Dallas (Time for Tammy Book 1)

Chapter 4: A Horse of Course

Now that the Dadian—aka Nester—knew exactly who Jane was, there was no excuse for us to not meet for dinner. The next day, Jane and I repeated the previous day's primping for hours beforehand. Linda also decided to join us at the last minute, although she didn't bother to change out of her pink oversized Tinkerbell T-shirt and rolled-up khaki shorts.

This time when Nester entered the cafeteria, he waved to us and then sat down next to Jane after getting food. He acted much friendlier than his appearance and first impression would predict. He told us he expected Number Two and Two's roommate, mentioning them both by name: Two's name was actually Ian, and his roommate's name was Dallas.

"Oh, I know Dallas," Linda piped up. "He's in my Heritage class."

"Who's Dallas again?" I asked.

"Him," Nester said, indicating the blue-eyed boy who was now walking toward us.

The guy named Dallas sat down at the table, nodding at Linda as he said "Hi, Pam."

Nester glared at him. "It's not Pam, dumbass. It's..." he turned toward my roommate.

"Linda," she supplied.

"And this is Jane," he said, gesturing toward her. "And this is..."

"Tammy," Dallas said.

Whoa. He can't remember Linda's name even though she's in his class, so how did he know my name? We've never met before. I decided it must be because his roommate, Number Two/Ian, had already confessed his undying love toward me.

Dallas picked at the food on his tray in silence. His plate appeared to contain pepper strips from the salad bar with nothing else, not even lettuce. The glass sitting next to it held some sort of purple liquid. He didn't say anything else, although I felt him glance in my direction at least once. He left after devouring a couple of peppers and draining his glass of purple juice.

Jane and I were engrossed in Nester's conversation about playing basketball in Trinidad when I suddenly became aware of a tray being held in my peripheral vision. I looked up. Ian was standing there, seemingly bathed in a halo of light. He asked if he could sit down, in the seat next to Jane.

"No," Nester said meanly. "You sit there," and pointed to the end of the table, two chairs away from anyone else. Ian did as he was told.

Jane was digging in to her dessert when Ian finally spoke up. He asked her what kind of pie she was eating.

"It's Boston Cream Pie," she replied.

"Oh really? Are you from Boston?" he asked.

"No," she replied slowly, enunciating every word as she glanced at me. "Rhode Island."

"Oh."

Jane gave me a muffled smile, and I could see she was thinking, "Is this guy for real?"

Okay, so he was dumb, but he was still cute.

Ian pointed to his disgusting pile of food. "This is a horseshoe. It's what people from the Midwest eat." The mess appeared to be cheese fries piled on top of a hamburger patty.

Now was my chance to finally speak up. "I'm from Michigan, and I've never seen that thing in my life," I offered in my best flirtatious voice.

"Horseshoe? You've never seen a horseshoe before?" Despite the fact that his mouth was full of the aforementioned French fries, I could detect the hint of a southern accent as he pointed at his food, his fingers covered in ketchup. My attempt to flirt apparently went over his tall frame.

He took a swig from his glass and swallowed audibly. "What part of Michigan are you from?"

"The suburbs."