Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(12)

Sebastian laughs. “Wow. You sound just like Sander.”

“Did you and Sander get along growing up?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I was always jealous of Sander because his parents were awesome. Not that my parents weren’t. They loved me, but they tried to control me.”

“I can see that you’re not the kind of guy who can be controlled,” I say.

“Nope,” he says.

Sebastian pulls the car into a steakhouse that has a half full parking lot. It’s two in the afternoon, so it’s pretty crowded considering the time.

The outside of the steakhouse doesn’t look like your average chain restaurant. It’s got wood siding, making it look rustic. There is a huge mannequin bull that is up on a tall pole. At the top, it spins around in a circle. It’s a nice touch.

We walk inside and up to a hostess desk. We tell the girl that there are two of us and she walks us to a booth. On the way there, I notice there are peanut shells on the wood floors. There are tables set up in the middle and booths at the side. She sits us down in the booth with some menus and tells us that the waitress will be right with us.

“This is cool,” I say, looking around the place. There are a few people sitting nearby, but nobody is close enough to hear our conversation.

Below my feet I can feel the crunch of the peanut shells. I’m glad for the moment that I’m not wearing flip flops, because my feet would feel so dirty on this floor. But I still like it. The tables are made of wood, like everything else in this place. Even the salt and pepper shakers are in the shape of a cowboy boot. I pick one up to look at it.

“You’re amazed by everything, aren’t you?” Sebastian asks.

“Sorry,” I say, putting it back.

“Don’t be sorry. I like it. I’ve done so much that sometimes I forget what it was like when I experienced them for the first time,” he says.

“I haven’t eaten out a lot,” I admit to him. I’m sure he can tell anyway. “Like, on this trip is the most I’ve ever eaten at places other than home. It’s kind of fun. You just get to sit here while other people cook you food, and other people have to clean it afterwards. It's nice.”

“You cook?” he asks.

I nod. “I was the cook for my family.”

And the maid.

And everything else.

A blonde girl walks up to us. She has her hair in a high pony tail on top of her head and it swings back and forth for a few seconds when she stops in front of the tables.

“What can I get y’all to drink?” she asks. Her southern accent is thick.

Sebastian looks at me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“You have to choose,” he says. “What’s your favorite thing to drink?”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “I’ve mostly had water. I had a Dr. Pepper a few times lately, but that’s it.”

“She wants one of everything,” Bass tells the waitress. “And I want Coke.”

“Okay,” the girl says, not thinking that Bass’s request is strange at all. She walks off, her hair swishing behind her.

“Bass, you can’t just order one of everything,” I say.

“I just did,” he says. “So, apparently I can.”

“Ugh,” I groan, putting my head down on the table. The guys at Spy School are so stubborn, and Bass might just be the most stubborn of all. “Maybe next time we can experiment when we're not at a restaurant. Everybody is going to look at me like I'm crazy.”

“Well, you are a little crazy,” he says.

And that is what every girl wants to hear about herself.

“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.

Sebastian looks up at me. “Wow. So, you are a girl after all.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you don’t act like a normal girl,” he says.

“I’m not normal. Apparently my dad runs a super-secret government agency,” I say.

“I mean... even the girls at Spy School have normal girl reactions. You don’t. I swear, sometimes you like it when I’m mean to you,” he says. “But you reacted pretty normally just then. Rolling your eyes at me. It was cute.”

“At first, I did like the fact that you didn’t like me. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be allowed to socialize with people. I thought it was cool that I had found my first enemy. Well, I was your enemy. You weren’t mine.”

“Trust me, Serenity. We were never enemies.”

“But, I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t particularly like anybody,” he says. “But you were okay.”

“I was okay?” I ask.

“Then,” he says. “I thought you were okay when I met you.” He pauses. “Okay, that’s a lie. When I met you in the classroom I assumed you were spoiled. But later, when I was training you, I changed my mind.”

“That class was when I decided that I definitely like you,” I tell him.

“And what do you think now that you’ve spent two days in the car with me?”

I tap my chin and pretend to think. “I think you’ve got a great sense of humor. You have a lead foot and you only drive with one hand, which seems a little scary, but you do it well. Actually, you do everything well. You can tell two seconds after meeting somebody what kind of person they are, which I envy. You’re not bad to look at either.”