So Two Years Ago
Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen:
((Tessa’s POV))
We drove for about 10 minutes, casually chatting. I’d glance out the window from time to time, trying to figure out where he was taking me, and if I’d been in town for more than a handful of days, I probably could’ve guessed.
Various small businesses began to appear here and there on either side of the street, and we soon arrived at a nearly vacant parking lot beside a 24-hour diner. Andy steered into a parking space and turned off the engine.
“So, I see you follow a strict diet of diner food,” I snickered, reaching for the door handle and stepping out of the car as he did the same.
He glanced sideways at me of the roof of the car. “You haven’t got something against diners, have you?”
“No. Who wouldn’t love a place that serves pancakes all day?”
“Good. I mean, I’d hate to end this relationship this soon, but I couldn’t be with a girl who didn’t have a healthy appreciation for cheap coffee and bottomless plates of fries.”
“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I think I’d live on that stuff if I could.”
“Whaddaya mean, ‘if you could’? I already do.”
“Obviously,” I giggled, walking through the door he’d opened for me.
After we entered, we did what the sign by the register told us to do and we seated ourselves at a booth from which I could see the case of pies and cakes. I immediately began to consider which to order.
We were greeted shortly thereafter by a waitress whose nametag read Barb. Andy and I both ordered coffee, and while I “umm-ed” over which slice of cake looked mostly chocolaty, he ordered some french fries-- “The largest order I can get.” I finally forced myself to decide on the French silk pie, so as not to keep the waitress waiting forever.
“Pie? What kind of dinner is that?” Andy teased.
“You’re one to talk, with your enormous plate of fries.”
“Well, I’ve already had a real dinner.”
“Then I guess you won’t mind when I steal some of your fries…?” I hinted with as sweet a grin as I could conjure.
“Hmm…. We’ll have to see about that.”
Thankfully, we weren't kept waiting long; I kept my longing gaze on the case of cakes for most of the time between ordering and eating until the imagined taste of chocolate on my tongue distracted me almost entirely from any conversation Andy was trying to make. Needless to say, I had my fork ready by the time my plate was placed in front of me, and I wasted no time getting started.
There came a snicker from across the table. "Good?"
"Mmhmm," I nodded, grinning childishly and allowing a bite of delicious pie rest on my tongue before swallowing.
I finished before Andy was even halfway through with his fries. What can I say? I was hungry, and that pie was mighty tasty. So, I sipped at a cup of coffee while he continued snacking, one french fry at a time. We casually chatted and occasionally, I'd steal from his plate. Like he was going to eat all of it, anyway, right?
"So, are you nervous about going to work tomorrow? Seeing your boss, again?"
"Well, I wasn't until now."
"Oh, wow, that was a dumb thing for me to say. I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," I grinned reassuringly. "I had just sort of forgotten about all that, to be honest."
"Well, you probably have nothing to worry about. I mean, I bet he's forgotten, too."
"You're right," I nodded, snatching another fry and dipping it in ketchup before taking a bite. "What about you, huh? You seem to have an awful lot of down time for someone who's in such a popular band. I'm beginning to think you guys never work; you just send out decoys to do all that touring and promoting while the real Fall Out Boy sits around playing video games all the time."
"If only!" He chuckled, and I could tell that he was practically fantasizing the very idea. "I guess we have had a bit of free time, lately. We're in between European and US tours, so, yea."
"Oh, really? When do you guys start the US tour?"
"I thought you listened to our music. I mean, shouldn't you be up on all this stuff?" He leaned in with a skeptically raised brow and a lopsided grin.
"My Fall Out Boy tracking skills are slack these days, I guess," I grinned back.
"In that case, I suppose I'll fill you in."
"Thanks for your consideration."
"We're actually starting the tour in New York City in a week."
"A week? Wow, that's... soon."
"Yea. I guess it is. Maybe I should've told you about that sooner. I feel like I'm springing this on you."
"Springing what on me?"
"Well, you're a filmmaker, right?"
"Technically, I'm a secretary to a filmmaker, right now, but not technically, yes."
"Okay, so, would a non-technical filmmaker be interested in documenting a band's upcoming US tour?"
"What?" He had to be pulling my leg; there was no way I could be falling into real work (I mean, the work I really wanted to be doing) this easily.
"We were just talking about filming stuff on this tour for a DVD, and we wanted it to have a more intimate, friendly kind of feel, not just some rehearsed backstage interviews or some bullshit like that. What really happens on tour, you know? So, who better to help us with all the actual filming than someone who is quickly becoming an intimate friend of the band?"
"So, this is for real? You're not just screwing around with me, are you?"
"No way, José."
"Wow."
Wow.
((Tessa’s POV))
We drove for about 10 minutes, casually chatting. I’d glance out the window from time to time, trying to figure out where he was taking me, and if I’d been in town for more than a handful of days, I probably could’ve guessed.
Various small businesses began to appear here and there on either side of the street, and we soon arrived at a nearly vacant parking lot beside a 24-hour diner. Andy steered into a parking space and turned off the engine.
“So, I see you follow a strict diet of diner food,” I snickered, reaching for the door handle and stepping out of the car as he did the same.
He glanced sideways at me of the roof of the car. “You haven’t got something against diners, have you?”
“No. Who wouldn’t love a place that serves pancakes all day?”
“Good. I mean, I’d hate to end this relationship this soon, but I couldn’t be with a girl who didn’t have a healthy appreciation for cheap coffee and bottomless plates of fries.”
“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I think I’d live on that stuff if I could.”
“Whaddaya mean, ‘if you could’? I already do.”
“Obviously,” I giggled, walking through the door he’d opened for me.
After we entered, we did what the sign by the register told us to do and we seated ourselves at a booth from which I could see the case of pies and cakes. I immediately began to consider which to order.
We were greeted shortly thereafter by a waitress whose nametag read Barb. Andy and I both ordered coffee, and while I “umm-ed” over which slice of cake looked mostly chocolaty, he ordered some french fries-- “The largest order I can get.” I finally forced myself to decide on the French silk pie, so as not to keep the waitress waiting forever.
“Pie? What kind of dinner is that?” Andy teased.
“You’re one to talk, with your enormous plate of fries.”
“Well, I’ve already had a real dinner.”
“Then I guess you won’t mind when I steal some of your fries…?” I hinted with as sweet a grin as I could conjure.
“Hmm…. We’ll have to see about that.”
Thankfully, we weren't kept waiting long; I kept my longing gaze on the case of cakes for most of the time between ordering and eating until the imagined taste of chocolate on my tongue distracted me almost entirely from any conversation Andy was trying to make. Needless to say, I had my fork ready by the time my plate was placed in front of me, and I wasted no time getting started.
There came a snicker from across the table. "Good?"
"Mmhmm," I nodded, grinning childishly and allowing a bite of delicious pie rest on my tongue before swallowing.
I finished before Andy was even halfway through with his fries. What can I say? I was hungry, and that pie was mighty tasty. So, I sipped at a cup of coffee while he continued snacking, one french fry at a time. We casually chatted and occasionally, I'd steal from his plate. Like he was going to eat all of it, anyway, right?
"So, are you nervous about going to work tomorrow? Seeing your boss, again?"
"Well, I wasn't until now."
"Oh, wow, that was a dumb thing for me to say. I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," I grinned reassuringly. "I had just sort of forgotten about all that, to be honest."
"Well, you probably have nothing to worry about. I mean, I bet he's forgotten, too."
"You're right," I nodded, snatching another fry and dipping it in ketchup before taking a bite. "What about you, huh? You seem to have an awful lot of down time for someone who's in such a popular band. I'm beginning to think you guys never work; you just send out decoys to do all that touring and promoting while the real Fall Out Boy sits around playing video games all the time."
"If only!" He chuckled, and I could tell that he was practically fantasizing the very idea. "I guess we have had a bit of free time, lately. We're in between European and US tours, so, yea."
"Oh, really? When do you guys start the US tour?"
"I thought you listened to our music. I mean, shouldn't you be up on all this stuff?" He leaned in with a skeptically raised brow and a lopsided grin.
"My Fall Out Boy tracking skills are slack these days, I guess," I grinned back.
"In that case, I suppose I'll fill you in."
"Thanks for your consideration."
"We're actually starting the tour in New York City in a week."
"A week? Wow, that's... soon."
"Yea. I guess it is. Maybe I should've told you about that sooner. I feel like I'm springing this on you."
"Springing what on me?"
"Well, you're a filmmaker, right?"
"Technically, I'm a secretary to a filmmaker, right now, but not technically, yes."
"Okay, so, would a non-technical filmmaker be interested in documenting a band's upcoming US tour?"
"What?" He had to be pulling my leg; there was no way I could be falling into real work (I mean, the work I really wanted to be doing) this easily.
"We were just talking about filming stuff on this tour for a DVD, and we wanted it to have a more intimate, friendly kind of feel, not just some rehearsed backstage interviews or some bullshit like that. What really happens on tour, you know? So, who better to help us with all the actual filming than someone who is quickly becoming an intimate friend of the band?"
"So, this is for real? You're not just screwing around with me, are you?"
"No way, José."
"Wow."
Wow.