Page 182 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“She can’t help it. Dad’s programmed her as a little cynic.”
We move into the dining room and Wyatt and I sit opposite, Callum next to him, and Casey next to me. Dad takes the head of the table, and Mom sits opposite him after serving our dinner plates.
“Mmm,” Wyatt purrs. “Smells amazing.”
“I hope you like it,” Mom says with rosy cheeks. “I know you’ve been used to fine dining.”
“The best meal I’ve had was when Josie and I watched old movies and ate pizza,” Wyatt says, eyeing me while wearing the cutest smile. “But your home cooking might have that beat.”
“They’re black bean and squash enchiladas,” Mom says. “I’ve never used vegan cheese, but it looks like it held together.”
Casey screws up her face. “Vegan-what-now?”
“You won’t even be able to tell the difference,” Dad tells her.
Casey grumbles at her plate. “Tell that to Mom’s face.”
“It was just something new to try,” Mom says, frazzled. “You know I get nervous when I try something new.”
Callum cracks up, nudging Wyatt. “Mom gets nervous no matter how many times she tries something.”
Wyatt takes a bite and smiles. “It’s awesome, Mrs. Bartlett.”
While Mom thanks Wyatt, Callum quickly shovels in a mouthful of food. “Yeah,” Callum mumbles. “It’s good.”
“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” Dad tells him.
Mom laughs to herself. “It’s good to see Callum trying somethingnew. We need to have Wyatt over for dinner more often if it actually gets this boy to eat.”
I smile, ignoring the fact my family is now onboard with vegan eating, despite my prior efforts to bring it into the dinner rotation. My heart is just too full, watching Callum’s adoration. Yep, definitely a mini superfan.
“Are we just glossing over this vegan part?” Casey asks, gesturing with her fork. “What the heck is this cheese made from?”
“Soy,” I say matter-of-factly.
She deadpans me. “Soy?”
“Yes.”
“As in, the stuff we put on fried rice?”
I stifle my laugh. “Yes, it all comes from soybeans.”
Casey pulls a face, which Mom and Dad are quick to tell her to drop.
Callum speaks with another mouthful of food. “It’s good, Casey. Try it.”
Casey huffs, rolls her eyes, and stabs her fork into her enchilada. “Should I say my final words?”
Everyone at the table huffs in frustrated annoyance.
Casey’s eyes widen. “What?”
“Just eat it,” we all say at once, erupting in laughter when Casey’s eyes slit as she takes her first bite.
“Not so bad, huh?” Dad says, bouncing in his laughter.
Casey grunts a response, keeping her eyes fixed on her plate.
