Well, they were here.

"Silly boy," she informed him. No, there was no particular reason for that. She just felt like saying it.

And she didn't even wait for him to open the door, or something. It wasn't a date, after all.

That's too bad, as Keye was about to open the door for her anyway. As it was, his hand shot out and hit...noting at all, because the door was already open. Somebody inside the cafe laughed to themselves about feminism. Well, what did they know. Keye folded his arms and followed Taryn in.

"Sorry."

That was about not realizing that he was about to open the door for her; she is certainly not a rabid feminist and doesn't mind when guys do that. She just didn't notice that he was going to, this time.

"Let's sit over there."

Sure of herself, isn't she.

"That's all right."
There's a tone in his voice of joking reproach: You should know better. Of course I'd open the door for you.
"Sure. Looks good to me."
Anything that's not a cramped little table looks good to him; he has to have somewhere to put his legs.

"'kay."

And of course she leads the way to the table and slides into the seat she wants without waiting for much more than that. Taryn is very sure of herself--if it were a real date, maybe she would be less independent...

Maybe. She kind of likes being in control.

And wait for the server.

Keye wouldn't mind terribly if he ended up in a relationship where the girl wore the pants. He's not a terribly domineering person.
He sits and gives the menu a quick once-over, even though he already knows exactly what he's ordering and exactly how much it will cost (tax and tip included).

Well, if they do end up dating, he'll have to take control once in a while. Taryn likes to be in charge, but she would get bored if she was always the one making all the decisions.

Taryn scans the menu in earnest, trying to decide exactly what kind of hamburger she wants and what sides.

Mmm, chocolate milkshake. Definitely a go with that one.

"I'm ready; you?"

"Absolutely."
He usually is, considering that he has the menu memorized. It's not that he comes here often...he's just like that.

And ordering of the food, etc, etc...

"So." She puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her hands.

"You play chess?"

Well, that was random.

"Yes. Yes I do."
That was uncanny. Or perhaps coincidental.
"Why d'you say that?" he looked down at himself as if expecting to see chess pieces trailing from his pockets.

"Just curious. Also, I sometimes sort of play, and sometimes I'm bored. Like now."

That might explain why she's suddenly doodling something on a napkin. (Or maybe it's just habit; her family tends to play odd games on paper while they wait for food to arrive at restaurants.)

"Play any other board games?"

"What's that Asian one with the black and white pieces? I play that. I forget what it's called, though. And Monopoly."
He leaned forward to inspect what she was drawing.

"I can't remember what it's called either. I never win, but I do know how to play that one. I never win Monopoly, either."

She pushed the napkin partially across the table so he could see. It was a strange little doodle and seemed to involve butterflies and tigers and tall grass. It was mostly just her seeing what random lines would turn into, if she followed their shape, you see.

"You ever heard of that African game with the stones and the cups and things?"

"No, I haven't. Tell me."
He folds his hands under his chin, looking intently at her. He loves board games, especially strategy ones.

"'kay."

She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Can't remember what it's called, but there're six cups on each side and then two bigger cups. One on each end. You start out with four to six pebbles or marbles or whatever in each of the little cups. Then the players take turns picking up the pebbles in one cup and dropping them in the ones after. Always clockwise. The goal is to get the most pieces in your big cup, which's the one on the player's right."

Okay, not so coherent. But she's explaining a game that she doesn't have in front of her. It's kind of hard.

"Mancala!"
It hadn't clicked at first.
"I played that when I was a kid. It's a fun game. I always liked the color of the pebbles."

"I never won that one, either. Only thing I can win is chess, sometimes. And usually only monster chess."

Does he know that version? It's a fun one; she'd be happy to teach him.

"Monster chess?" he grins and the strange sounding name.
"I only play traditional, timers and everything. What's monster chess?"

Grin.

"My dad taught me. So. Black has all of its pieces, right? And all the rules are the same for black. White, on the other hand, has four pawns and the king. But white gets to make two moves at a time. It's fun."

It's also the only version of chess at which she has ever beaten her dad.

"Wow."
That's like opening up whole new realms of strategies...
"I must tell Bo about that."

Grin.

"It's so much fun. It's a real challenge to win if you're black--which I've never managed, at least not against my dad--but it's somuchfun to play as white. And if white gets a queen... bam. It's over."

Because, you see, the queen can move to literally any square on the board in two moves. She's awesome like that.

"True that."
His eyes went upward, and he envisioned the board, combining strategies...realizing that he was ignoring his da...er, Taryn.
"Eh, sorry. Thinking. I would like to play as black."

"Heh. My dad's this whiz at chess. He beats me all the time; one of my long term goals is to finally beat him. I've only ever beat him once, and that was when I was white, in monster chess."

Shrug.

"You'd probably beat me, too."

"I probably would." There's no hint of cockiness there, either. It's just a fact. "I would probably beat your dad, too."
He tilted his head.
"I'd like to meet him, actually. Heh, chess wizzes are hard to come by. I get bored playing myself."

She grinned.

"If you played Daddy, I could pretend it was me winning vicariously. But Iunno. He's awfully protective."

Most daddies are, you notice?

"He'd probably grill you over chess and make you lose concentration or something."

A one-shoulder shrug.
"I don't lose my concentration. Take everything he threw at me, and checkmate him besides."
The situation is purely hypothetical anyway.
"Course he'd prolly flip over the board and leave when he heard my answers."

"Maybe. Maybe not. My mom would probably give you weird looks from the first minute she saw you. Rachel'd adore you, because she wants to be rebellious but it's not quite working, Esther and Lydia would ignore you, James'd hang all over you and try to make you play with him, and Deborah would examine you then decide that whatever she was interested in at the time was more interesting."

Yes, she just went through the list of all the people who are currently living at home. No, there wasn't any real reason to it. She just did.

"I like James and Deborah, I think."
Grin.
"But mostly Taryn."

Oou, look, a blush.

"Flatterer."

She's covering her slight confusion and embarrassment with teasing, can you tell?

Teasing begets teasing. Keye piles it on.
"For you--anything."

Archly.

"Anything?"

She could do a lot with that, you know.

Who has the high ground now?

...
Risky.
He beams.
"Anything at all."
A chuckle.
"Except violent crime."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She can't think of anything crazy enough right at the moment, you see. Don't worry; she'll come up with something 'anything' enough later.

Wink.

"You do that..."

Mm, food. Keye likes food. When he gets around to it, he isn't shy about eating.

Taryn isn't very shy about eating, either, though she does it in a funny, dainty kind of way that makes her rather resemble an old fashioned lady. (It's even odder when she eats spaghetti; she does this funny little twist of her head.)

Mm, food.

Funny how she only remembers that she's hungry when the food shows up. That reminds me of someone...

I can't think who, though.

Who does it remind you of? Yourself? Keye? Me? (Hey, I do it too.)

At some point between bites, Keye glances at her and shakes his head with a smile.
That's cute, the way she's eating.

How about all of the above?

"Something funny?"

Taryn is (occasionally) observant, you know.

And there it is again, that fiery blush. Keye swallows a mouthful that might be just a tad too large and stammers "N-n-no, not really..."

"Mm."

And she returns to eating.

She's given up trying to understand why Keye acts the way he does. No, she had not realized that he has a crush on her; she's oblivious like that. Thanks for asking.

Pshew. Close call.
He finished eating and got the check, et cetera et cetera.
"I'll walk you home, yeah?"