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“Wyn, what’s wrong?”
“Everything I had planned for dinner was in the fridge.”
“Ok, then let’s grab something to go—my treat.”
“I’m not a charity case!”
“No, you’re not. You’re my friend, and friends help one another. Don’t let your pride keep you from finding peace in a bad situation.”
Pride—the word makes me flinch because it’s the very thing u?cí said drove a wedge between até and me.
“Alright, but just this once because it’s an emergency.”
“On my honor, just this once. Next time, I’ll let you go hungry.”
Bash smirks when I grumble, and I swallow the urge to stick my tongue out at the man.
After sending a quick text to Mrs. Jenkins, I drop my phone back in my purse and turn to Bash.
“Next dinner is my treat, ok?”
“Sure thing.”
“I mean it. I’ll make an amazing wohanpi. It’s one of Jake’s favorites.”
“What’s wohanpi?”
“It’s a traditional Lakota stew. Iná —my mom—would make it all the time when I was growing up. It’s made with bison, vegetables, and spices.”
“Sounds delicious. It’s a date.”
The butterflies inside my stomach swoon, and I can’t help but smile at my knight in shining dress suit.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to my apartment complex.
Bash’s Porsche looks so out of place, like a shiny new penny surrounded by rusted bottle caps.
He’s out of the car before I can tell him not to worry about it, opening my door for me. I scowl.
How dare he be such a gentleman—doesn’t he know how hard he’s making this for me?
Together we walk up the three flights of stairs to my apartment, and I dig my keys out.
When I open the door, Jake is a blur, rushing to hug me.
“Hey chi?kší! How was your day?”
“Super great! I got an A in spelling! Ooo, it smells like Chinese!”
“Mr. Ettin bought dinner.”
Jake looks past me to see Bash, and his smile grows even bigger.
“My best Boggart friend! Is he eating dinner with us, too?”
“Erm, if he wants. There’s certainly enough.”
“I would be delighted,” Bash says, squeezing through the doorframe to set down his handful of carry out.
