Chapter 3: Like Old Times, But Different

"I may be president of the United States, but my private life is nobody's damned business." --Chester A. Arthur.

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"Look." Roselle pointed at Armani. "This isn't date night. Just tell me what on earth you want."

He nodded. "Let's go inside and get some dinner. I'm starving." He walked ahead of her in the direction of the restaurant.

"Hey," she protested. "I just said it's not date night."

He stopped and turned to face her. "You know, for a girl that's not on a date, you're dressed up really pretty."

Her face flushed. Stupid Michelle. Why did she have to make her dress like this? She hung her head and followed him into the diner in defeat.

* * *

Armani and Roselle were seated at a booth next to the window and handed menus. They sat across from one other. Roselle sneaked glances at him, but his eyes appeared to be glued to the menu. What was his angle?

Roselle looked around them. The diner was pretty empty. It was Tuesday, after all. Even so, she was concerned about people freaking out if they discovered she was having dinner with the 48th president of the United States.

"Are you sure it's really okay for you to be out like this?" she asked.

"I'm in a disguise. Even you didn't recognize me."

"Yeah, but what if the paparazzi shows up and snaps pictures of us or something?"

Armani laughed. "You know, Ro, I'm not a pop teen sensation or anything. I'm the president. Well, the next president. Technically, I'm not in office yet. That happens in January. And we're not doing anything scandalous. We're just having a meal." He placed his index finger on the menu. "Ah, this is what I was looking for. The steak special."

She heaved a sigh. "If you say so."

The waitress came by, and the two of them placed their orders. She wrote them down and notified them it would be ready within twenty minutes, taking their menus away.

"So, let's get down to business," Armani said, now piercing Roselle's tan eyes with his cerulean ones. He stared at her for moments, not saying anything.

"Cut it out," Roselle said, breaking away from his gaze and covering her face with her hand. "Don't look at me like that. It's creepy."

He smirked. "I'm sorry, Ro. It's just that it's been so long since I last saw you. You've grown up so much. What do you do nowadays?"

"I'm a hairstylist. Michelle is a makeup artist. We do freelance for weddings and stuff. I'd ask what you do, but uh, I already know."

They shared a laugh.

"But seriously," Roselle continued. "Tell me why you're here. I'm tired of having to ask you. Cut to the chase."

"I guess I just wanted to see an old friend one last time before my life changes forever."

"Oh, so now I'm your friend? You haven't seen me or made any attempt to contact me even once, and now all of a sudden you're here?" She swallowed her pride and delivered this next line. "I missed you, you idiot. Do you know how I felt as a kid when I was always ignored by you? I called you, messaged you, and I even sent you letters. Not once did I ever hear a response."

The future president bowed his head. "I . . . I'm so sorry, Ro. I didn't know you felt that way. Honestly, I'm not using this as an excuse, but after I moved, my life got hard. My parents and sister died in a car accident and I had survivor's guilt and trauma for years. I had nowhere to go, so I was sent to a foster home. The people there were so cruel to me, and I had to drop out of high school to get a job and support their family. Whenever I got your messages or letters, I was afraid to face you." He turned away. "I was ashamed of myself."

Roselle, who was stand-offish just a moment ago, softened her face. "I . . . I had no idea it was that bad," she said.

"I didn't want that life anymore, so I ran away. I worked hard and got into politics. I wanted to save other kids from having to go through the same things I did. One day, I had the idea of becoming president, so I could make a better future for not only foster kids, but for everyone. They told me I was too young, but I proved them wrong. I had them change the minimum age to twenty-one and got a lot of big names who were foster kids like me to support my political campaign." He smiled. "All this time, I haven't been able to face you until I became the president because I never believed in myself. After I won, I knew I was good enough."

She shook her head. "President or not, you're my best friend, Armani." A tear streamed down her cheek, but she wiped it away before he could see.

The waitress came back with the food, and set it down on the table. The two spent their meal catching up, laughing, and all-in-all, just having a good time. It was just like old times, but different. Yet somehow, Armani was just the same.

* * *

After dinner, Armani and Roselle decided to go down to the park where they used to play when they were kids. No children were there. It was probably due to the fact that the playground hasn't been maintained in years and was now dirty and graffiti-infested.

"Wow," Armani said. "I haven't been here in forever."

"Me too. I've been here a few times with Michelle after you left, but it was no fun without you so I stopped going. This place is a dump."

Armani took off his sunglasses and scarf and climbed onto the play structure.

"What are you doing?" Roselle asked. "What if someone sees you?"

He shrugged. "Seems pretty safe to me. Wanna join me up here?"

She heaved a sigh and nodded, climbing the structure, and taking a seat on it next to him.

"You know what sucks about being a politician?" he asked.

"What?"

"The fact that all the people who aren't on your side are so desperate to throw you down that they lie about you and degrade your name." He shook his head in disgust. "The fact that people are preying their eyes on me, waiting for me to mess up so they can throw me on blast. It's like I'm not entitled to live my own private life. Do you wanna know why I approached you the way I did?"

"Why?"

"Because if the secret service knew I was gonna hang out with you, they were gonna tag along and I didn't want that. I just wanted it to be us. I had to get a bus boy from the hotel kitchen and switch clothes with him just so I could sneak out."

"That explains so much." She laughed. "You really did all that just so you could hang out with me for a couple of hours?"

"Yeah." He took her by the hand. "And I would do it over a thousand times."

Roselle looked at Armani, the way the sunset glowed on his skin. The way he looked at her. It was just like how it was fourteen years ago when she saw him last. She pulled her hand away from his. "Don't hold my hand," she said.

"What's wrong?"

"I just remembered something. It's silly."

"You can tell me."

She sighed. "Well, do you remember when we were kids? Fourteen years ago, this was the exact place we sat when you asked me to marry you. And then I said I would marry you if you became the president of the United States, and now it actually happened." She cackled. "We were just children though. It didn't mean anything." She studied his expression. "Right?"

Armani nodded. "I was afraid that you'd forgotten. I'm glad you remembered. Now I don't have to explain it to you."

"Explain what?"

He jumped off the play structure, got down on one knee, and pulled out a box.

Roselle widened her eyes for a moment, but she calmed herself. "Ha ha. Very funny. Quit joking, dummy."

He opened the box, and inside was a diamond ring with a princess cut. The ring caught the last light of day, and the shimmer from the glow was almost magical. "It's no joke."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she tried to hide them, but every time she wiped them away, they were rapidly replaced with more. "Don't tell me that you actually--"

"Ro, I've loved you since we were children. I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, but my feelings have never changed. I wanted to prove myself to you before I asked for your hand. So now that I won the presidency, I can finally ask again. Will you marry me?"

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