But… she’d touched Aaron’s shoulder twice since we’d sat down. I’dcounted.
“The chicken and waffles is one of our bestsellers,” the woman answered Max’s question, her eyes settling on Aaron for a moment as her flirting smile turned into a coy one highlighted by her bubble gum pinklipstick.
Friends don’t get jealous when other friends get hit on,I remindedmyself.
“Lots of folks like the frog legs, too,” sheadded.
Froglegs?
“Frog legs?” I heard Mindy echo beneath her breath from her spot beside me, sounding just as horrified asIfelt.
“It’s a local favorite,” the waitress threw in, like that would make it sound more appetizing, with a bright smile aimed at theyoungergirl.
“I’ll take the chicken and waffles,” Des basically muttered with Brittany echoing that order, followed by me. Mindy and Aaron chose something with asandwich.
“I’ll take an order of frog legs,” Max piped up,grinning.
“Oh, gross, Max,” Mindymuttered.
“What?” He shrugged as he handed over the menu to the waitress with a wink before shebackedaway.
“That’sdisgusting.”
“I’m sure it’ll taste like chicken. Everything tastes likechicken.”
Even Brittany shook her head withan“Ugh.”
Max’s eyes met mine and I smiled at him shyly. “Everything does taste like chicken. I had gator once, tastes justlikeit.”
Mindy turned in her chair to look at me. “You’ve hadalligator?”
I nodded. “I had sheep’sheadonce.”
“Youwhat?”
“In Iceland. Our tour guide didn’t tell me what it was and I tried it. I’d never eat it again, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever had,” Iexplained.
Mindy was looking at me with a horrified expression on her face, her fingers picking at the napkin she had rolled up. “What was the worst?” she asked hesitantly, like she didn’t really want to know the answer but couldn’t helpherself.
Fidgeting with my hands on my lap, I smiled and looked over at Aaron who was watching me. “I’ve had cow tongue a few times. That was goodactually—”
“Cow tongue?” that wasBrittany.
“Yeah. They sell it all over the place in Houston. I’ve haddinuguan—”
“What’s that?” Maxasked.
I scrunched up my nose, remembering eating that way too clearly. “It’s a Filipino dish that my dad made me try. Its pig intestines, kidneys, lungs, heart, and the snout cooked in itsblood—”
At least four of them said a variation of “eww” that mademegrin.
“I know. My dad claimed it was dessert, like pudding. He loves it. I can’t eat pudding anymore because of that, no matter what coloritis.”
“I’m not going to be able to eat pudding anymore after that….” Mindytrailedoff.
“That’s not the worst,” I started to say before I shut my mouth. “Never mind. I’m just going to stop now. I don’t want to ruinanyone’sfood.”
“There’s something more gross than that?” Brittanyasked.
