Agh, The Yelling!

Tony's date raised a brow when they neared the place he'd chosen, "Mexican food, hm?" Jazza asked with a smirk, leaning her head on her elbow to look at it through the window. It wasn't exactly what *she* would have picked for their first date, but whatever, she could roll with it. She just thought... oh she was being silly. "You love door in the walls too?" She asked through a soft, slightly nervous, chuckle.

He nodded, shot her an excited smile, and listened to the old truck's engine die. "Yeah," he said while stepping out of the vehicle. "And this place is really good."

Jazza hardly resisted biting her lip as they walked inside. "Tay-bell fur two?" Tony nodded then confidentally followed the waitress to their table. It was clear that he'd been here hundreds of times. One of the people even greeted him!

What if their prior friendship made this too nonchalant? She dared to worry as he sat down across from her.

He looked at her and smiled. She was his date. He couldn't believe it!

She tried to smile back. 'Try to keep an open mind,' she thought in consolation.

He smiled at her fondly before turning his attention to the menu, "They have really good tacos, but really anything they have is good." He'd had most of the food, but maybe it was time to try something new?

"Cool." He shrugged at his own thoughts, "So, what's your dad like?" She asked with a sip of her water.

Tony's smile lessened slightly. "Awe, um, he's cool." he answered more quietly than usual, "I haven't seen him in a few years tho." He said a bit sadly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, sighing as she glanced to the noise at the kitchen. Someone was yelling in Spanish. She cleared her throat, "Ya mind if I ask why?" she tried to asked despite the jarring noise.

He shook his head, "No, it's fine." he trusted her not to gossip. "He's in jail. A couple towns over... I've just uh.. been busy, with the restaurant." he admitted to curb her curious mind, "Plan on slowing down soon though, gathering staff so that I can just manage. I don't want it to be my life, y'know?"

Jazza nodded though she didn't agree,"Yeah, that's cool. Gramps felt the same," she said with a small chuckle,"Kept the business nice and slow for me growing up. He was one of the best mechanics in a hundred miles, but chose to raise me instead of making big." She explained with a shake of her head. She'd make sure to grow it for him, continue the legacy he so generously gave her.

Tony smiled and nodded as the waiter walked away with their orders. "Yeah, I get that. My mom's super hard working." he just wished his parents had done the same, or at least had been more responsible with birth control. He had so many siblings that, though they were a happy family, his parent never had the luxury to stop working.

Jazzabella watched him fondly from across the table, "Wish I could meet her."

"Yeah, she used to run the laundry mat by our house then personally deliver clothes to her clients." He explained fondly. He laughed lightly at memory of him trying to hide away in one of those baskets. "My dad would alway tell her to slow down." He said with a shake of his head.

"Yeah?" She asked, her heart fluttering at the sound of his soft laugh. It seemed so warm and inviting. She wanted to hear it more. "Least you have her," Jazzebella reminded him with a shrug. She looked to the colorful flowers in the middle of the table,"Never knew mine."

When his expression changed to pity, she knew she'd misspoken. "But, um," she struggled to recover from her slip up as his hand moved across the table to hers. She glanced up to find her heart skipping a beat.

"You're too cool for them." He told her softly, his adoration for her showing clearly in his eyes.

She sighed, withdrew her hand, and shook her head. "Thanks." she mumbled under her breath. Had she just ruined the date? She should *not* have mentioned her parents.

He nodded at her then the man whom was arriving with a tray full of food. "Thank you, sir." He said with a smile before he glancing to his plate of fajitas.

"Sometimes we need that." Jazzabella began to say softly, "A reminder. It's hard to pace yourself when there's so much to do." She said with a small chuckle, knowing from experience. Lifting up her fajita to her mouth, she worried about this very dinner. Was she being too depressing?

He nodded and took a bite of his food. "Yeah," He swallowed then cleared his throat. "Gotta make sure to pace yourself."

First she mentions her dead mentor, then their absent parents, now work? What was wrong with her? She ate quietly, unsure how to act or speak. Now that she had him she was so scared to run him off with the wrong words. Besides Jesseye, he was one of her oldest and greatest friends.

"You ok?" He asked softly. She trusted him, but never, never had she let him see certain sides of herself. It wasn't that they were bad, it's just, she didn't want him thinking less of her.

She nodded then jumped at a crash in the kitchen and rose quickly to her feet as a furious hispanic woman shouted her disapproval to the entire the restaurant. "I'mma check what's happening.." She said, starting that way.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Jazza's emotional walls of protection instantly rose in reaction. "Don't bother." He shook his head, took a second to swallowed his bite then explain further. "They do it all the time. It's a family owned place." She wretched her wrist away, glaring at him lightly as he continued, "So it happens, they're fine." He said through a bit of a nervous laugh.

"How do you know?" She asked cooly, slowly lowering herself into the seat again.

"I've come here before. Often." He chewed another bite of his amazingly seasoned beef tacos before noticing her tension, "Are you ok?" He asked softly, his brows knit in concern.

With a light scoff she curtly answered,"Yes." Why did he keep asking her that? Clearly she was fine, "I'm just," she readjusted her napkin to cross her legs, "Don't like yelling." She forcably tucked a stray wisp behind her ear before biting obstinately into her soft taco.

Tony nodded though he wasn't sure he believed her. "Ok." When she was fine, she was kind, sweet, and a little feisty.

She huffed before finally admitting, "Fine, I'm nervous." then immediately pulling her large curls back, "And God," she breathed her frustration, using a scrunchy to hopefully hold them at bay, "I'm sweating bullets," she confessed through with a light, more than embarrassed laugh. 'Maybe I shouldn't have said that?' she thought too late. Surely it was better than being quiet.

"Don't worry about it." He said, waving her off. She cleared her throat as he laughed at her, her anxious heel tapping vigorously under the table. "You should've seen me before you got the the restaurant." He finally told her. Flirting was so much different than dating, they both agreed.

Jazza quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah? You go crazy or somethin?" she asked, her light smirk returning.

He nodded, pausing to sip his ice cold water, "I was pacing circles around the tables to try ta calm myself down." He said with the hopes that it would provide her with some comfort.

She released a breath and smiled. So he *was* serious about this, "Ya were?" she asked in such a thick Chicago accent.

Overall, the date wasn't too bad. Tony just hadn't picked the right place. The food was good, great even, but the yelling from the kitchen rubbed her the wrong way. Nearly every time she'd begin to relax again, they'd sound again. He'd better remember not to bring her there again. It reminded her of a foster home before Gramps took her in that hadn't been all that nice.

But, it didn't matter now. She was home. There was always another day.