“6750, Starbucks, eight-ish…?” Stefanie said as soon as I
answered the phone the following afternoon, Friday the 13th.
“What?” I asked my head still daze from lack of sleep from spending
the night before at Francis’.
“Tonight, we are to meet,” she said.
“Oh yah,” I said… remembering she wanted to go out just to watch
over me and prevent me to going to Degree and try to see Nick, “I
can’t…”
“What? Why?” she asked.
“Francis and I made plans…” I lied.
“Oh…” she just said, “Then could I come with… so I could meet
him already…”
“Ah no…”
“Why not…?” she asked, teasing.
“First, I don’t need a chaperon, second, we might do what you are
thinking,” be intimate, “third, I don’t want you to meet him…”
“Why not?” suddenly upset, she asked.
“Well… remember when I told you I cooked him dinner…”
“Yah…”
“I said it was nothing… we were just both hungry and there were no
cook food… it was nothing but then I realized he was the first guy I cooked
for…”
“Okay…?” still not understanding.
“I never cooked for anyone outside the family tree, Stef,” I said,
“I have not cook for anyone in particular, not even you, my friends… in our
parties before back in high school, I just assist in cooking but not the one
really cooking…”
“So…?”
“He was the first guy I cooked for… and I don’t love him… I
like him but that’s it…”
“What does that have to do with me meeting him…”
“I never introduced anyone to you or any other friend for that
matter…” I said, “he would be the first guy encase…”
“I see…” she said, enlightened.
“I know it’s nothing… but…”
“I understand…” she said, “Anyway I actually don’t feel like
going out tonight, I was just thinking…”
“Thank you…” I said.
“Well, enjoy the night…”
“I intend to…”
