They were actually nothing compared to Stone’s home-cooking but Chip had no idea. He just shot me an admiring glance.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen a girl eat an entire SuperDuper Special,” he complimented. “Usually when I take girls out, they get the salad or some vegetarian option,” he snorted, nose scrunching. “That shit is disgusting, wilted leaves and alfalfa sprouts. Not that I take many girls here,” he amended quickly, shooting me a worried glance. “My mom gets the salad sometimes too,” he corrected, stumbling over his words.
And I almost laughed aloud because the hottest guy in school was tongue-tied over me, Evie Jones, the curvy girl. But I was understanding.
“No worries, sometimes I get the salad too,” I said nicely. That was a lie. I never get salad, I hate eating like a rabbit and have never forced myself to diet. But Chip looked relieved, glad he hadn’t mistakenly insulted me.
“Oh yeah,” he agreed, nodding quickly. “Even I’ve gotten the salad sometimes, but not often because I need to build muscle,” he said, hoisting an arm up in a bodybuilder pose. “See? I’ve got the guns,” he said proudly.
Honestly, it was kind of gross. His biceps were so huge that his shirt sleeves were almost bursting, the thin cotton no match for the bulging muscles and veins. Some girls would have died for that, but to me he just looked like a jungle animal.
“Yeah,” I said faintly. “Nice, must have worked hard for those.”
The jock nodded sagely.
“But I’m smart too,” he said quickly. “I’m going to State next year on an athletic scholarship, but I met all the minimum academic requirements no problem,” he boasted.
And I sighed. The minimum academic requirements were probably a 1.0 or something else ridiculously low. So it was nothing to brag about but I made myself smile again.
“That sounds wonderful Chip,” I praised. “So glad you didn’t have trouble clearing the GPA hurdle.”
And he puffed up again with pride.
“So where are you headed next year?” he asked.
The truth was I didn’t know. Now that I was involved with Mr. Phillips, everything was different. I wasn’t sure what was next for me, I wanted to be where he was, stay in the vicinity if he was still going to teach at Spencer Prep. I needed to talk things over with him, work things out, figure out our next steps. But no need for Chip to know any of this, so I just hemmed and hawed, feeding him a white lie.
“Oh me too,” I said with some enthusiasm. “My entire family went to State so maybe I’ll head there next year as well.”
It was the wrong thing to say because Chip took my hand, our greasy fingers suddenly entwined.
“Well, I hope we’ll see more of each other then,” he said seriously, his voice low and meaningful. “I’ve had a good time tonight and I hope you did too.”
I colored a little but not from excitement. It was because this was like taking a train to Orlando when you were supposed to be headed to Miami. It was off, but not so off that you were doomed.
So I forced myself to smile, reminding myself this this whole thing was a disguise for my liaison with Mr. Phillips.
“Yeah,” I chirped with what I hoped was whole-hearted enthusiasm. “It’s been fun.”
And Chip just smiled then, his face breaking out into a big grin.
“Oh great,” he breathed, exhaling on a big sigh, the smell of greasy French fries hitting my face. “Great, great.”
And with that, we walked out of the joint, the envious stares of my female classmates trailing my form. Chip drove me home, giving me a quick peck on the lips when I hopped out.
“Evie,” he said seriously, making pointed eye contact. “I had a great time,” he repeated.
And this time, I smiled on auto-pilot.
“Me too!” I chirped. “See ya tomorrow!” I said, hopping out, slinging my purse over my shoulder and practically skipping the steps up to my building. “Bye!” I waved over my shoulder.
And as his car zoomed off, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over. My fake date was finally over and I could relax, let myself dream. It wasn’t that Chip was so bad, he just wasn’t the one I wanted. My alpha male was handsome, sophisticated, an awesome cook and even better in bed. Stone, my mind sang. Stone, my body hummed. I couldn’t wait to see him again and stepped into the elevator, dreaming of the big man.
But he wasn’t in class the next day. Or the day after that. There was no reason really, just that Mr. Phillips had been placed on “administrative leave.” WTF? What was that? People asked questions, our mouths agape, puzzled, confused.