Page 55 of A Minute More

I take an extra-large bite of my hamburger, trying not to appear like an ogre as I eat, but failing miserably. He’s seen my poor table manners once and he still kisses me like I’m the air he breathes. This current display of barbarism won’t deter him much.

“So, um, what about you? You have parents?”

The way he asks this, awkward and yet so innocent makes me laugh slightly. Bits of food fly out of my mouth, and I wipe them away, feeling embarrassed for being such a dude when he eats so politely.

Swallowing, I swipe at my mouth. “Yeah, mom and sister, remember? You saw the picture of them. Dad left when I was four. Never saw him again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But I don’t really miss what I never had. My mom is awesome. And so is Poppy…”

Suddenly, an idea springs into my head. “You know what? I’m going out to see them this weekend. You should come.”

Simon shakes his head and then takes a quick sip of his milkshake. “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You’d have fun. We’re going to go to a fair. And they’re not too far. An hour away at most.”

Not sure if that’s enticing to him, but he just nods. “Can I think about it?”

“Yeah, man. You can.”

He smiles softly and continues to eat while I ask questions about him that I’ve been dying to know.

“Where did you go to high school?”

“In Davenport.”

My eyebrows rise. “And you moved here? This is way smaller.”

He nods. “Yeah. But not by much, and I always wanted to get away from it all.”

I nod and then lean back in the booth, my mind churning. “Yeah, I went to a small high school too. And then went to college at Iowa State. Where did you go?”

He freezes and then shakes his head. “I um, got a scholarship but never went.”

Shit, the picture online. I wanna know it all. “Ah, man. That sucks. Why?”

“I just…for reasons I can’t explain.”

I don’t know if that means he can’t explain because he doesn’t know what happened or if he just can’t tell me. So, once again, I let it go. Picking up my milkshake, I drag the straw out and put it between my lips so I can lick off the whipped cream. That’s the best part, in my opinion.

Simon’s eyes catch the movement, his ears pinkening, his cheeks stained red as I lick and suck my way up the straw. Initially, I don’t mean it to be sexual, but as soon as I catch him looking, I exaggerate it a bit more. I am sex personified.

When I finally put the straw down, Simon looks ready to bolt. Out the door or onto my lap. But before he can make a move, snickers drag our eyes to the side and we see some teen kids eyeing us with mirth.

Yeah, I know the type. Been there, done that. One day they’ll meet a guy like Simon and wonder why the fuck they were ever such assholes. Trust me on this, kids. You better stop hating those you may one day come to love.

“Ready to go?” I ask, and Simon nods, the two of us sliding out of the booth and grabbing our trash, dumping it into the trashcan, and walking outside.

Just being out in the open space makes Simon loosen up a bit.

He rocks on his feet and peers up at me. “I should go home…”

“It’s still early,” I say, not wanting this to end. There are so many more friendly things we could do. I am the best of friends. “Want to hang out a bit more?”

I’m pushing my luck, but I’m rewarded when he nods and tells me to follow him home. And so I do, my body vibrating with excitement. I know more about him now, know a little about why he’s so reserved and cautious. It only makes me like him more.

I don’t want to be just friends.

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