Page 56 of Last Letters to Ara
I personally didn’t love the place. The menu changes every night, never giving me something to look forward to, which is hard for me, being an emotional eater that chooses my meals based on my mood. Blake said it was because I’m uncultured and immature, but I just prefer knowing a restaurant will have something I like, or at the very least, chicken tenders to fall back on.
Okay, maybe I am a little uncultured and immature.
Theo indicates for us to cross the road, and I work hard to keep my cringe internal. Aside from not particularly enjoying the food, I don’t want to spend a night with Theo in a place where bad memories of Blake will inevitably shadow us. Plus, there is always the unlikely, but still possible, risk of running into Blake. Maybe even Katie, too, if they’re still hooking up.
“We’re here,” Theo announces. Dread seeps into my stomach as I look up and see that we’re standing right outside of Blake’s favorite restaurant. “It’s the best Mexican food I’ve ever had aside from the foodinMexico, so I promise that it’s worth the wait.”
Relief washes over me as I realize we’re waiting in a small line for the restaurant next door, not entering the one we’ve stopped in front of, and I chide myself for doubting him.
“This is perfect.” I want to squeal and jump into his arms, but I settle for the appreciation I can show without stepping too far outside my comfort zone: a warm smile and gratitude shining.
Theo grins. “Just wait until you take your first bite of their loaded chicken nachos.”
“I’ll probably have the most intense food-gasm any girl has ever had. I’ll probably have to get down on my knees for you after.” The words are out before I notice the innuendo.
Theo’s mouth drops open, literallydropsopen as the words which just tumbled from my mouth turn into a flashing neon sign in my mind.
Get. On. My. Knees.
“I, I, uh, I meant getting on my knees tothankyou, like aworship…okay, I’m making it worse. I didn’t mean it like that.”
A blush creeps up my neck, covering every inch of skin up to my scalp before Theo finally frees himself from his stupefaction and bursts into laughter, giving me a little wink. “Of course not.”
It doesn’t escape me that Theo didn’t seem to mind the suggestionhadI meant it, but I’m in dangerous waters, toeing this line of friendship with him. A mental affirmation is in order, and I make one. Or four.
I won’t take it any further tonight. No more teasing. No more touching. No more innuendos.
This ever-present pull between us has gotten stronger. Theo has been a good friend to me. Ishouldtrust him, and maybe it seems ridiculous that I’m still not sure if I do. But beyond that, I don’t trustmyself. Iwantto let him in. Iwantto trust him. Then, that voice in the back of my head pipes up.
What if it turns out to be just another bad choice in my portfolio of bad choices? What if taking this leap becomes the thing that breaks me beyond repair?
The voice is silenced when we finally get a table, and wow, he was not overselling this place. While we wait for our food, I admire the authentic Mexican décor and live music which emanates from a band in the corner. Fresh tortilla chips and pico de gallo are placed on our table, my mouth instantly watering.
Our food arrives just as I’ve reached the bottom of the basket, and it’s a moment that alters my very makeup. The nachos are nothing short offuckingphenomenal.
“Theo. You’ve ruined my life.”
He stops chewing his burrito. “How?”
“Now that I know this place is here, I’m going to spend all my money on gas and food to have it.”
Theo smiles around his mouth full. “We can carpool.”
After another bite layered with the perfect amount of toppings, I moan so loudly that other tables send us curious glances. The better version of me, which comes out a little more each time I’m with Theo, takes over, as I lean in. “You’d think a girl could get some privacy for her food-gasm.”
I’m awarded with another laugh. Not sure where this person has been hiding, but I love her. Having never made anyone laugh besides Dad, every grin and chuckle becomes something novel for me, a gift for the girl who isn’t afraid to put some of her humor into the world.
“Maybe if you take your nachos to the bathroom, you’ll have some more privacy tofinish.” Theo’s eyes dance, flirtation laced through his words.
A clever comeback (which sends my earlier affirmation about innuendos straight to the back of my mind) burns my tongue just as my phone starts to ring.
Saved by the bell. “Sorry, let me just check who it is.”
Do Not Answer
Dad’s lawyer, again. I’ve been dodging his emails and letters for weeks, so I guess he’s resorted to calling me at all hours of the day in an attempt to get a hold of me.
“Do you need to take that?”
