Page 17 of You Had Me at Hockey

“Uh…” Is she asking me out?

“I mean, do you think it’s brunch because of the time of day? Or food related? Like, can you have a hamburger for brunch?”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “If you have a hamburger, it’s lunch.”

“Even if it’s, say…ten-thirty in the morning?”

“Why would you have a hamburger at ten-thirty in the morning?”

“Say you did.”

“Well, then it’s lunch.”

“I think if you eat a meal at ten-thirty or eleven, it’s brunch no matter what you eat.”

“The wordbrunchis a combination ofbreakfastandlunch.”

“That proves me right.”

“What?” I frown. “Okay, maybe it does. What does it matter?”

She points a French fry at me. “Exactly.”

I snort-laugh. Jesus.

“How’s your hamburger?”

“Fantastic. You were right.”

“Good.” She takes another bite of her burger, chews, and swallows. She has a spot of ketchup just beside her mouth. “What’s something that makes you really angry?”

“Hmm. Bad drivers.”

“Yeah.” She appears to like my answer. “What else?”

“Lying, cheating, laziness, people not keeping their word, friends who betray you.” Ah shit. I shouldn’t have said that last one.

Her face softens. “Oh yeah. Those are all good ones. I also get angry when I’m hungry. Things bother me so much more.”

“Hangry. Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Excuse me.”

We both look up to see a woman standing by our table with two teenage girls, maybe fourteen and sixteen.

“My daughters are wondering if they could get your autograph.”

They’re looking at Sara. Not me.

The fact that this startles me makes me want to laugh. I feel my ego deflating like a balloon with the air let out of it.

“Of course!” Sara signs their paper napkins and poses for a picture with the girls, who tell her they watch all her videos. She’s very sweet about it, talking easily to the girls.

When they’re gone she slumps back in her seat. “Sorry. That still freaks me out.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I still can’t believe anyone wants my autograph.” She shakes her head. “It’s bizarro.”

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