Wait. Did he just… Is he asking me on a date?
Alec kept talking, oblivious to the sudden pounding of my heart. “It’s next Friday at noon. The party goes until six, but we don’t have to stay the whole time if you don’t want. And I can pick you up if you need a ride.”
Holy shit.Hewasasking me on a date.
I stared at him, openmouthed and bewildered. When Alec drove me home after the ball, there had been a moment of tense anticipation as we sat in my driveway. It was like in the movies when the guy walks the girl to the door, and she wonders if he will kiss her. Part of me had hoped for the chance to spend more time together, to get to know him. But now that it was actually happening, it didn’t seem real. I knew I needed to respond, but words failed me.
“If you already have plans…” he trailed off.
“I don’t.” Except for work, but Alec didn’t need to know that. I could easily trade shifts with one of the other waitresses. “Basically, you need someone to suffer alongside you?” I asked, and satisfaction shot through my chest at my witty, almost flirty response.
His mouth quirked into a crooked grin. “Exactly. It will be terrible. I promise.”
“And what doesterribleinclude?”
Alec, whose arms were folded in front of him on the table, leaned in on his elbows. “Lots of pain. Lots of torture.”
“Well, gosh,” I said with a growing smile. “How’s a girl supposed to say no to that?”
***
Two hours later, I was clearing my only table of the day—a couple who, judging by their accents, were visiting from Australia—when the door of the Electric Waffle opened with a bang. A pair of heavy boots clomped inside. It was the type of obnoxious commotion that could only be caused by Boomer. Sure enough, he was shaking the rain from his hair when I looked up. Asha stood next to him, struggling to close an umbrella.
“Hey, Felicity!” he yelled in typical Boomer fashion.
“I’m at our regular spot,” I called back to him. “I’ll be done in a minute.”
There was a five-dollar tip pinned under the ketchup bottle, and I shoved it in my apron pocket before grabbing the remaining dirty silverware and heading to the kitchen. After dumping the bus tub in the sink, I gathered our usual refreshments (soda for Boomer, a slushy for Asha, more coffee for me) before making my way over to my friends.
“Two blueberry shakes?” Asha asked as a way of greeting. “Must have been a bad day.”
I set the serving tray down and slid into the booth next to Boomer. He’d pulled his Game Boy from his pocket, but Asha shot him aSeriously?look, and he heaved a sigh before shoving the gaming device back into his shorts.
“Actually,” I said, passing out our drinks, “besides the lack of customers and this god-awful weather, my day was good.”
Which was all because of Alec. I tried to keep a straight face as I thought about him, but it was impossible not to smile. A few minutes after he invited me to his father’s party, the two Australian tourists had arrived and asked for a table. Regrettably, I’d had to return to work, but he’d waved off my apology as he tugged his coat back on, promising to pick me up on Friday. And this time around, I didn’t mind saying good-bye because I knew I’d see him again.
“It was a good day?” Asha ripped open three packets of sugar and dumped them into her cup as if there wasn’t already a gallon of high fructose corn syrup in the drink. “Then what’s up with the ice cream overdose?”
“I only had one,” I said, reaching for a sugar packet. If I didn’t snag one now, she would use them all. “The second was Alec’s.”
“That famous dude with the F12?” Boomer asked. “Did he drive it here?”
“Yes, and no. Well, actually, I don’t know,” I said.
Boomer frowned and scratched his head, disheveling his already crazy curls.
I quickly clarified, “Yes, it was him, but I have no clue what car he drove.”
“Oh, he drove it,” Boomer answered even though he was the one who’d asked the question. “You don’t own a car like that andnotdrive it places. God, I would have paid to see it.”
“Of course you only care about the car,” Asha replied with an eye roll, but then she stiffened. “Holy hell. You meanheactually sat here?” She looked down at the bench she was seated on, her voice tinged with awe, before glancing at the empty milk shake. “And that was his drink? The straw he drank from?”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Please don’t go all creepy fangirl on me.”
“I’m sorry, but this is… Wow!” She was shaking her head, her gaze still fixed on the glass, as if this information was too much to handle. “Wait a minute. When did you make plans to meet with him?”
I flinched. Secretly, I was hoping this wouldn’t come up, because I knew Asha would be miffed I hadn’t told her. “Yesterday after you guys left,” I admitted.
