Page 51 of Quarterback Sneak

“You’d get chicken strips at a nice restaurant?” I can hear the laughter in his voice, but somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing at me.

“Probably.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t try to change my mind. “What’s your side order? Mashed potatoes, broccoli, salad?”

“I think you’re highly overestimating me, Zane. I’d choose fries.”

“Chicken tenders and fries. Got it.”

I wait for him to make a wise crack, but he doesn’t. “You’re not going to make fun of me?”

“For what?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“For saying I would order chicken strips and fries at a fancy restaurant.”

“Evie, if that’s what you like, that’s what you like. There’s no shame in that. When I take you on a date, you can order chicken strips and fries on one condition.”

“What?”

“You let me try some.”

I’m grinning from ear to ear. “Deal.”

“What’s your drink order?” he continues.

“Sprite.”

“What about you?” I ask in return.

“Water.”

“Booooring.”

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

“Is that because you’re an athlete, or do you just like water?”

“Probably a little of both.”

“What’s your order at a fancy restaurant?” I’m curious now.

“A rare steak and a baked potato with broccoli.” He pauses. “You’re not saying anything.”

“I’m trying not to gag on the rare steak.”

He laughs. “Not a fan, I take it?”

“No, not at all. If I’m going to have steak, which is a rarity, it needs to be fully cooked, not still mooing at me.”

“Well done. Got it.”

“With steak sauce,” I add. “Do you use steak sauce?”

He’s quiet a moment. “Are you going to decide not to go out with me if I say no?”

“Yes,” I say without skipping a beat.

“Then I love steak sauce.”