Date Me, Bryson Keller(45)

“You know, now that you have a boyfriend, we can totally double-date,” Priya says.

“So is Bryson officially your boyfriend?” Donny asks.

“Well, I mean the dare ended today.” I shrug. “We haven’t really discussed it further than that.”

“You need to define the relationship,” Priya says. “Knowing you, if you don’t, you’ll be an anxious mess about it.”

“Yeah, ask him what’s up,” Donny says. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m very surprised that you, Kai Sheridan, asked Bryson out for the dare.” Priya laughs. “When I think about it, I can’t believe that we were all at the party when the dare started.”

    “Weren’t you the one who said Bryson had to be asked out first? And he had to agree to whomever it was?” Donny asks.

“Yes. That was me,” Priya says. She looks at me. “I’m like your very own fairy godmother. Cinderella who?”

“It’s funny the Friday afternoon school bell is meant to be my clock striking midnight.”

“Wait a minute. Does that make me a mouse?” Donny asks. “I don’t think I like this.”

“In some lights you do kind of look like a mouse,” I say.

“Ooh, burn,” Priya says.

“Hey, I’m your boyfriend. You should be defending me.”

I laugh.

“Squeak, squeak, where are we going?” Donny asks.

“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat,” Priya says.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

“How about…”

“Pizza,” we all say at the same time. Donny drives toward the boardwalk, where Angelo’s Pizza Emporium awaits. We find parking and climb from the Quackmobile. As soon as we enter Angelo’s, we are assaulted by the smell of all things good and pure in this world.

“God, that smells great!” I say.

“If they bottled this scent, I’d probably wear it.”

“No thank you,” Priya says. “No matter how much I love it, I do not want my boyfriend smelling like pizza.”

Angelo’s has a few booths that line the walls, as well as freestanding tables. We slide into one of the empty booths.

A server approaches us and hands out menus. They are green, white, and red—the colors of the Italian flag. The same colors are everywhere at Angelo’s: white walls, red chair cushions, green-patterned tiles.

    “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’ll have a banana milkshake,” I say.

“That’s kinda gross,” Priya says. “But you do you, Kai. I’ll have a Coke, please.”

“Make that two,” Donny says.

By the time the server returns with our drinks, we’re in a heated argument over toppings.

“We do this all the time,” Priya says. “But I am telling you pineapple does not belong on a pizza. This is my hill and I am willing to die on it.”

“But it’s so good,” Donny whines. “Kai, please, for once back me up.”

“You know where I stand on this.” But I smile at Donny and say to the server, “We’ll have a half and half, please. Half Hawaiian and half Margherita.”

Priya gasps and Donny looks up, surprised.

“What?”

“Traitor,” Priya says.

“You know you love me,” I say with a wink.

“Debatable.”

Donny holds up his hand for a high five.

It doesn’t take long for our pizza to come. Priya makes sure to keep away from the side with pineapple, and so do I. The only reason I ordered it was because of Donny. I just feel really thankful and grateful to them both for treating me like they did last week before they knew.

    I love my best friends.



* * *



? ? ?

By the time I get home, my cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Oh, you’re back,” Mom says as she heads toward the family room. I trail in after her to find the rest of my family sprawled in front of the television.

“Yeah,” I say. “But why is everyone else here so early?”

“We got called to Yazz’s school.”

“Again?” I look at my sister. She’s lying on the carpet, a sketch pad open before her.

“What did you do this time?”

Yazz sits up. “It really wasn’t my fault,” she says. “I kept telling Monica not to touch my hair, but she kept insisting on it. I don’t need to hear how surprised she is to find that it’s soft, and so I told her as much.” Yazz shakes her head. “I’m about this close to making a large sign to wear to school to tell people not to touch my hair.”

“Did you hit her?”

“No.”

“Then why were you called to the school?” I ask Mom and Dad.

“Because Monica started to cry,” Yazz answers instead. “I know my words can feel like a beatdown, but I was very patient with her. I didn’t want it to be this whole thing, but she had the nerve to cry.”

    “Good job,” I say. “You have to nip these things in the bud.”

“Yes, well done, Yazz,” Dad says.