Danger Kid

Chapter 9

"I know you told me not to call you." I pause, letting her remind me exactly how many times she told me not to call her. She also tells me why she told me not to call her. She tells me that she just needs some time alone. But I haven't seen Amber in two weeks.

"Yes, but it's been too weeks." I say defensively.

I wait, listening to her reply and then I talk again. "I just need to see you again. As friends, ok? Just go get lunch or something."

"Friends? I hope you and I have the same definition of what being a friend means." Amber says with purposefully apparent doubt.

"I think most people recognize friends as somebody that you spend time with, like, and look out for." I explain defensively.

"Not somebody to whom you make romantic gestures or kiss at the front door, right?"

"Wait, that's not what you think a friend is?"

"Ha. Ha. You're not helping yourself."

"Fine, I won't do anything romantic, endearing, or even sweet."

"Hmmmm, let me think about it." The speaker on my BEAD goes silent for a bit. Then, she continues, "Sounds like a deal. Just pretend that you are my cousin, or a nerd helping me out with my paperwork. Ok?"

"You do realize that when those nerds were helping you with homework in high school, they had a couple of additional objectives in mind, don't you?"

"You do realize I only ever asked hot jocks to help me with my homework, and not because I actually needed help on my homework."

"Are you calling me a hot jock?"

"No." she says without hesitation.

"Fine, point being, do you really want me to be the nerd? I can be the nerd. But then I'd just be hoping you'd fall in love with me for my brains and obsession with live action role play."

"How about you be the sassy buddy that I long since friend zoned?" She suggests.

"Ugh. I'll go with professional business partner."

"Ooh, that sounds good. It's a promise then?"

"Yeah. Professional business partner." I say, crossing my fingers to myself. I like to imagine that she is doing the same, but know she isn't.

"Where at?" says her voice, distorted by a receiver and several miles of distance.

"What do you mean by where at?"

"Where will we have lunch at? We have to reestablish our friendship, don't we?"

"I don't know. Louie's?" I respond. A pleasant little sit down restaurant that serves great dishes with unpronounceable names and wines that Amber is not quite old enough to drink yet.

"Two people alone at Louie's? That's hardly platonic." She responds. I guess she's right, the cello player and candlelight might distract from the whole "we're just friends for now" vibe.

"Eduardo's?" I suggest. A snobby, reservation required kind of place where you have to wait usually at least several months for an hour of their time, and the main dish's pound of flesh costs a pound of flesh.

"Less." She says.

"How about Chuck O Rama?" I say.

"Ugh. Permanent friend zone there, buddy. How about Denny's?"

"Nice."

"We'll go dutch." She says.

"Alright." I say as she clicks off. I put my BEAD back into my pocket, I realize we didn't schedule when our little reestablishment of friendship would take place, but regardless of not setting a date, it is a date. My BEAD buzzes, and I pull it out again.