She stands, walks over to the music player, and slides her card. She starts tapping through the selections and then picks a song. A few seconds later, “Shut up and Dance” by Walk the Moon begins playing through the speaker. She walks back over, putting out her hand.
“Come on,” she says.
“We can’t dance in Waffle House,” I argue.
“No one is here,” she says, looking around. “Now come on; get up.” She grabs my hand and pulls me from the booth.
She begins to dance, and I just shake my head.
“Dance with me, Tanner,” she says, her mouth forming a heart-stopping grin.
I begin to move my feet, and when her smile grows bigger, I let all of my insecurities disappear.
For the rest of the song, we dance around like we’re two little kids. It’s pure silliness, and with every move, all the negativity about my dad and my day melts away. It’s just her and me, and nothing else matters. The music fades, and we both have to wipe the tears streaming down our faces from laughing so hard. We turn to sit back down, and the waitress is standing with our food, completely unamused and scowling.
“Sorry,” Wren says, giggling and sliding into the booth.
“I’ve seen some weird shit here, but that might’ve been the weirdest,” the waitress deadpans, setting our plates on the table before turning to walk away.
Another giggle bubbles out of Wren, and she slaps her hand across her mouth.
“You’re gonna get us kicked out of here,” I say, shaking my head.
She begins to butter her waffle and then pours syrup all over the top. I watch her with amazement.
“What?” she says, catching my eye.
I shrug.
“Come on. I know me pouring syrup on my waffle is not that interesting. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, it’s just I’m not used to someone listening to my family stuff and trying to cheer me up. Thank you for the dance.”
“Of course. Dancing always makes things better.” She smiles from across the table and then takes a bite of her food.
She’s right. Dancing with Wren Dawson could make anything better, and I hope I’ll get the chance to do it again.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” I say, after buttering and adding syrup to my waffle. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pull out a bag of mini marshmallows. “Look what I snuck in.”
She shakes her head, and her whole face lights up. “And you said I was going to get us kicked out. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I think I’ve told you I pay attention.”
The slightest shade of pink warms her cheeks, and I hand her the bag. She adds a handful to the top of her waffle, and then without asking does the same to mine.
“Thank you,” she says. “Now try it—you're going to love it.”
She watches me with anticipation as I take a large bite.
“Wow,” I say around all the sugar. “That’s good.”
“Told you,” she says, clapping her hands. And in that moment, I fall a little bit harder.
CHAPTER 19: YOU’RE INCREDIBLE
TANNER
Ifucking hate Mondays. I ignored my gym alarm, and I’ve been laying in bed for the last thirty minutes, trying to will myself to get up and ready for work, but it’s no use. All I’ve accomplished in a half hour is creating a list of thirty things I’d rather do than go to work and most of them include Wren, which is probably unhealthy.
