Slugger

23: Awkward Encounters

           

"I can't believe you lost," I tell Dante on Saturday night. He shrugs, seeming totally chill: if it wasn't for the way he was stabbing his chicken with his fork I would've thought he was okay. Alas, he just has a great poker face.

"It had to happen sometime, our winning streak was getting ridiculous," He says coolly, cutting up his food into little squares. I stare at him for about a minute before he looks up. "What?"

"You know you can vent about it to me," I tell him.

Dante puts his knife and fork down. "I'm fucking pissed,"

Ah, there we go.

He clears his throat. "We were winning! And then – literally, Max was doing nothing on the field today, I don't know why we didn't put him in the catcher's position after his breakup, it's what we normally do!"

I shake my head. "Let it out baby,"

He lowers his voice a considerable amount and I have to strain my ears to hear what he says next. "I nearly blew it on him, y'know. The last ball wasn't even a big hit, he really could've caught it but he didn't and his excuse was that he had no motivation."

"Wasn't winning enough motivation?" I ask as he resumes eating, looking totally fed up.

"Beats me." He sighs. "Whatever though, we still got to the semi-finals and I can't be bothered to stress about it anymore. Hey, this jerk chicken is so good,"

I peer at his plate and then take it upon myself to take a piece and try it. After chewing and swallowing, I nod approvingly. "It's good! Wow, I should've – what's wrong with your face?"

Dante is staring at me with his mouth open wide. "Why did you just steal my food?" He asks me slowly, once again putting his knife and fork down.

Steal? Psh. "I mean... You offered so I took," I explain and then go back to my own meal.

"When did I offer?!" He actually looks hurt.

"You said – and I quote –" I clear my throat and do my best to imitate his voice. "'Hey, this chicken is really good!'"

"Where in that sentence is there an invitation for this to happen?"

"You're being dramatic," I dismiss him and he picks up his cutlery once more.

"You're so lucky I like you," He mutters passively. I look down at my food, attempting to force my face to relax a little but it doesn't work and I'm stuck grinning like a maniac.

It's all good though because he pretty much has the same grin on his face.

*-8*-8*

"Okay, pink or green?" McKinley holds up two dresses, one of each colour. I sip on my milkshake, comparing the two colours before deciding on one.

"Definitely green," I say.

We all decided that the best way to spend our Sunday afternoon was to go shopping in the mall just outside town. We've been in H&M for an hour looking for an outfit for McKinley to wear for dinner; Tyler is napping on one of the seats meant for shoe shoppers and Jackie is chatting up a shop assistant. My mom and David disappeared when they realised that we were going to take a while.

"But the pink one is pink," She contemplates. I roll my eyes as Jackie comes back and holds my hand. "Jackie, I have a serious question. Which one is better, pink or green?"

He squirms. "Which did Kenny say?"

"She said green,"

"Go green." He says and then asks me if I still have games on my phone for him to play with. I sigh and begin the download process for Angry Birds.