Now That I've Found You - Kristina Forest Page 0,59
will be even more paparazzi-dodging in your future.”
He laughs. “Maybe. But what if I’ve already written a song about you? Do you really think you need two songs?”
I freeze. My mouth goes slack-jawed. “You wrote a song about me?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He picks up a fry and holds it above my shake. “Can I?”
I blink, thrown off. “Can you what?”
“Dip my fry in your shake?”
“What? No! How gross. Why would you ever do that?”
His eyes bug out. “Evie … are you telling me you’ve never dipped a french fry in a milkshake before?”
“Of course not. This can’t be a thing that people actually do.”
His mouth is hanging open. “People do it all the time!” He pushes his plate toward me. “Take one. You try.”
I hesitate, wondering if he’s playing a trick on me or if this is just one of the many things I missed out on during childhood.
I take a fry and slowly dip it in my shake. When I take a bite, it’s soggy, but salty and sweet. I try another one.
“Oh my God, this is delicious.”
He grins, triumphant. “Told you.”
We both start eating milkshake-dipped french fries, and something about this feels like déjà vu, which is strange, because I’ve never sat in a diner and eaten french fries with a boy before.
But then I realize it’s not my memory. I’m thinking about Diane and Henry from Every Time We Meet. Their first date is at a restaurant in East Harlem, and they stay so late into the night that the staff begins cleaning up while Diane and Henry are still busy talking. I almost bring this up to Milo, but I don’t want him reading too deep into the comparison.
When the waitress returns with the check, I wonder again how we must look to her. A boy and a girl—who inexplicably wears sunglasses at night—laughing over french fries and a milkshake.
“I can pay,” I quickly say as Milo takes out his wallet.
“Let me.”
“No, seriously, I can—”
“I know you can, Evie,” he says. “But it’s Friday, and I got paid today. So just let me buy your dinner, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, only because I have a feeling we’ll just keep going back and forth. Plus, it’s not as if we’re really on a date or anything.
Then, because I can’t seem to help myself, I suddenly blurt out, “Raf thought we were going on a date last night. And he told me not to break your heart. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
Seriously. What is wrong with me?
“Not really,” Milo says, shrugging. “I tend to like girls who are unavailable and/or unattainable. You fall into both of those categories, so I can see why Raf would make that assumption.”
“Oh.” My heart starts to beat a little faster, and my palms get clammy. I look down and smooth out my dress just to have something to do other than stare at him. But when I look up, I find that he’s studying me in that careful way again, like he’s trying to read my mind.
“What?” I say.
“Nothing. I’m just thinking about the first time I saw you in person—last Christmas, when your grandmother had us come over and sing Christmas carols for you and your parents. We were all really nervous to meet you, especially me, since your grandma talked about you so much, but then you were on your phone the whole time we were there, and you didn’t even look up at us once. I remember thinking that you were nothing like the kind and funny girl that your grandmother had described. You just seemed really stuck-up.”
“Excuse me—”
“Wait, let me finish,” he says. “Now that I know you better, I can see what your grandmother means. What she didn’t say is that you’re spontaneous and clever and headstrong to a fault. And that you like to kiss people out of nowhere.”
The lava on my cheeks spreads down to my neck and chest. Pretty soon, my whole body is probably going to catch on fire. Flustered, I hiss, “I don’t just go around kissing people! That won’t ever happen again.”
He grins. “Really? That’s too bad.”
I glare at him, but he continues to grin. Then his expression turns into something a little more serious, and we’re staring at each other in silence. My heart gallops in my chest. I take measured breaths to slow it down, but there’s no use.
“Y’all have a good night,” the waitress says, giving Milo his change and a receipt.