Free The Muse by Nicholas Matthews

fries, and two chocolate milkshakes, extra thick.  Go heavy on the whipped cream.”
                “You got it,” Joanie said, skating away without bothering to write any of it down.  “Anything else I can get for you guys?”
                “Nope, we’re good,” he said as she walked away.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Joanie hadn’t mentioned anything about Faith’s bruise.  He would have to tip her well the next time he was here. 
                “This is some place,” Faith remarked.  “I like it.”
                “It's an honest place,” Gibson said.  “No pretension.  Nothing fancy.  Just a place to feel good.”
                “I like the no pretension part,” Faith said.  “This is the kind of life I’ve been looking for.”
                “Well, if you’ve wanted to eat diner food all your life all you had to do was say so.  I could have pointed you in the right direction.”
                “Oh hush,” she said.  “You know what I meant.”
                “I’m just teasing,” Gibson said. 
                “I feel better just being here with you.”
                Gibson smiled.  “Me too.”
                “You're so different than I thought you were,” Faith said.  Her face was bathed in neon from the 'Open' sign in the window.  Her bruise was scarcely noticeable. 
                “I've been thinking about why that is,” Gibson said.  “I have a theory on that.  I think I've been focused on myself for so long that I've forgotten what it's like to focus on someone else for a change.  You gave me something new to focus on, and it's brought out a whole new side of me.”
                “So do you really like me or am I just a distraction?” Faith asked, playfully.
                “Can't both be true?” Gibson asked with a wink.  Faith slapped his hand. 
                “I'm just kidding,” he said.  “I really like you.  A lot more than I imagined I could have.”
                “I understand that feeling,” Faith said.  “You've really surprised me.”
                “Maybe I can do that again,” Gibson said, pulling a pencil out of his pocket.  “Hold still for a second.”  Without explaining himself, he began to draw on the paper placemat sitting in front of him.  Every now and then he would look up to study something about Faith only to return seconds later to his project.  In the background The Platters were singing in harmony. 
                In a few minutes, he was ready to show her what he had done.  He turned the placemat around and showed Faith a new drawing of her.  This time there were no colors, no brush strokes, just a lot of details drawn with a pencil.  Yet, it captured her just as perfectly as the painting had done.  Faith giggled like a school girl.  “You're so good!” she said.  “How are you able to do that?”
                “Lots of practice sketching folks in The Square.  I’ve probably done this hundreds of times.  Yet, I’ve never been so enthusiastic about my art.  You inspire me.”
                “No one has ever told me that before,” Faith said, clasping her hands in front of her and leaning across the table so she didn’t have to speak so loudly.  “Do you really mean that?”
                “You saw that painting I did of you in one night.  If that doesn’t indicate inspiration I don’t know what does.”
                Joanie chose that moment to bring their food.  She took a look at the drawing and whistled.  “He's a master,” she said.  “Very talented.  He nailed it!”
                Gibson laughed.  “I'll pay you later for all the promotion you're giving me.”
                “Don't mention it,” she said.  “I'm just glad to see the