White Rabbit, chapter 3
*Olive's POV*
I slipped on a pair of brown flats to go with the green dress I was wearing. An olive green dress, actually. I had a brown, crocheted scarf around my neck, and a brown belt around my hips. Most of my clothes were earthy tones. I don't see why Ruby thinks it's stupid that almost all of my clothes are the same colors. I mean, if all my clothes are the same colors then I won't have to worry about matching.
Mike called me a minute ago, because he forgot to ask me where I lived. He also said to wear comfy shoes, because he heard there was gonna be a meteor shower tonight, and the beach would be the best place to watch it from.
I donned my thick-rimmed glasses, and slipped on my green headband. Ruby stood behind me with a smug look on her face.
"Livvy, he's gonna think you're wearing the same clothes as the last time you saw him. You need to wear some real color. I mean it."
I sighed and turned around. Ruby was in one of her self-righteous moods again.
"Rubes, please don't call me Livvy. You know I hate that name."
"Yeah yeah. Whatever gets you to listen to me. As I was saying, I think it's time you embrace neon. I mean it sis. Nothing wrong with a little flash."
"Flash? No thanks Ruby. I'm no superstar."
"Well you just might be someday! I mean, hello! You're dating a rock star!"
I rolled my eyes.
"Ruby, this is our first date! Don't go jumping to conclusions. If it doesn't work out between him and me then you'll get pissed at me for breaking up a relationship that never even existed."
Ruby stomped off in a huff as the buzzer rang. Mike had arrived.
I quickly checked my makeup, and then headed downstairs to where Mike was waiting. I opened the door, and he was waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey Olive. You look really nice," he said with a smile. See? I don't need flashy colors to look nice.
"Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself," I said, closing the door behind me. And I meant what I said. This guy looked really good. He was wearing a Jefferson Airplane shirt under a black and white pinstriped blazer, and had matching pants. His dark brown hair was messily styled, but looked rugged in a way. And those blue eyes of his...
Mike laughed at my comment and took me to his car. His BMW car, for your information.
"Hop in," he said, opening the car door.
I slid into the passenger seat, and he closed the door. He walked around to the other side and got in. The car was already running, so he pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road to where this restaurant was.
"So, what did you do today?" Mike asked, turning the volume on the cd player down a couple notches.
"Well I worked most of the day. I was at the till. There's really been a high demand for this new record of yours."
"Yeah, I'm pretty pleased with it. It's not doing as well as our last album Dookie, but then again, Dookie was bigger than I had ever imagined."
"Dookie... sounds familiar. I recall hearing something about it on TV."
"Yeah, we got a Grammy for it."
A Grammy? Oh my gosh... this guy was bigger than I thought.
"Really? A Grammy? That's really cool. I'd like to be in the music business, but I have the store to look after. Meghan and Ruby would be up to their ears in trouble if they didn't have me to look after them." I laughed. I was like a second mom for them.
"Wait, so you want to be a musician? 'Cause I mean, you could totally make it. You could be a guitarist in a band. I mean, you could get someone else to run The White Rabbit."
"I... I really couldn't. I'd feel guilty leaving Meghan and Ruby. I couldn't. And plus, I've put so much work into our store. I couldn't bring myself to do it."
Mike smiled and nodded his head.
"I understand. It's cool that you watch out for your sister and your friend like that."
"Well, I tend to be a bit of a worrier. A mother hen almost. But there's nothing wrong with that."
"That's true. So uh, here's a question. Which artists, other than Janis Joplin are you into?"
"Huh... that's a good question. Well, I don't prefer any genres over any other ones. I like everything. But artists and bands... there's a long list. I have a big CD collection. I have a liking for Jefferson Airplane, Bob Marley, Eric Clapton, The Who... and I like a bunch of 70's punk bands. Clash, Ramones and stuff."
"Really? You like them? That's awesome. I didn't think you'd be into punk."
"Hey, like I said, I like every genre. Wait... I don't like techno."
Mike laughed and nodded his head.
"I have to agree with you on that one. Techno isn't my scene."
Mike and I continued to talk about music and stuff. The topic of family was brought up, and he mentioned that he was adopted, and he has a sister named Myla.
"Really? That's cool. I've got Ruby, my little sister, and I also have an older brother named Jimi. He's a painter."
"A painter? You mean like, someone who paints houses or someone who paints paintings."
"Paintings. He and I are both good in art. My sister isn't very good though."
"So, do you paint?"
"Yeah. There are a couple of my paintings in my apartment."
"That's cool. I'd like to see them sometime."
Mike pulled into the lot of the restaurant and we exited the car. He led me to the doorway and we entered. A man in a black suit greeted us.
"Good evening sir. Do you have reservations?"
"Yes, under Pritchard."
The man looked at the little book rested on his dais.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Pritchard. Right this way sir," the man said. He led us across the restaurant to the patio that faced the beach. A table right in the center of the deck had a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Y'know, those tall skinny fancy glasses that tall skinny fancy people drink from. This place was pretty regal. This was a big difference from eating ramen and drinking pic-a-pop on my apartment sofa with Ruby and Meghan.
"Oh wow. Mike, this is so refined."
"Eh, you deserve it. You work hard," Mike said as we sat down at the table. The waiter handed us two menus and poured the champagne into the glasses.
"I will be right back with your orders," he said. He turned on his heel and left, and I turned to Mike.
"Yeah, the girl who falls asleep at the cash register works real hard." I laughed. Mike laughed too.
"So, have you always lived in San Fran?"
"Uh, no I haven't. I was born in Canada with Ruby, Jimi, and my parents. They divorced when I was seven, and eight years later I moved here with my mom and my siblings. My dad moved to the Caribbean."
"I know what that whole divorce thing is like. My parents divorced when I was a kid. I kind of went back and forth to their houses. Eventually I got sick of it and moved in with Billie Joe."
"Oh man, I had to go back and forth to my parents' places all the time. It was kind of suckish. But I think they were better off apart. They were still good friends after the split."
"Oh, that's good," Mike said, looking at the menu. I did as well. In a matter of seconds Mike put down the menu.
"'Kay, I know what I want."
I laughed. He made his decision rather quickly.
"You've been here a few times already I presume?"
"Uh, yeah. I like it here a lot. Plus, I know one of the waitresses here."
"Really?"
"Yeah, her name's Anastasia."
"Cool."
Suddenly, I heard a voice from behind us.
"Mike?"
"Anastasia?" Mike said looking at the girl who had just called out his name. She had just placed a few menus on the table of one of the other couples here.
"Hey, Mike! It's been a long time. You haven't been here for a while."
"Yeah, I was touring for while. Oh, I forgot. Ana, this is Olive."
"Hi," she said, putting out her hand. I shook it. She had a really firm grip. It almost seemed as if she was pissed off. She shook it briskly, and looked at me with eyes that looked like she was trying to shoot laser beams out of them. But she smiled nonetheless; I could sense a slight tension. I can always tell when people are faking a smile.
"Hi."
"Well I have to go you two. Orders to take, food to deliver, the whole shebang."
Mike laughed at her comment. I did as well, but only because I'd feel weird if I sat and scrunched up my eyebrows. Shebang? I don't get that word.
"Alright. See you later Ana."
"Bye Mike, Olive."
I slipped on a pair of brown flats to go with the green dress I was wearing. An olive green dress, actually. I had a brown, crocheted scarf around my neck, and a brown belt around my hips. Most of my clothes were earthy tones. I don't see why Ruby thinks it's stupid that almost all of my clothes are the same colors. I mean, if all my clothes are the same colors then I won't have to worry about matching.
Mike called me a minute ago, because he forgot to ask me where I lived. He also said to wear comfy shoes, because he heard there was gonna be a meteor shower tonight, and the beach would be the best place to watch it from.
I donned my thick-rimmed glasses, and slipped on my green headband. Ruby stood behind me with a smug look on her face.
"Livvy, he's gonna think you're wearing the same clothes as the last time you saw him. You need to wear some real color. I mean it."
I sighed and turned around. Ruby was in one of her self-righteous moods again.
"Rubes, please don't call me Livvy. You know I hate that name."
"Yeah yeah. Whatever gets you to listen to me. As I was saying, I think it's time you embrace neon. I mean it sis. Nothing wrong with a little flash."
"Flash? No thanks Ruby. I'm no superstar."
"Well you just might be someday! I mean, hello! You're dating a rock star!"
I rolled my eyes.
"Ruby, this is our first date! Don't go jumping to conclusions. If it doesn't work out between him and me then you'll get pissed at me for breaking up a relationship that never even existed."
Ruby stomped off in a huff as the buzzer rang. Mike had arrived.
I quickly checked my makeup, and then headed downstairs to where Mike was waiting. I opened the door, and he was waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey Olive. You look really nice," he said with a smile. See? I don't need flashy colors to look nice.
"Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself," I said, closing the door behind me. And I meant what I said. This guy looked really good. He was wearing a Jefferson Airplane shirt under a black and white pinstriped blazer, and had matching pants. His dark brown hair was messily styled, but looked rugged in a way. And those blue eyes of his...
Mike laughed at my comment and took me to his car. His BMW car, for your information.
"Hop in," he said, opening the car door.
I slid into the passenger seat, and he closed the door. He walked around to the other side and got in. The car was already running, so he pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road to where this restaurant was.
"So, what did you do today?" Mike asked, turning the volume on the cd player down a couple notches.
"Well I worked most of the day. I was at the till. There's really been a high demand for this new record of yours."
"Yeah, I'm pretty pleased with it. It's not doing as well as our last album Dookie, but then again, Dookie was bigger than I had ever imagined."
"Dookie... sounds familiar. I recall hearing something about it on TV."
"Yeah, we got a Grammy for it."
A Grammy? Oh my gosh... this guy was bigger than I thought.
"Really? A Grammy? That's really cool. I'd like to be in the music business, but I have the store to look after. Meghan and Ruby would be up to their ears in trouble if they didn't have me to look after them." I laughed. I was like a second mom for them.
"Wait, so you want to be a musician? 'Cause I mean, you could totally make it. You could be a guitarist in a band. I mean, you could get someone else to run The White Rabbit."
"I... I really couldn't. I'd feel guilty leaving Meghan and Ruby. I couldn't. And plus, I've put so much work into our store. I couldn't bring myself to do it."
Mike smiled and nodded his head.
"I understand. It's cool that you watch out for your sister and your friend like that."
"Well, I tend to be a bit of a worrier. A mother hen almost. But there's nothing wrong with that."
"That's true. So uh, here's a question. Which artists, other than Janis Joplin are you into?"
"Huh... that's a good question. Well, I don't prefer any genres over any other ones. I like everything. But artists and bands... there's a long list. I have a big CD collection. I have a liking for Jefferson Airplane, Bob Marley, Eric Clapton, The Who... and I like a bunch of 70's punk bands. Clash, Ramones and stuff."
"Really? You like them? That's awesome. I didn't think you'd be into punk."
"Hey, like I said, I like every genre. Wait... I don't like techno."
Mike laughed and nodded his head.
"I have to agree with you on that one. Techno isn't my scene."
Mike and I continued to talk about music and stuff. The topic of family was brought up, and he mentioned that he was adopted, and he has a sister named Myla.
"Really? That's cool. I've got Ruby, my little sister, and I also have an older brother named Jimi. He's a painter."
"A painter? You mean like, someone who paints houses or someone who paints paintings."
"Paintings. He and I are both good in art. My sister isn't very good though."
"So, do you paint?"
"Yeah. There are a couple of my paintings in my apartment."
"That's cool. I'd like to see them sometime."
Mike pulled into the lot of the restaurant and we exited the car. He led me to the doorway and we entered. A man in a black suit greeted us.
"Good evening sir. Do you have reservations?"
"Yes, under Pritchard."
The man looked at the little book rested on his dais.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Pritchard. Right this way sir," the man said. He led us across the restaurant to the patio that faced the beach. A table right in the center of the deck had a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Y'know, those tall skinny fancy glasses that tall skinny fancy people drink from. This place was pretty regal. This was a big difference from eating ramen and drinking pic-a-pop on my apartment sofa with Ruby and Meghan.
"Oh wow. Mike, this is so refined."
"Eh, you deserve it. You work hard," Mike said as we sat down at the table. The waiter handed us two menus and poured the champagne into the glasses.
"I will be right back with your orders," he said. He turned on his heel and left, and I turned to Mike.
"Yeah, the girl who falls asleep at the cash register works real hard." I laughed. Mike laughed too.
"So, have you always lived in San Fran?"
"Uh, no I haven't. I was born in Canada with Ruby, Jimi, and my parents. They divorced when I was seven, and eight years later I moved here with my mom and my siblings. My dad moved to the Caribbean."
"I know what that whole divorce thing is like. My parents divorced when I was a kid. I kind of went back and forth to their houses. Eventually I got sick of it and moved in with Billie Joe."
"Oh man, I had to go back and forth to my parents' places all the time. It was kind of suckish. But I think they were better off apart. They were still good friends after the split."
"Oh, that's good," Mike said, looking at the menu. I did as well. In a matter of seconds Mike put down the menu.
"'Kay, I know what I want."
I laughed. He made his decision rather quickly.
"You've been here a few times already I presume?"
"Uh, yeah. I like it here a lot. Plus, I know one of the waitresses here."
"Really?"
"Yeah, her name's Anastasia."
"Cool."
Suddenly, I heard a voice from behind us.
"Mike?"
"Anastasia?" Mike said looking at the girl who had just called out his name. She had just placed a few menus on the table of one of the other couples here.
"Hey, Mike! It's been a long time. You haven't been here for a while."
"Yeah, I was touring for while. Oh, I forgot. Ana, this is Olive."
"Hi," she said, putting out her hand. I shook it. She had a really firm grip. It almost seemed as if she was pissed off. She shook it briskly, and looked at me with eyes that looked like she was trying to shoot laser beams out of them. But she smiled nonetheless; I could sense a slight tension. I can always tell when people are faking a smile.
"Hi."
"Well I have to go you two. Orders to take, food to deliver, the whole shebang."
Mike laughed at her comment. I did as well, but only because I'd feel weird if I sat and scrunched up my eyebrows. Shebang? I don't get that word.
"Alright. See you later Ana."
"Bye Mike, Olive."
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