Castinarro's was even more posh than I had expected.

I met Lucas outside the restaurant. We said hello and had a very awkward hug. He told me I looked beautiful and I pointed to his outfit and gave him a thumbs up. I had dug out a dress from the bottom of my closet. I hadn't even looked at it since we moved here, I didn't even know where it was. It was a floor length blue gown that hugged my waist and trailed down my legs. I had worn it to a wedding back home, and hadn't touched it since. Lucas looked very handsome dressed in a smart button down with plaid trousers and suit jacket draped over his shoulder. His hair was slicked back into a neat quiff, not a hair out of place

I almost felt like a Barbie doll walking into Castinarro's; alongside a gorgeous looking Ken doll. The waiter took us to en empty table and Lucas, very gentlemanly, pulled out my chair for me to sit. The waiter laid down our velvet menus in front of us. Lucas picked his up and started to look at the food.

Picking up the menu, I realised that there was no way I would know what any of this menu said. It was in another language that I did not know how to speak.

I wondered how a teenage boy our age managed to afford the prices on this menu.

Lucas looked at me from over the top of his menu. His eyebrows raised. I placed my menu down in front of me, nearly knocking off the second fork sitting next to my plate. Yes, you read that right, the SECOND fork. This restaurant was that fancy.

Lucas lowered his menu too and started to talk. "What do you want to drink?" instant panic radiated through my body. I hadn't even looked at what I was eating, let alone drinking. My eyes widened and my hands subtly slid over the menu to pull it back open. It looked like Lucas laughed as the menu, again in front of his face, bounced up and down.

Lucas had to order for the both of us. I guess it seemed rude to just point to a menu in a posh restaurant. Lucas started to tell me about this posh non-alcoholic wine they had. I had never heard of it before so had no idea what it was called. I couldn't read it off his lips, and he was talking too fast. So I trusted his judgement and let him choose.

He didn't seem bothered by my lack of decision making. It seemed he was a lot better at this than I was.

That went for the chatting as well. Within the first two courses of dinner, I had learnt all about his friend Harley and how he has a running joke with him about having a wonky eye because he can't throw a football straight. His other friend Mickie (spelt with an i and an e because he wanted to be more 'fashionable') had injured himself and knocked himself out of the game this weekend. He told me about his little sister Lucy and she had just started school, and how proud he was of her.

"Wow, you're a really great listener." He said after telling me the story of the night that he, Mickie and Harley got drunk at a party and woke up all sitting in a trash cart with a stuffed pigeon and a random street sign.

I just shrugged and smiled. Mostly I was a good listener because I didn't talk much, or, you know, at all. Not that he had noticed.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, moving his hand questionable close to my left hand. I trained my eyes to focus on his face, and tried to ignore the dangerous proximity of his hand near mine. I nodded with a small smile.

He cleared his throat and pulled his hand up to his neck. He was fidgeting in his chair. "Why don't you...?" I missed the middle section of the question because he scratched his nose. Typical.

He sat there waiting for me to answer a question I didn't know. His eyebrows scrunched together. My face copied his.

"Why don't you talk that much? Is it just shyness?" He repeated.

I didn't know how to answer that. If I told him then my secret would be out. I already had one too many people knowing my secret. But if I didn't, what would he think of me?

I shrugged one shoulder. My head tilting ever-so-slightly to meet it.

"You can tell me, you know. You don't have to worry about talking with me."

He didn't get it.

In that moment a waiter came over and picked up our finished dessert plates, telling us he'll send someone straight over to give us the check. The waiter had been a small distraction from the question however when he left Lucas went back to staring at me. He wanted me to tell him.

As if my luck couldn't get much worse, the waiter carrying our check came over. Looking up to thank the waiter, I was astounded to see two familiar, green eyes. Staring straight down at me. Correction; staring straight into my eyes.

A sudden wash of vanilla blew over us. The same vanilla scent that was on a leather jacket sitting neatly on my bed.

Hunter.

My eyes looked between his and looking back over at Lucas. For some reason, I felt guilty. Like a child that's just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Lucas either didn't pick up on the awkward tension rising high with each moment, or chose to breeze over it. "Thank you. Do you take American Express card?"

Hunter just nodded, his eyes flicking very quickly between me and Lucas. He was trying to figure out what was going on. He pulled the card reader out of his apron before typing in some numbers and handing it to Lucas. As he looked at Lucas, something flashed in his eyes and his jaw tightened.

Lucas paid for dinner. I tried to protest but he batted my hands away from his and insisted that it's what he was 'supposed to do' to be chivalrous.

Lucas got up to leave, Hunter still stood next to the table looking at me, and I was frozen in my seat

Those green eyes peered into mine and under his gaze, I couldn't move. I looked over Lucas, unable to make any movement.

"Riley, are you coming?" Lucas said, looking at me like I was crazy. He had walked a little while, expecting me to be standing behind him.

As if shaking out the tension, I closed my eyes, shook my head a little and nodded to Lucas. I slowly got up out of my seat. I could see Hunter's eyes raking up my dress. Lucas started to walk off ahead, preparing to open the restaurant door for me.

All I wanted in that moment was for my exit to be as swift as possible, with minimal effort. However, knowing me, I should have known that would never have been possible

The bottom of my dress somehow managed to get caught under the chair and I began to fall. The blue material pulling me down, slowly, to the ground.

Hunter held out his arms and caught me before I managed to hit the ground. His hands wrapped around my arms and held me in place until I got my footing back. Shocks ran through my body where his skin touched mine. It made my arms tremble and didn't exactly help the situation at hand. I tried to ignore it as best I could, after all, I was on date with someone else.

"Are you okay?" He said, bowing down his head to match my height.

I just nodded, gave him a small smile and regained my balance.

Why does my life always have to be so clumsy?

I looked over at Lucas, who hadn't even noticed that I had fallen. He looked back over his left shoulder as I untangled myself from Hunter's arms. I gave Hunter a small nod to say thank you, and he moved to the side to let me cross past him.

I hurriedly made my way over to Lucas, walking through as he opened the door. He smiled at me and shouted something over his shoulder as we left.

And then we were left alone. Walking through the streets together, the awkwardness seemed to flood over us. I didn't know what to do. Seeing Hunter had thrown me for a loop. I no longer knew why I was here.

Lucas, of course, had no idea. Oblivious in his own world, he walked next to me, talking about something I didn't have the brain capacity to watch or understand. This boy could talk for the both of us without ever having trouble, or even stopping for breath.

He walked me all the way home. During the journey he had draped his suit jacket over my shoulders. My nose was filled with the smell of apples and pinewood as we walked down the streets. I was leading him back home.

He held my hand when we were a street away from my house. He grabbed one finger on my right hand and looked up for my approval. I let him hold my hand , feeling slightly weirded out by it. Nobody had held my hand in a while, at least not in a romantic way.

When we approached my house, Lucas spun me around in front of him.

"Hey, I had fun tonight." He said looking into my eyes. His lips moved into a smile as he looked down at our hands. Playing with my fingers, he looked back up at me.

"Did you?" He asked, drawing circles on the palm of my hand.

I didn't know.

I nodded and smiled, telling him what I thought he wanted to know.

I gave him a hug before walking through the door as soon as the door shut, I slid my back down if. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by blue material, trying to figure out how I felt.

Within that moment, Sammy comes walking towards me. He looked at me, being careful not to step on my dress.

"That bad?" He signed, watching to see my reaction. His head tilted to the left. He stood in his pyjamas; a pair of sweats and a tank top. His hair was ruffled like he had been sleeping already.

"What makes you think it was bad?" I signed back, straining my neck to look up to him

"You've slid down the doorway. And you've got that weird look on your face." He signed pointing to his face. He made a sad expression, and then rolled his head forward before coming back up to look at me.

"It was actually a really nice date." I signed. In a way it was, it was nice to have the company. It was just nicer for Lucas.

"Tell me all about it." He signed as he pulled me to my feet and into the living room to the couch. He pulled out a box of chocolates from the coffee table shelf and offed me them as I told him about what happened.

I told him all about Harley and Mickie and how he hadn't stopped talking. I told him all about the fact that he had to order for us. I told Sammy every last detail, even down to the fact that the non-alcoholic wine that he had ordered tasted like liquid cardboard.

"...and he walked me back home holding my hand, and I don't know how I feel about it." I signed, racing through the story. I hadn't told him quite about Hunter, or the reaction it had caused.

"And he asked me why I don't talk. What am I supposed to do with that?! I can't exactly sign the reasons, can I?" I signed, flopping my body back into the couch and covering my face with a cushion. The red material blocks out the rest of the world, and in that moment, I felt like I could go and hide in a corner somewhere and the world could happily swallow me whole.

Sammy pulled the cushion from my face, earning a disgruntled groan from me, as he pulled me up to sit in front of him.

"Do you like the guy?" Sammy signed. Clearly there was no time for sugar coating.

"Yes." I signed. I did. Sure, the guy could talk for a sport, but maybe that's a good thing, especially given my situation. I'll never have to be worried about awkward conversations or silences at least.

"Then why are you stressing?" Sammy hit me upside the head after he had finished signing and started to walk away back up the stairs

I understood that I was in my head about it and being in my head about it won't help me fix the situation.

I like Lucas. I do. And that's all the matters at this minute, right?