Chapter 7: Rachel

As dinner began, dad and Mr. Strong were talking about their high school days: dad rehashing his player stories. I've viewed my father as a conservative man, it was strange hearing that he used to be a player, how he met mom when she was spewing chunks in the toilet. Hearing the adults reminisce, they were warped back in time as teenagers, it caused me to raise my eyebrows and widen my eyes.

The subject changed to us, both of our parents asked what we wanted to study in university. I was already settled on what I wanted: Biology and English Literature. Andrew was interested in Graphic Design. Interesting, he hasn't told me that before. I didn't even know he could draw. Ripping into my dinner roll, he took it right out of my hand.

"Thank you." He shoved the two halves in my mouth. I deeply breathed, taking another one. He looked like he was gonna be mildly annoying tonight. I swiped one more from the basket and took a bite, chewing furiously on the buttery pastry.

"Can you pass the salad, please?" I asked.

"Sure thing, Ray Ray," he responded. That nickname again. I ignored the flutters in my stomach.

"Do not call me that." Reaching across the table, he handed me the bowl. I took it, scooping some on my plate.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked.

"What?" I questioned raising one eyebrow.

"Your manners."

"No," I grinned tightly, placing it back on the table.

"You must have forgot them."

"I must have." I bit into my food slowly, eyes on the plate, I felt Andrew's eyes on me as I ate. I cut into my meatloaf, clenching my jaw. My focus was on my meal for the rest of the night.

I volunteered to get dessert after dinner was over, rocky road ice cream, and gave everyone a bowl. I plopped his bowl on his lap, drops of ice cream landed on his chin and shirt. "Oops," I innocently said with a fake smile, sitting in my seat. I caught his glare before tucking my head down to eat my ice cream, hiding my smirk.

Conversations about the headline news from the adults I tuned out as I ate. Three of us sat on the small brown couch. Andrew's younger sister rubbed the frozen treat all over her face while eating. I giggled, she reminded me of my nine-year-old nephew. Her mom wiped it away with her napkin.

Andrew had to move in close when Lydia moved in, I scooted away as I ate my dessert slowly. He scooted closer, I sighed carefully, spooning the frozen treat in my mouth. Our knees touched, I moved it swiftly.

"May I get some more ice cream?" Lydia asked sweetly.

"Me too," Andrew spoke.

"Of course. Rachel, please get them some more," mom instructed.

"Sure." I stood up taking their bowls and headed to the kitchen. I plopped them on the counter. I grabbed the tub out of the freezer in a hard smack and began to scoop some. Hearing footsteps behind me I turned around. Lydia with wide eyes was staring at me, her brother was right behind her.

"Oh," I giggled while scooping one more in her bowl. "Here you go." I smiled, handing her the bowl.

"Thank you." She took her dessert and skipped away.

"Lyds, no running," Andrew directed. I turned back scooping some in his.

"How many scoops do you want?" I asked him.

"Three," he answered. His steps came closer, he leaned against the counter next to me. His arm near mine, smelling his strong cologne. I glanced up to him, his stare soft and lips into a smirk.

I cleared my dry throat, cupping the last scoop. "Here you go," I blurted, sliding the bowl across. I dropped the scooper in the sink, placed the ice cream in the sink. I marched out at a fast pace and sat back on the couch. I itched my forehead eating a big bite of ice cream, letting it melt in my mouth. Andrew was behind me, sitting in the same spot next to me. I peeked, he sat back, licking the back of his spoon. Let me not stare, I licked my own out of the bowl. What time is it?

The night ended with handshakes and exchanging numbers. They were getting ready to leave. "This was fun, let's do this more often!" Mrs. Strong exclaimed with a bright smile.

Moving my mouth to the side, I crossed my arms.

"It was, right honey?" Dad asked mom.

"Right!" She agreed, "Rachel you should catch up with Andrew, you missed so many years."

"Mmm." My eyes squinted and cheeks were high. Was that a good idea? No. Do I want to? No. Would I have to? It's a possibility.

"You know, school is starting for the kids on Monday, we should talk about transportation. Maybe Andrew and Rachel can carpool since they will go to the same school," Mr. Strong suggested, my eyes widened.

I protest! No, no no! I opened my mouth, Andrew spoke before me, "that would be wonderful! Save money for gas, save the Earth," he smiled snidely to me. I let out a low growl. "Like old times."

"Lovely," Mom boasted.

"It's not that far, I can walk. Take the bus. We're not kids anymore," I defended.

"Nonsense! Carpooling is better. You can show him around town." Dad recommended.

I didn't even have time to speak as everyone voiced their opinion of agreement. He squeezed my shoulder, pulling me close and chuckled. I'm trying to get rid of these feelings. He's making it hard.