Chapter Text
“I have an idea.”
Millie leant her jaw on her knuckles, leaning in both far too intensely and far too close.
“Oh God.”
The glint of the light caught Millie’s lip gloss, and having caught herself staring, Louise refocused her gaze to a crack in the paint on the wall behind. She should have known something was up. Millie had sat down at the table with her a few minutes prior very jauntily, in some kind of strange mood.
“We pretend to be a couple.”
“What purpose could that possibly serve? Why would we ever need to do that?”
“Well, if you’re going to be like that… I will take my business elsewhere.”
“There is no plan, is there? You’re just asking me out in a really bizarre way again.”
Offended, Millie gasped and brought her hands to her chest.
“No. There is a point. For Valentine’s Day, well three days after actually, the youth club are doing a meal for couples at the Italian you like. Set menu, reduced price. We could go halves. Just thought you might be interested, is all.”
That innocent look, like she wasn’t trying to get what she wanted. As if Millie would ever selflessly suggest anything.
“What’s the set menu?”
“A choice of three starters, any pizza, and three desserts. I think you get a drink too. I can’t remember the choices, but I can check. It would be $15 each.”
A pizza and a drink usually cost that alone, and they’re damn good. Despite liking Italian, Louise obviously couldn’t go to Jimmy Pesto’s, and the food there is godawful anyway. She’d usually eat out at this place near the Wharf if she had a spare $20, which wasn’t often. Good food, and the prices are okay for a once in a while treat. Not a bad offer, even with the drawback of Millie being present.
“Since when are you in the youth club?”
“I’m young, why wouldn’t I be?”
Seemed out of character. Millie wasn’t really an ‘extracurriculars’ sort of person. More of a ‘follow you home after school’ sort of person, really. There must be some angle with being a member that Louise couldn’t see.
“Okay, deal. Do I need to sign up, or whatever?”
Millie crossed her legs and looked across the room.
“You don’t need to do anything. Well, you need to give me ten dollars, but otherwise.”
Avoiding eye contact skillfully, Millie looked around the room. As if she would want to watch people getting lunch.
“You already said I would go, didn’t you?”
That explained why Frond had congratulated her on her feelings or something yesterday, and suggested she go to Pride to meet ‘likeminded people’. She’d assumed it was because she’d recently joined the girls football team and exclusively wore basketball shorts, but no, he did actually have more evidence than that. Millie didn’t respond, she just picked at her pink nail polish.
“You’re a bitch, you know that Mills?”
“How am I a bitch for trying to get you a nice dinner at a restaurant you like? I literally did you a favour.”
“You know, Frond told me to go to Pride yesterday because of you.”
Poorly hiding her laugh, Millie covered her face with her hands.
“It’s not my fault he runs the youth group.”
“Why the fuck would he need to run a youth group at a school? We’re all young. It’s a school. That’s the point.”
“Don’t ask me. Anyway, you can give me the money tomorrow. Wear something nice, for once, on the seventeenth. And no, not the shirt you wear to funerals. I’ll happily lend you some stuff if required.”
“Oh fuck off. You think I’d let you dress me? As if I’d want to roll in looking like a unicorn threw up.”
“How very dare you! Fine, look like shit, I don’t even care.”
Millie gave her a low, intense glare while very seriously eating a pot of jelly. In response to an amused smile from Louise, she raised a translucent eyebrow once, chewing threateningly.
“Thanks, I will. Maybe you could consider eyeliner that’s actually straight, and colours that don’t clash for the occasion.”
“My eyeliner is straight, bitch. And when have I ever worn colours that clash? Fuck would you know about the colour wheel? You only wear black anyway. It’s so fucking boring.”
“You’re wearing pink and orange together right now.”
“Orange and pink go together.”
“What, in hell?”
Not her best comeback, but still. Watching Millie clench her jaw, seeing her peach fuzz and freckles along the dull edge, Louise felt quite pleased with herself. It’s so easy to wind Millie up, it almost feels cheap.
“I bet that someone else would love to go on a date with me. Someone who’s not a little bitch with no fashion sense, ideally.”
“So, ask someone else then. I will support you fully in your endeavor. Would be nice for you to stalk someone else for a change.”
“God, I don’t stalk you, and you’d be lucky to have me.”
“Can’t say I feel very fucking lucky,” Louise cracked her knuckles, “So what would you have me wear on our date, oh fashionable one.”
The way Millie’s demeanour could shift so quickly should be studied. From defensive rage to something else, maybe manic excitement, in a second. Animated, joyous, she described the outfit she would put Louise in.
“I think dark greens and brows would suit you better, so most of my wardrobe wouldn’t work, but my dad has some stuff that could. Would be a very loose fit, but that seems to be your thing anyway. Hang on, I took a photo of it laid out on my bed.”
Pulling out her phone, Millie showed unbreakable concentration until she found what she wanted. The colours did pair well, but Louise unsurprisingly preferred her own clothes. Millie’s dad’s wardrobe was severely lacking in checkerboard stripes and sick fucking dragon graphics.
“So you decided what I would wear to the date you decided I was coming on and booked before even asking me. And you aren’t a stalker?”
“How is that stalking? It’s forward planning. What can I say, I’m well organised and goal orientated. You should be impressed.”
“I’m impressed you’ve evaded being picked up by the psych ward, thus far. I might call in an anonymous tip.”
“What kind of monster would try and get her girlfriend sectioned a week before Valentine’s Day?”
“You’re not my girlfriend. And if I get you sectioned, would I not get two meals to myself and an evening of peace and fucking quiet? What exactly is supposed to be the downside?”
Picking up her tray huffily, Millie stood, then stormed off to sit by herself at the furthest diagonal table. Louise ate the remainder of her lunch, amused by the persistent glaring from across the room.