The Dating Debate (Dating Dilemma)

by Chris Cannon

  If I wasn’t before, I sure as hell was now, if for no other reason than to wipe the smug smile off West’s obnoxiously handsome face. “Yes. Yes, I am. He just asked me. Isn’t that the funniest thing?”

  Cole looked around at all of us like he wasn’t sure if we were telling the truth or lying through our teeth. Vicky cleared her throat and smiled at him.

  He shrugged. “Okay then. Vicky, do you want to go to the dance?”

  “I’d love to,” she said. “Why don’t we go grab a hot chocolate somewhere so we can talk.”

  “Sure.” He followed her out to their cars.

  Jason looked at me and then at West like he was trying to figure something out. After a minute, he shrugged like he didn’t understand and didn’t really care. “Food’s getting cold.” He headed back to our house.

  “He’s right.” Plus I was freezing, since I hadn’t stopped to grab my coat. “Let’s go talk about the dance over fried rice.”

  “We’re not actually going to the dance,” West said.

  Oh, how wrong he was. “Nope. You said it. You put it out into the universe that we were going to the dance, so we’re going.”

  “Now you sound like Luna Lovegood.”

  I laughed and ran back over to my house. The fact that West was fluent in Harry Potter made him even more attractive than he’d been before.

  He didn’t follow immediately, but something told me he would, just to argue his case. I’d been keeping an eye on West since we moved in, spinning fantasies in my head about the hot, brooding son of the landlord falling for the hippy-chick bookworm renting the house next door to him. Not that I thought it would ever happen, but hey, a girl can dream.

  Back in the kitchen, I grabbed a carton of fried rice and ate straight from the box.

  My mom pointed at the dishes she’d set on the table. “Use a plate.”

  Jason had ditched the plate he’d used earlier and was eating straight from a box, as he sat on the couch watching television. I’m not sure why I had to use a plate. It wasn’t worth arguing about, so I did as she asked. “Surprise plot twist in my life,” I told my mom. “West asked me to the Valentine’s Dance.”

  “That sounds like fun,” she said. “Do we need to go shopping for a dress?”

  I loathed shopping. Normally, I felt pretty good about myself. But nothing made me feel chunky and pale like trying on clothes under fluorescent lights in front of full-length mirrors. “No. I’m sure I have something I can wear.”

  “Come in,” I heard Jason shout from the other room.

  West came walking into the kitchen, his fabulous blue eyes laser focused on me. “We should talk.”

  “You should eat,” my mom said, shoving a carton at him. She stood and wiped her hands with a napkin. “I have a hot date with a book. I’ll see you two later.”

  “So reading runs in the family,” West said.

  “Yes. Except for my brother. I’m 60 percent sure he’s adopted.”

  “So, this whole dance thing?” West picked up a fork, took a bite of rice, and stared at me like he was waiting for me to give him an easy out. Not going to happen. Mess with a smart girl and suffer the consequences.

  “You started it,” was the most amusing response I could come up with.

  “No.” He shook his head as if trying to emphasize his response. “You started it when you invited me in for dinner.”

  “Why? Because I knew you’d rather eat dirt than join us for rice? That’s your fault for being a suck-up and carrying my mom’s food.”

  “I was being nice,” he shot back.

  “No good deed goes unpunished.” I batted my eyelashes at him. “Besides, I was going to help her before you rushed over.”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “So I shouldn’t have helped your mom, but it’s okay for you to shove Cole off on Vicky.”

  “Please. He’s a nice guy. She’ll fall for him…maybe because he’s the total opposite of you.”

  He pointed his fork at me. “Where do you get off judging me?”

  “I’m not judging you. I meant you’re all black-leather-jacket-brooding loner guy, and he’s Mr.-Happy-Sunshine-everyone-is-my-friend.”

  “Fine. Mr. Sunshine is out of the way now, so there’s no need for us to go to the dance.”

  “Nice try,” I said. “We’re going to the dance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you said we were,” I said. “And lying is never acceptable. Don’t stress about this. I’m not proposing we run off to Mexico and get matching his-and-her tattoos. We’ll just go to the dance together. No big deal.”

  “Right. Nothing is ever that simple.”

  I walked over to the cabinet and pulled out two mini Hershey bars. I held one out to him. “While I am enjoying this argument, I have to cut it short.”

  He looked at the chocolate bar and then back at my face. “What?”

  “Oh dear.” I smiled. “I’ve confused you. Allow me to recap. I like debating. The chocolate is for you because all meals should end in chocolate, and I have to go because I’m going to the bookstore.”

  He made no move to accept the chocolate, so I placed it in his shirt pocket and patted his chest…because why not. “There you go.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “My brother has tried that argument. He always loses. Quick question. Do you read mostly paper or ebook?”

  “Do you try to give people conversational whiplash? Or are you incapable of maintaining a topic?”

  Be still my heart, he’s playing my game. “If a person can’t keep up, they should consider upping their caffeine consumption.” I smiled at him. “Now back to my question. Paper or digital?”

  “I read almost everything on my Kindle or my cell.”

  “I love my Kindle, but I like paper books, too. Sometimes, I buy the paper books to keep on my shelf and read the ebook instead.”

  “Why?”

  “What if there’s an EMP blast that destroys all digital content? You’d have nothing to read. And that would be a true apocalypse scenario. Plus, I like the way books smell.”

  “Right. I’m going to take my rice and go. Have fun buying things that will collect dust on your shelves.”

  “So negative. You should try to relax.”

  Chapter Four

  West

  Time for me to make my escape. Nina might be cute and funny, but she was oddly confrontational. I didn’t need that in my life. I didn’t need her judging me, or her crazy dog barking at me.

  There was a reason Gidget didn’t like me. She saw what I did late at night in the backyard. Thank God dogs couldn’t talk, or I’d be in a world of trouble. Sometimes, you had to take things into your own hands, but I wasn’t sure the fire department or my father would see it that way.

  My cell buzzed with a text. It was my dad. Great. He was working late and wanted me to make sure to fix dinner for my mom. I glanced at the boxes of fried rice. “Since you have so much, I’m going to take an extra box for my mom.”

  “You have a mom?”

  “Everyone has a mom,” I said.

  “Touché.” She nodded like she was awarding me a point. “What I meant was I didn’t know your mom lived with you. I’ve never seen her.”

  Time to spin my well-practiced web of lies. “She doesn’t leave the house much.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s sick, and I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “Oh.” Her demeanor changed from captain of the debate team to a concerned, normal person. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No.”

  “I could bring her some books,” Nina said.

  Like I’d said earlier, nothing was ever simple. I pulled out the line that usually made people uncomfortable enough to back off. “The doctors say it’s best to keep visitors and outside items to a minimum due to her condition.”

  Nina reached over and put her hand on my forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” I
stood, intent on avoiding any more questions, but I needed to make sure she wouldn’t just pop over. “What’s your number?”

  She rattled off her cell number. I dialed it to make sure she’d have my number in her phone. “If, for some random reason you want to get ahold of me, like if you come to your senses and realize we aren’t going to the dance, text or call. Don’t come over to my house and knock, ever, because you might wake up my mom.”

  “Is that why your dad wants us to put the rent check in that weird mailbox on the shed?”

  “That, plus he’s antisocial.” No reason to lie about that. They’d met the man.

  “Okay, then. I’ll go with the not-waking-your-mom-up reason because that makes a lot more sense. There’s one more thing before you go.” She held her arms out. “You’re getting a hug whether you want one or not.”

  Not happening. I tried to walk around her. “That’s not necessary.”

  She blocked my path. “If you argue, I’ll call my mom in here and she’ll insist on hugging you, too. We’re a hugging family. It’s what we do.”

  “You can’t argue with someone and then hug them.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  She didn’t seem to be backing down. “I don’t need or want a hug.”

  “Right. Your dad acts like former military, and you just told me your mom was ill.”

  She stood there holding her arms out.

  “Don’t you have to get to the bookstore?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.” She moved in and put her arms around me, squeezing me tight. And she wasn’t trying to put a move on me, which was mildly insulting.

  “I won’t stop hugging until you hug me back,” she warned.

  “You’re one of the strangest people I’ve ever met.” I hugged her back, which wasn’t a hardship. After all, she was soft and warm and smelled nice.

  After a few seconds, she released me and stepped away. “I prefer to think of myself as interesting. Don’t forget your rice.”

  No way was I letting her get the last word in. “Why did your mom buy so much food? And why just shrimp fried rice? Most people buy a variety.”

  “No matter what else she buys we fight over the shrimp fried rice, so that’s all she bothers with now. And she overbuys because she likes to feed people. It’s a nurturing thing.”

  “I guess that goes along with hugging?” I said. “Does she like to argue with people, too?”

  “No, but anyone who walks in the door will more than likely be fed and hugged. So, fair warning.”

  There were worse things in the world. “Maybe you should have that printed on a welcome mat so people won’t be surprised.” I grabbed the cartons of rice, and that’s when I noticed Gidget lying by the front door. “Your dog isn’t giving me the evil eye anymore.”

  “She saw that I trusted you, so now she probably trusts you, too.”

  “Okay. This has been interesting. We’re not going to the dance, and I’ll see you later.”

  She laughed. “Yes, you’re wrong, and of course we will because we live next door to each other.”

  Nina followed me to the front door and closed it behind me.

  What a bizarre day. I crossed over the shared driveway through the yard to my front door. I opened it with my key, being careful not to swing the door too wide, so I wouldn’t knock anything over. After making sure it was locked behind me, I walked down the narrow path between the boxes my mother had filled and stacked floor to ceiling in the entryway and the living room. You couldn’t even see the furniture anymore because it was buried under all the boxes. Even though my father had insisted on putting everything in Rubbermaid containers, the smell of mildew and dust permeated the air.

  Once I hit the hallway to the kitchen, the smell faded but didn’t completely go away. I opened the window above the sink and turned on the small desk fan that sat in front of it to encourage air movement.

  Our kitchen still looked fairly normal since my dad refused to let my mom bring anything into it because of the possible fire hazard. I dumped rice into a bowl for my mom and set it on the table. Then I grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and drank half of it. Okay. I can do this. Steeling myself, I entered the hallway that led to her bedroom and wedged myself through the slender opening, which was all that was left of her doorway. “Hello, Mom.”

  She smiled at me like all was right in her world. Like she wasn’t sitting on a pile of twisted-up bed sheets surrounded by storage tubs stacked one on top of another, lining the walls and taking up most of the rest of the room except for a small perimeter around the bed and closet. “Hello, sweetie. How was your day?”

  “Good. I brought you some shrimp fried rice for dinner. It’s in the kitchen.”

  “Oh.” She played with the edge of the frayed blanket in her lap. “Can’t you just bring it in here?”

  “No.” I’d learned not to argue. “It’s waiting for you on the table.”

  She stood, hugging a pillow to her chest. “Can I take one pillow?”

  “Sure, Mom.” I backed out, turned around, and was relieved when I heard her following after me. We sat at the glass-top table, and I braced myself in preparation for the awkward small talk I felt obligated to make.

  “I saw you, out the window,” my mom said.

  That was new. “What did you see?”

  “You were talking to the daughter of the renter next door.” She pointed toward their house like I wouldn’t know who she was referring to.

  “Her name is Nina.”

  “Do you like her?” my mom asked.

  “Her family is odd.” I laughed. “Just a different kind of odd from ours.”

  She reached across the table and laid her hand on top of mine, giving it a quick squeeze. “I know your dad seems rigid in his beliefs sometimes, but he always has your best interests at heart.”

  My father. Right. He’s the problem. “I know.”

  She ate a few bites of rice. “I’d like to meet Nina. You should invite her over for dinner one night.”

  Not going to happen for the obvious reasons. Plus, she’d probably start an argument and then insist on hugging everyone. “Dad wouldn’t like that.”

  “I know the house is a bit of a mess.” She pushed her hair behind her ear, like she was suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. “I guess we could straighten up a little bit.”

  With a backhoe and Dumpster, maybe. “Let’s put that plan on hold until I decide if I even like her, okay?”

  Chapter Five

  Nina

  I sat at the cafe in the back of the bookstore, drinking a caramel macchiato while Lisa looked at me bug-eyed. “Oh my God. You’re dating West? The brooding hottie of Greenbrier High School?”

  I wiped whipped cream off my upper lip. “It’s not like we’re actually dating.”

  “It’s not like you’re not dating,” Lisa said.

  “Interesting way to look at it. So I’m not not-dating West, which makes me not-not his girlfriend, which sounds like some sort of double speak from a dystopian novel.”

  “It does,” she said, “and I can’t believe he’s fluent in Harry Potter.”

  “I’m sure anyone living in that house needs the escapism of books.” I told her about West’s mom. “I never knew he had a mom, much less that she was ill. I guess he doesn’t tell a lot of people.”

  “So I won’t share,” Lisa said.

  “His house doesn’t sound like a fun place to live,” I said.

  “Your house is like a hippie commune by comparison. I bet it drives his antisocial dad crazy.”

  “We’re probably the calmest renters he could find,” I said.

  Lisa nodded. “Bookworm hippies aren’t known for destroying property.”

  “As long as you leave our books alone and don’t interrupt our flow of coffee and chocolate, we are a peaceful bunch.”

  “Speaking of chocolate.” Lisa grabbed her wallet from her purse. “I think it’s cookie time.” She stood and headed back up to
the counter. A few minutes later, she returned with a heart-shaped Rice Krispies Treat decorated with pink and red M&M’s.

  “That is not a cookie.”

  “I don’t understand your prejudice against Rice Krispies Treats. They’re yummy, and this one has chocolate in it.” She plucked out an M&M and popped it into her mouth.

  “It’s a glorified cereal bar.”

  “No one said you had to eat any.”

  I grabbed my purse and pulled out a mini-chocolate bar. “Thankfully, I brought my own chocolate.”

  After we finished our food and drinks, we paid for our books and left the store.

  …

  Saturday morning, I woke up to the delicious scent of fried dough. Downstairs, I found my mom making cinnamon doughnuts out of canned biscuits.

  “Those smell wonderful.” I poured myself a glass of milk. “Any of them cool enough to eat?”

  “Not yet.” My mom used a slotted spoon to dip out the golden puffy balls and dropped them into a shallow bowl of cinnamon and sugar. “Roll those for me.”

  “Sure.” I coated the golden brown balls and then transferred them to another plate to cool.

  “So how’d things go with West yesterday?”

  “Pretty good. I think we could end up friends, if nothing else.”

  “He seems like he could use some friends,” my mom said. “That is one uptight household.”

  Should I tell my mom? “You can’t tell Jason, but I think I know why West and his dad are so…off-putting.”

  “Your brother won’t tell—”

  “I know you gave birth to him, and you love him, and so do I, but he is not to be trusted with sensitive information.” I’d never forgiven my brother for telling the entire world that I changed my eleventh birthday party from a pool party to a backyard barbecue because I’d gotten my period.

  “Fine.”

  “West didn’t give me any details, but it sounds like his mom is housebound and can’t have guests because of germs.”

  “That’s terrible.” My mom set the slotted spoon down. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “No, but it does explain the antisocial vibe that emanates from their house.”

  “That makes my heart hurt.” My mom picked up the spoon and scooped out more doughnuts. “You realize I’m going to have to try to find a way to help them.”