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wish I had your talent.   I have no artistic talent whatsoever.   I can dismantle a bike and put it back
together again, but can’t draw a stick person.”
                    Getting
sidetracked, I say, “It’s not that hard for me.   I started drawing when I was younger to escape my life.   You know, make up worlds where things went
right.   My teacher in middle school saw I
had talent.   I would go after school and
he would help me, and give me pointers.”
                    “You
should go to art school,” Jeremy urges.   “Seriously, you could get scholarships.”
                    “That
is what my current art teacher keeps saying,” I sigh.   “He even gave me applications, but I can’t
think about college.”
                    Shaking
his head, Jeremy asks, “Why?”
                    “My
life isn’t conducive to college.   I plan
on it, just not right now.”
                      With his eyes staring straight at me, Jeremy
says, “Don’t let anything get in your way.   Go for it.   You have only one
life, you need to live it.”
                    “That
is a general theme for you isn’t it?” I ask.
                    The
waitress suddenly appears, and Jeremy seems to ignore me.   “This is great!” He shouts.
                    I
look down at my plate and then at him.   “Jeremy, we could have shared a plate.”
                    “Speak
for yourself ,” he says, grabbing his silverware.   “I can eat all of this easily.”
                    “I
would throw up,” I reply.
                    “Do
you need anything else?” The waitress asks.
                    Jeremy
smirks.   “Es su cumpleaños .   Por favor, traiga su torta .”
                    Smiling back, the waitress nods and walks away.   I look at Jeremy.   “What did you say?”
                    “Nothing,”
he replies, taking a bite of food.
                    “I
didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” I say, as I unroll my silverware.
                    With
a snort, Jeremy chuckles.   “We don’t know
much about each other yet.”
                    “True.”   I eat some of my food.   “Oh my gosh ,” I
exclaim.   “This is so good.”
                    “Told you so.”
                    I
happily eat my food.   This is fun.   I haven’t had fun in a long, long time, not
with someone else.   Jeremy keeps giving
me looks out of the corner of his eyes.   Finally, I laugh.   “What?”
                    “Nothing,”
he retorts.   “I am just glad to see you
having a good time.   This is for your
birthday after all.”
                    Putting
my fork down, I say, “Thank you, I really appreciate this.”
                    “Oh,
you may not appreciate it in about five seconds.”
                    “What, why?” I snap.
                    Suddenly,
there is guitar playing and people singing.   NO! NO! NO!   A group of restaurant
employees come over and start serenading me.   I punch Jeremy as hard as I can in the arm.   This just sends him into hysterics.   I place my face in my hands.   I want to die, please, just let me die.   They go on for a while, and then finally
end.   The waitress sets a big piece of
cake down on the table.   It has a single
lit candle on it.  
                    “Make
a wish,” Jeremy whispers.
                    My
eyes drift over to Eric.   He is clapping
with everyone else.   Closing my eyes, I
blow out the candle.   Well, I did want to
celebrate my birthday, right?
                    We
finish eating, which entails Jeremy eating all his food, then some of my