The restaurant we go to is a Mexican place.
"I used to come here during my training years. Now, I rarely come here, but it remains my favorite," Lloyd says.
I am glad we are not at a fancy place. I think he figured I would not like that, so he has brought me here. Fancy places have those fancy foods that are so little and so hard to eat. You do not know what you are supposed to eat and what you are not supposed to touch when you are served all those weird looking dishes. One time, my brother and I went to a five-star restaurant and we were served something that looked like cake, but was actually napkin. Teddy bit into it.
We ordered tacos and chips and guacamole. You might think it is not the right kind of food for a first date. But really, I do not care. I love tacos and Lloyd is not the type to go for traditional ways of doing things.
"Your suit is so out of place," I observe.
"I noticed."
"People are staring."
"Do you mind that?"
I almost shrug again, before remembering about my sore arm. "I am an investigating reporter. I do not want attention usually."
"I don't either. But today, I am trying something different."
"To impress me?"
He laughs. "Am I succeeding?"
"You would, if you did not like The Catcher In The Rye." He told me during our ride that he likes The Catcher In The Rye. I do not.
"I think it's nice for a coming-of-age story."
"Nice is not the way you would describe this book," I say. I actually enjoyed reading this at the beginning. But then, the narrator started using the word 'phony' so many times that I developed a profound distaste for the word.
"And you like Lord Of The Flies. I say, we are even."
"A lot of people say Lord Of The Flies is boring, but I think it is pretty good. I hated the part where Piggy died though. I liked him," I say.
"His name is not really Piggy, you know."
"Yes, but everyone calls him Piggy. I don't think his real name was mentioned at all."
We talk about books a lot. Even after our dishes arrive, we keep talking about books. He laughs when I say my all-time favorite series is Harry Potter, although it is not a mockery laugh.
Harry Potter is an important part of my life. As long as I live (which I do not think will be very long), the Harry Potter series will have the best place in my heart. I was at my worst when I picked up Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone. I was suicidal and depressed. Harry Potter made me find my love for both reading and writing and I got out of the suicidal phase for the time being, if not the depressed phase. I have chronic depression. I will never get out of the grasps of it.
"What do you think about Jane Austen?" I ask. I cannot believe I am engaging so actively in a conversation with someone that is not my inner self.
"I like Persuasion. It feels the most mature," Lloyd says.
"You are quite well-read, aren't you?" I murmur. "I love Pride And Prejudice. A common choice, isn't it? But I love it, nonetheless. I am quite crazy about Mr. Darcy."
"He is the type of man you like?"
"Yeah."
"Physical wise or personality wise?"
"I don't know. Both, I think."
"Shit, I am blond."
I smile. Am I really smiling? Gosh, I might really like him. "I quite like the way you look."
Lloyd smirks. "Just that?"
I do not say anything. He seems to know what I am thinking anyway, so he does not press me for an answer. He orders a beer and I get plain water.
"You cannot handle alcohol or do you not like alcohol?"
"I drank once. I could handle it well enough, but it made me feel terrible," I say. The memory of me bending over the toilet and vomiting and then dry heaving when I had nothing left to throw up after drinking only two glasses of wine is still fresh in my mind. I do not want to feel that way ever again. It was worse than dying, I am sure. Not that I ever got close to dying. I got shot, sure. But I was not going to die. I contemplated death many times over the last eight years. I went as close as holding a blade against my wrist. But that was it. I could not do anything. I cut myself many times, just not at the right place and just not deep enough. "My brother is a good drinker." Teddy knows all the names of the drinks that I have never even heard of.
It has been a long time since I met Teddy. He does not know I got shot. He is in the army, after all. He was not in the list of emergency contacts on my phone. Harry is. In my defense, Harry is closer to where I always am than Teddy could ever be.
We are done eating. I am not a waster. I have to finish everything on my plate or I feel terrible. I am full, but I finish the last taco.
"I will give you a few options now, Ms. Bourn," he says. "One- the classic."
"The movie, you mean?" I ask, but it is not really a question.
"Yes. And two- the romantic."
"Hmm, let me guess. Amusement park?"
"Right," he nods and smiles. "And third option is something calming."
"Please, Lloyd. You mean a walk in the park," I say.
"Really, you know everything, don't you?"
"I'm a good guesser." In my line of work, you have to be a good guesser.
"I have seen that," he says. "But you haven't heard the fourth choice."
I know what he means. Even before he says it, I know.
"My place."