“Not when someone is burning down my kitchen, wrecking ball.”
Her hands drop again. “Did you just call me wrecking ball? I’m not?—”
“Pizza or no?” I ask, biting back my smile.
“Sushi,” she answers, a challenge in her eye. “Because it’s my favorite, and I need a little pick-me-up.”
“Youneed a little pick-me-up?”
She shrugs.
“Fine. Sushi it is, but only if you promise to remember to shut the stove off next time,” I say, turning to leave.
“With extra eel sauce.”
“With extra eel sauce,” I repeat back, committing it to memory as Avery twists a piece of her hair around her finger until the tip turns purple. “You’re good though?”
“I will be once I get that sushi.”
“Sushi does heal all wounds.”
She nods toward the bandage on my arm. “Lucky you.”
“Lucky me.”
A smile splits her face as I back away. Something rushes through me like I’m prepping for a big game.
“Friend date!” She claps, any thrill I’d felt disappearing with each shrill blow.
“Frienddate?”
She looks like someone stole her pompoms. “We’re friends, yeah? I’m sorry. It’s probably too soon to label it. I thought?—”
“No, we can label it. I mean, we can call ourselves friends. Just haven’t heard of afriend datebefore. Never been asked on one, I guess.”
She beams up at me. “Well, consider this the first of many. At least for the next few months.”
“Our first friend date.” I try out the words, but they feel wrong. Not waiting for a reply, I head back upstairs to place an order on my phone. And grab a shirt.
It isn’t lost on me that Avery has just cobbled together what I’d probably consider the perfect date. The perfectregulardate. But she looks excited to have dinner with me, and that’s enough for now.
Avery snatches up the last piece of our shrimp tempura roll, pausing to stare at me over the coffee table.
“Go ahead,” I say.
She pops it into her mouth, moving it into her cheek as she chews. “Just didn’t want to be rude.” She chews a little more, then swallows. “Can’t be the one to take the last piece.”
“Nah. That’s all you.” I twist my soba noodles around afork and shovel the last few bites into my mouth. “I can’t eat any more after this.”
She sighs. “One time, at my sister’s sixth birthday party, I drank so much soda that my parents almost took me to the ER. The carbonation had medying.”
“You know, sometimes you say the most random things.”
“Sorry. I tend to do that.” She ducks her head. “I have ADHD. Don’t know if I told you that. I forget that some people think my topic hopping is annoying.”
“Definitely not annoying. Just a little random.”
Her eyes lift to mine. “There’s a thought process behind each random thing though, I promise.”
