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“No problem,” I say, shaking my head. It’s just static, dumbass. There are no actual sparks between you and her.
Good thing I’m not dying either…
Hazel stares down at her tacos, a dreamy look taking over her features. “What kind of tacos did you get?” I ask her, just for the sake of making conversation. Connection.
She blinks up at me like she’s waking up from a nap she didn’t mean to take. “Sorry, did you say something?” she asks.
I laugh. “I asked, what kind of tacos did you get? You were too busy admiring them to hear me though.”
She groans in embarrassment. “Sorry. They’re al pastor. Pork, onion, cilantro, and pineapple. The best,” she says, opening a container of the green salsa.
I wince and playfully ask, “Are you also a pineapple on pizza kind of person, Thomas?”
She jerkily pours the salsa all over her tacos and points at me with eyes narrowed. “Don’t you get on my bad side, Carmichael. Pineapple and pork go great together. On tacos and pizzas. And—have you ever heard of glazed ham?” she asks, waving her hands animatedly.
“Oh, boy. Don’t open that can of worms,” Ezra says and takes a big, messy bite of his chicken taco. His tongue darts out to lick the sauce out of the corner of his mouth and I swear I can hear Rosie gulp.
“Why?” Hazel asks, turning her narrowed gaze on Ezra.
“He won’t ever try it. He’s stubborn like that. Only eats his pizza with pepperoni and cheese.” Ezra scoffs. “Do you know how many fancy pizza places I’ve dragged him to, only for him to embarrass me with his order?”
I slap down a few napkins in front of him. Glaring, I say, “Wipe your mouth, you gentleman.”
Rosie and Hazel giggle, watching us with curious gazes.
“And I’m not stubborn,” I add, taking a bite of my simple steak, onion, and cilantro taco.
Ezra laughs and punches my shoulder. “Sure, buddy. What about that one time in Ireland when you were certain we weren’t lost?”
I try to ignore my friend, who seems hell bent on making jokes at my expense. But the women across from us want to know the Ireland story of how we were in fact lost but I refused to admit it. They want to know about the next story Ezra brings up too, and before we know it, the sun has set and the taco truck has closed for the night.
After a while, Ezra and Rosie’s conversation turns to pop culture and video games.
“Have you been to the arcade in town?” Rosie asks, eyes sparkling up at Ezra.
“I live in Boston, so I haven’t had the pleasure. Want to show me around?”
“I’d love to.”
“What, now?” Hazel asks, surprised.
“We can all go,” Rosie says, eyes pleading.
Ezra raises an eyebrow at me, but I shake my head.
“I’m scheduled to work early, plus my car is back at the club house,” Hazel says.
“What if Levi drives you back to your car, and you take me to the arcade?” Ezra pipes in, smiling at Rosie.
“That’s a great idea,” she brightens, her dark red hair swishing back and forth as she looks between Hazel and Ezra.
My gaze finds Hazel’s and I raise an eyebrow. Well?
She studies me for a moment and gives us all a small smile. “Sounds good.”
Hazel’s arms are crossed and she’s rubbing her hands up and down her biceps to warm herself up. Even though we’re having a warm beginning of summer, the temperature still drops in the late afternoon. I rush to adjust the heat, turning it up higher on the passenger side. For good measure, I turn on the seat warmer too.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, glancing over at me.
