From Pain

                                    

                                          
MADISON
The place Gavin brings us to is in a neighborhood that I've never been before and looks slightly rundown. At first glance, I can't help but feel like this is a place I shouldn't be visiting There's a ton of weird businesses around that I'm not used to seeing, like laundromats and instant check cashing places. Not only that, but there's a bunch of people hanging around outside that seem down on their luck, or maybe even homeless.
I hate thinking this way, and I don't want Gavin to think that I'm some kind of snob or something, so I ignore my reservations. I know he wouldn't bring me anyplace that could really be dangerous, and besides, he seems totally comfortable, so it must be fine. Not every part of the city looks like Cherry Hills, so I shouldn't worry about it. 
Finally, we pull up in front of a pizza place and into a parking lot that's practically deserted. Whether I should be doing this with him or not, my stomach has been growling since we left the museum and I'm dying to eat. 
                "Do you want to wear this?" He asks, offering me his shirt from the backseat. 
I hesitate, not knowing what I should say. Logically, I know that I'm still only wearing a wet tank top and that being inside an air-conditioned building would be miserable. Emotionally, I don't think I can put on Gavin's shirt without either wanting to secretly smell it or risk developing feelings for him. Wearing his shirt could be the closest thing to touching him, and that is definitely off limits because it gives me those weird sensations I know I shouldn't be having. I mentally waffle back and forth, staring at his shirt like an idiot until I see him quickly look down my chest and then away. 
                "Because, you know, your shirt's sort of see-through."
Gavin blushes the tiniest bit, making my entire body feel like I've been engulfed in flames. Taking it from this hand, I throw it over my tank top as fast as possible before jumping out of the car. 
                "Thanks." I mumble, desperately trying not to look at him. 
Gavin says nothing but holds the door open for me as we walk together. Inside, the pizza place is dark, quiet, and cool with no sound at all except the far-off buzz of an air-conditioning humming. There's no hostess, so I follow him over to a corner booth where the chilly plastic gives me goosebumps against my damp clothes.  
I have no idea how long he could see through my shirt, so it's obviously awkward when we first sit down. Earlier today, being around him felt effortless. Now after the excitement of it all, I have no idea what to talk about. 
                "So.... your parents must be cool if they let you have tattoos already." I stammer, thinking about how my mother would die if I ever got one. Gavin gives me a wounded looking half smile, looking uncomfortable. Even before he speaks, I immediately can tell that I've said something wrong. 
                "Yeah.... I don't live with them" he says flatly, his eyes avoiding mine. 
                "I'm sorry." I say, wishing I could stuff question back into my mouth. "Did they kick you out or something?"
                "Or something" he says flatly "It's ok. I live with my cousin." 
My mind starts firing a million questions about his life, all of them I'm desperate to ask, but at the same time I'm afraid that somethings might be off limits or too personal. That, and from the way he looks, it's clear he doesn't want to talk about it. I chew my bottom lip and stare at the table, unsure what else to do.
                "So?" He asks, breaking the silence, "what about your parents? They look like they've got it together, seeing as how your house is a mansion."