Page 41 of The ABCs of You & Me

“Just two friends supporting another friend,” I say, really emphasizing the ‘friends’ part.

Thankfully the server arrives with our food, and Jessica recognizes it’s time to go back to her table. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. Have fun!” She raises both hands and gestures while mouthing “Nice work” as she backs away with me shaking my head at her, desperately trying to tell her she’s got it wrong.

“Tomorrow is going to be fun.” I giggle nervously, cutting into the poached egg sitting atop a mountain of buttery mushrooms.

“Hey,” Foster says, reaching over to touch my hand, pulling my attention back to him. “We’re allowed to be friends, Soph. Half the staff knew we were at the concert the other night.”

“I know, and I’m very happy to be friends with you.” I wonder how many more times I can say that we’re friends before it starts sounding like I’m trying too hard.

He gives me a strange look that I almost miss before looking down longingly at his food and back at me. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“And make you wait even longer for food? No. Besides, have you seen this?” I point down at my food as the yolk spills down the mountain of mushrooms like a luscious volcano. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted something so badly.”

I’m practically drooling as I jab my fork into my food and take a bite. I think I moan while I chew with my eyes closed because when I open them Foster’s lips are slightly parted and he’s staring at me, hunger blazing in his eyes. His mouth closes, and I watch him swallow before blinking rapidly and looking down at his own dish.

“I can’t remember a time either,” he says quietly and I have to assume he means the food. He has to mean the food because we are just friends and he’s very hungry.

It soon becomes easy to slip back into our pre-Jessica conversation which doesn’t last long because the opening bars to“Poker Face” by Lady Gaga blasts through the speakers.

“Here we go.” Foster grins right before I look up to see a queen stomp out in a silver-sequined bodysuit and what looks to be an entire peacock on her head.

“That was incredible,” I say to Foster’s friend Lucas, drag name Della Licious. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat brunch any other way going forward.”

“Turned another one.” Della shimmies with joy. “The bigots are going to be very upset.”

“That’s my favorite way to see them,” Foster quips, leaning back in his chair and taking a long sip of his third coffee.

“What are you two beautiful humans doing after this?” Della asks, running her hand through Foster’s hair. While I know they’re friends, jealousy pings from somewhere deep inside.

“I was actually going to see if Foster wanted to come for dinner. My mom’s in town and is making lasagna.” I watch Foster’s eyes widen for a split second before he leans forward. Della’s hand falls away as he does, leaving his hair a little messy. It’s a good look. It would be an even better look if my hand had been the one to mess it up.

Stop it.

“Does she still make that tomato sauce?” he asks dreamily.

I nod. “Every year.”

“Well, Della, I have a date with layers of pasta, cheese, and sauce.”

“How does a queen get an invite to such a dinner?” Della asks, eyelashes batting at me.

Della is lovely, but hell no, Foster is mine tonight. For dinner. Just for dinner. “I’ll see if my mom will make one when I go home for Easter, and I’ll host a dinner,” I say to Della, who does a little happy clap.

“Should we get going?” Foster asks.

It’s now two, which means my mom should be arriving soon, and knowing her, she’ll be early.

“Yeah, probably best, I’d like to be home when my mom arrives.”

“Should I come now or…” Foster asks, standing in front of our cars.

“Oh, well…” I hadn’t really thought about the in between now and when we’d actually be consuming lasagna.

Foster starts to say he can go home as I tell him to come on over.

“Okay, so I’ll follow you then.” He nods toward my car, and I have to actively suppress the need to squee about Foster Walsh coming over to my house.

TWENTY-ONE

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