Page 6 of Friend Zoned

“Like vanilla?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“Definitely vanilla, Coach.”

She has a piece of lemon cake left. It’s the kind with the thick, white frosting, and I want it. I reach for it, but she must have been anticipating me. She blocks my hand with one arm and lifts the piece of cake into her mouth with the other.

“Foul,” she says.

“That’s not how you use that, and you would be the one who fouled since you hit me.”

“Try and steal my cake, you deserve more than just a touch. No jury on earth would convict me.” A server comes and offers us each a glass of dessert wine. Jeannie accepts and the instant she puts the glass to her full lips, her mother returns to our table, this time dragging the bride’s brother behind her.

Jeannie groans and covers her face with her free hand. Her mother pulls it away and says, “Jeannie, this is Alan Taylor. He’s not a football player, but he’s smart.” She lowers her voice and whispers, “He’s a college professor. He has a good brain.”

Since I hit puberty, I’ve had mothers try to force their daughters on me. It got worse when I was deemed old enough to marry. I’ve met almost every trust fund woman in and around the Greenwich, Connecticut area since I was a boy. My family name is all I ever needed. Even when I decided not to go into the family business and played professional basketball instead, it didn’t stop. This is the first time that a mother has introduced her daughter to every eligible bachelor in the room except for the one who managed to get her to put her book away.

Then again, she’s only introduced Jeannie to all the black bachelors, so maybe she doesn’t see me as a potential option for her daughter, who is mortified right now. Granted, I’ve never dated a black woman, but she doesn’t know that.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Alan. I apologize on my mother’s behalf.” Jeannie offers Alan her hand.

“It’s my curse,” he says. “All moms love me.” Jeannie looks at him and laughs. My own smile and good mood disappear. This guy’s eyes light up when he looks at her. I’m a man, so I know when another man is appreciating a woman’s good looks.

“He doesn’t have tattoos,” her mother says.

“I’ll be sure to let my father know you’re over here checking men for tattoos. You remember your husband, Mom?”

Myra scoffs at her daughter. “Sit with her, Alan.” Myra eyes me and subtly gestures her head as if I’m going to get up and give this Alan my seat.

“Mom, have you met Aiden? He’s Mr. Colt’s coach. Coach, this is my mom, Myra.” Myra shakes my hand but barely looks at me. Maybe she can sense I have tattoos underneath my Armani suit.

“Tell her what you teach, Alan,” her mom insists. “He says calculus isn’t hard. Remember I had to get you a tutor?”

Jeannie’s nostrils flare at her mother, who remains oblivious. Myra looks down at me and tilts her head in the opposite direction, but I don’t move. My only reaction is to arch an eyebrow and shake my head no. She huffs and crosses her arms, but I remain in my seat.

“Tell her,” Myra says.

“Well,” Alan begins. He grabs an empty chair and sits. “It’s not hard at all. Calculus gets a bad name, in my opinion. You know how algebra is all about balance. Basically, both sides balance because they both represent the same amount. Well, all it is, is the mathematical study of continuous change. The reason why it’s called calculus is because it’s a faster way to do calculations. Say you want to calculate the orbits of the planets or where they’re positioned, that’s where calculus would come in.”

“See?” her mother says. “I told you he was smart. Tell her more.”

“Wow,” Jeannie says, opening her eyes wide as if she’s awed. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I need to figure out the distance between Earth and Jupiter.”

Alan leans in as if he’s preparing himself to deliver a lecture. I decide to give him ten more seconds before I tell him to get lost. “Oh, that’s kids’ stuff. What I mean by that is—"

Alan is interrupted when Vickie and Colt arrive at our table. “Alan, there you are. I need to talk to you. Excuse us, Myra, but I have a problem that only Alan can fix.” Vickie yanks him to his feet and wraps her arm through her brother’s as she pulls him away. She winks at me on her way out.

“Myra, how about a dance?” Colt offers Myra his hand, and she blushes like a schoolgirl before she takes it and practically floats away.

“A quick Google search will tell you the distance between Earth and Jupiter, and I guarantee you it will take less time than whatever he was going to explain.”

“Yes, but he was so excited to talk about it. He’s adorable, isn’t he?” she asks.

No, he definitely is not, and I’m glad he’s gone.

“You look like a woman who needs more dessert. Don’t move.” I get up and practically leap to the dessert table. I pile a bunch of things on one plate so we will be forced to share. She’s sitting there smiling wistfully when I return. Her eyes light up when she sees the plate, and she lets out a carefree laugh. I want to make her laugh again.

“So, I’ve given you my card proving what I do for a living.”

“How do I know you didn’t make those cards on VistaPrint?”

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