, I was so busy eating that Ryan and I didn’t have any sort of conversation (and I mean, he didn’t even talk about himself to me, amazing!) until we were about finished with our food.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to try and start some sort of conversation a busty blonde came bouncing up.

“Ryan, baby, where have you been?” She said and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. She had one of those extremely annoying high-pitched voices that continuously grated on your nerves until you explode.

“Hey, Candy!” he said, genially happy to see her. It was sickening. I didn’t even know the woman and I already didn’t like her. She was in skintight white from head to toe. White headband, shirt, skirt, shoes, everything. I was sure that just sitting by her was making me look dirty in comparison.

They talked for a while, completely ignoring me and really ticking me off. Then suddenly Ryan’s light bulb went off again and he remembered to introduce me.

“Candy, this is an old friend, Laney Allen. Laney, this is my ex-fiancé, Candy Lewis,” he said, formally. I did a double take of the woman, looking her over in a whole new light.

I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want this plastic hoe! And I mean plastic, so much so that when she walks, or jumps, or says anything enthusiastically her boobs don’t even move! I normally wouldn’t notice such a thing, but the shirt was so tight that, on me at least, every little movement would’ve been emphasized. Not on Candy.

Suddenly Ryan jumped up,“Oh damn, Laney, I’m late for a band thing with the guys!” he said, hurrying out of the booth we were in. I stood up, way past read to go.

“No, Laney, I mean really late,” he said motioning for me to stay put. “Your going to need to find a ride home, Kali’s place is out of my way.” He was putting on his jacket and my jaw almost hit the floor at his ridiculous statement, had he even noticed the shoes I was wearing?

“Can you pick up the bill too? I’ve really got to run.” The worst thing was that after he said it, Candy laughed.

Ryan was about to walk out of the door, not even waiting for an answer to the ‘pay the bill’ question, which, by the way, was most certainly not, before I stopped him.

“I don’t know what your problem is with not paying bill’s but you are sure as hell not sticking me with this one. For one I don’t have any money with me and for two, that would be just plain ignorant.” I was pissed.

“Oh, I’m sure you could wash dishes to make up for it,” Candy said, giggling.

I looked at her, “why the hell are you still here anyway?” I asked. She threw me a dirty look, but shut up.

“Laney, I’ve got to go. You deal with it.”

His words echoed in my mind. "You deal with it", I repeated the stupidity of them over and over in my head. That was it. I wasn’t dealing with this bull anymore.