"I've always been very scholarly."
The smile on her face shows me that she's not telling me everything.
"Who was your first boyfriend?"
"Donny Bianchi. I wasn't allowed to actually have a boyfriend until I was sixteen, so I had suitors, but once I reached the age I jumped in with both feet. It lasted about a week, then I caught him flirting with another girl from our class. So I dumped his ass."
"Were you sad about breaking up with him?"
"Are you kidding me? I wanted revenge. I talked to the girl, and she strung him along. When she said she'd be his girl she waited a week and did the same thing to him that he did to me. It was glorious. We became good friends after that."
"You've got a mean bone in that body of yours."
"He had it coming. What about you?"
I think about my own shenanigans girlfriend-wise and decide to allow myself to share that information with her. It's only fair that she gets bits of me at the same time I get bits of her.
"I was seven. She was ten. I pulled her pigtails; she gave me the red velvet cupcake her mom had put in her lunchbox. It lasted for about a month because her mother kept giving her the same delicious cupcakes. When mom started putting cookies in the lunchbox instead, I knew it was over between us."
"What an opportunist!"
"What's that saying about love and a man's stomach? Well, they're right."
"Are you still food motivated? I'm asking for a friend."
I give her a wicked smile and watch her as she takes a sip of her cocoa. Her lips are plump and the color of a dark pink rose, just right for kissing.
"That's me. Do you do any cooking?"
"Am I applying for a position?"
"Actually, I taught myself to cook. I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."
"Oh, wow. I'm starting to think you are a catch. So long as I keep you in red velvet cupcakes, that is."
"Exactly."
We've both been mindlessly petting Buddy between us, and that seems to have resolved the trembling issue. I swear this dog is going to break my heart.
"Emma, why do you think people do things like this? I mean, why even get a dog if you don't have the means or the will to take care of it?"
"There are all types of people in this world, Tristan. You can't let it get to you."
"Can't I? Look at this poor little guy. He could have died out there tonight."
"But he didn't. You found him and brought him here for help."
"I'm not giving him back to that owner."
"Don't get all worked up. Did you take pictures of how he was tied down?"
"Yeah. I knew I'd need evidence if I was going to remove him from there."
"Can I see?"
"Maybe you shouldn't. It's not pretty."
I see her struggle with the need to see the evidence and the pain that is watching this little guy suffering once again.
