Page 101 of The Disasters of Dating
I smile at him. “I think I might have you bamboozled.”
He tips his head to the side and stares at me. “How so?”
“I’m no more emotionally healthy than the next person. Maybe I just disguise it better.”
He stares at me for what some might consider longer than advisable when driving a car. “I don’t think so.”
I don’t want to argue about whether or not I’m more or less emotionally healthy. Especially when I know the disappointing answer. So, I change the subject. “Okay, you know I like AC/DC, but you never weighed in on the subject.”
He looks at me like he’s not quite ready to throw in the towel on our other conversation, but then seems to change his mind. “I’m pro AC/DC.”
I scoff. “As if you could be anything else. They’re too awesome not to like.”
“Agreed,” he says as he follows the GPS directions to the Clark Planetarium in downtown Salt Lake City. We’d decided to eat at one of the restaurants at The Gateway. That way, we won’t have to find a new parking space when we go to the planetarium. He pulls into the parking garage at the north end of the mall.
“The planetarium is more on the south end, if you want to park closer.”
“This is closer to the restaurant. I’ll park in the southern part of this garage so that we’re in between both.”
My brow furrows as I try to remember what restaurants are over on this side of the mall. I can’t think of any except for Flannery’s. But that one is far too expensive. I can’t imagine we’re going there.
He pulls into a parking space and jogs around the car to let me out. As he helps me out, he grins at me. “I didn’t want you hopping out on your own. I want your dad to approve of me.”
I shake my head. “Sorry about that back at my house. I just couldn’t risk that my mom would catch me while I waited for you.”
“Are you saying I’m slow?”
I give him a sad look. “If the shoe fits, mister.”
“Well,” he says in a huffy voice. But he takes my hand, so I’m thinking it is for show. “Maybe this attitude is because you’re hangry. Let’s get to the restaurant.”
I hurry alongside him, my height disadvantage showing. “Where are we going and why are we moving so fast?”
He looks over and grimaces, slowing his pace. “Sorry. We have a reservation. But we have enough time that I don’t need to drag you along.”
“Where are we going that we need a reservation?”
He lifts his brows. “It’s a secret.”
“Why?” I ask in suspicion.
“Because secrets are fun.” He replies.
I shake my head. “Maybe for the secreter. But for the secretee, not so much.”
He stops and stares down at me. “What in the heck are a secreter and secretee?”
I give him a duh look. I mean, it’s totally obvious, right? “The secreter is the one with the secret. And the secretee is the one the secret is being kept from. No one likes to be the secretee. Trust me.”
He drops his head back and laughs. “Oh, man, Sprite. You’re the best.”
I look at him with a creased brow. “Sprite?”
He frowns. “Yeah. I was going for a cute nickname, but I can see now that was a mistake.”
“No, it’s not a mistake. I was wondering how you decided on Sprite.”
He lifts a shoulder and looks uncomfortable. “You know, Poppy, Pops, soda pop, Sprite. It seemed natural when I thought of it. But now that I say it out loud, I can see it’s not.”
