Beauty And The Bookworm (6 page)

Chapter 6

I Get Robbed

I called Shane just before nine the next morning.
I was fully prepared to play it cool if he didn’t remember telling me he wanted to make sweet love to me and ride off into the sunset. Okay, okay, I know he didn’t say that, but that’s what I heard.

“Hello.”

“Shane?”

“Mason?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m hobbling around. I tried to call you yesterday. Do you live with your mom?”

Shit. My life is not very sexy, is it?
“My grandmother.”

“Oh. Okay. I just wanted to say thanks for everything. I know you took a lot of time out of your day to take care of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you need anything? Can you get out of the house?”

He sighed, and yes, it was sexy. “I haven’t tried to go anywhere. I’m just sitting around watching TV and feeling sorry for myself. I’m starting to stink, too. I’m going to have to figure out how to shower.”

I pictured myself in a candy striper outfit, giving Shane a slow sponge bath. “I… uh… Maybe you could wrap your leg in a garbage bag.”

“Yeah, I’ll do something like that. Did I ask you
to have sex with me?”

This is the part where he apologizes for leading me on and blames it on his drug-induced delirium.
“You did.”

He laughed a little. Did he sound nervous? Did guys who looked like Shane get nervous?

“Well,” he continued, “I’m sorry about that. Maybe we could go on a date… first.”

Stay frosty, Mason. Think of how cool a gay vampire assassin would be in this situation.
“That would be good.”

He let out a breath. “Thank God, I thought maybe
I scared you off. I can’t really take you anywhere right now, obviously, but I can try to cook you dinner tonight.”

I thought of Twyla. She planned on staying with Gran and
me for at least the next few nights. How much of a shit would I be to slip away for a dinner with the man of everyone’s dreams? I thought of lycra stretched over Shane’s bulge and became a bad friend. “I’ll do the cooking. You need to keep that ankle up. What do you like to eat?”

“I’m easy – anything with kale or quinoa.”

I had no idea what either of those things were because Gran does all the cooking (I know, I’m a bad homosexual,) but I played it off. “Sounds good to me. I’ll be over around six.”

“Great. Our first real date, if you don’t count the emergency room.”

“Let’s not count the emergency room,” I laughed.

I spent my day at work not working. Instead, I read all about kale and quinoa, both of which sounded disgusting but healthy. I found a recipe for soup involving kale, lamb, and lots of heavy cream. It looked good and easy, so I illegally ran the library printer for personal use and soon had the recipe in hand.

After work, I walked Twyla to her car, working up the nerve to tell her I was spending the evening out. “So,” I started, “I’m going to catch the bus.”

“Why? We’re going to the same place.”

“I… uh, sort of have a date.”

Twyla’s face lit up. “You do? With who?”

I breathed the proverbial sigh of relief. “Shane, the guy from the park.”

“The one with the pink no-no? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He asked me over for dinner. Do you mind if I go?”

“You’d better go. Oh, Mason, I hope he fucks you.”

I looked around to make sure no one had heard her talking like a
pregnant sailor. “Keep your voice down! And start talking like a mother – you obviously need practice.”

She laughed. “Fine. I hope you get to see his ding-a-ling. Is that better?”

“No! Nobody’s going to be showing off their ding-a-lings. He’s injured.”

“In the ding-a-ling?”

I shook my head. “No, he twisted his ankle, I think he’s in too much pain for showing off anything. Besides, it’s our first date. What kind of boy do you think I am?”

She snorted. “The same kind of girl I am, I hope.”

I hugged her and said, in the sweetest voice possible, “Get your soon-to-be fat ass into the car and get out of here.”

I probably could have found the ingredients for the soup at any grocery store in Portland, but, with the little I did know about Shane, I figured he’d like it if I came in carrying bags from a health-food store. I know this was manipulative of me, and slightly dishonest, but… you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, kiddo.

Health-food stores are, by their nature,
assholish places. Portland is itself rather assholish, so, walking into a health-food store in Portland is like walking into assholishness squared. As soon as I walked into the store I was greeted aggressively by a young woman with dreadlocks, a nose-ring, and a very healthy smile. “Welcome to Mother Earth Foods. I’m Mona Lisa. What can I help you find?”

I coughed on the cloud of patchouli that surrounded Mona Lisa (really?) and said, “Kale.”

Mona Lisa frowned. Apparently “kale” was the wrong answer to her question. She tried again. “What kind of kale?”

Ha!
Granola-girl doesn’t know I work at the library.
“Lacinato.”

Mona Lisa’s smile returned. “Follow me. We’ve got the freshest kale in Portland. You’re going to love it. Are you making a salad or a smoothie?”

“Soup,” I said to Mona Lisa’s back.

She turned when we reached the produce aisle and did a sort of
Vanna White arm-wave in front of the kale. “Are you sure you don’t want a salad? We’ve got some Citrus-massaged Tuscan that you’ll love.”

I ran through her words, making sure she was speaking English. “Uh… I’m pretty set on the soup. I’ll just take the
lacinato.”

“Well, what about soup and salad? Wouldn’t that be nice? Twice the kale equals twice the antioxidants.”

Was she being paid on commission? “Well, okay. I’ll take a pound of each.”

“Just a pound?”

Definitely working for commission. “Yeah,” I lied, “I’ll come back tomorrow for more.”

“Great. I’ll weigh it up for you. Can I have your bags?”

“My bags?”

“For the kale. You brought your own bags, right?”

The library does not prepare us for everything. “No, I forgot. I’ll just have to use the store’s bags.”

There was something very predatory in Mona Lisa’s smile. “We actually don’t have bags, but we do sell recycled bags just for vegetables. I’ll run and grab a few.”

Mona Lisa returned a few seconds later with the bags and then helped me find the rest of my ingredients. She sort of turned on me when I requested lamb and heavy cream because, apparently, she’d been sure I was a vegan. She wasn’t openly hostile, but I was obviously not going to be invited to her next piercing party.

I had to buy more bags to carry the rest of the groceries. When everything was finally totaled up, I handed Mona Lisa $130.35. I realized that I had just been robbed and decided I needed to open a health-food store as soon as possible. A hundred and thirty bucks – for soup! It would have been cheaper, and quicker, to skip Shane’s and hire an actual prostitute.

I made it to Shane’s place and opened the door at his yelled, “Come in!” He was right where I’d left him, but he’d obviously managed a shower. His thick black hair was combed back and he’d managed to pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

He noticed my million-dollar grocery bags right away. “Oh, you shop at Mother Earth! That’s my favorite store. Was Mona Lisa working?”

“She was.”

“Don’t you just love her?”

“I do. She’s the best.”

Shane smiled. “She is a little aggressive, though.”

“Just a little. So… can I just go into the kitchen and get started?”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Why don’t you find a movie?”

“Got it.”

I quickly found everything I needed in Shane’s well-stocked kitchen. The soup was really easy to make and soon the whole placed smelled like an Italian restaurant. I was extremely pleased with myself when Shane yelled, “Whatever that is, it smells amazing.”

I went to the living room while the soup simmered. Shane had put on
The Hunger Games.
I admitted I hadn’t seen it, but had read the books. Five stars for teenagers fighting to the death. The movie got ten stars for Josh Hutcherson making me not mind feeling like the guy not allowed within 100 yards of the playground.

Shane must have noticed me perking up every time Mr.
Hutcherson appeared on the screen, because he said, “He’s pretty cute, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s short, like you.”

Uh… Fuck you very much.

“I love short guys. So hot and compact. Drives me crazy.”

Okay… Fuck me very much.

It was time to eat, so I helped Shane to the table and served up the soup and Citrus-massaged salad. I felt stupid for being as nervous as I was about him liking the food. I didn’t touch my own food, waiting for Shane to take the first bite.

He put a spoonful of the soup in his mouth, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. “Oh, Mason, no lie, that is the best soup I’ve ever had. What’
s in it?”

I listed the ingredients and watched Shane’s face
change as if I was describing a stew made up of lard and fresh-caught kittens.

“Heavy cream?” he asked.

I should have known. He probably used almond milk for everything. “I thought we might splurge a little. You know, screw fat and calories on a first date.”

He relaxed a little, like I’d just pulled a revolver away from his temple. “So you don’t eat like this all the time?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really cook… that much. My grandmother does most of the cooking.”

He shook his head. “How do you stay in such great shape? What gym do you go to?”

I figured he must be talking to me, even though the question made no sense. I hadn’t been into a gym in over fifteen years. “Tony’s Gym, down on 2
nd
,” I lied. I picked Tony’s Gym because I passed it on the way home every day. It was the only gym I knew of besides a women’s gym called Wiggles are Wonderful.

He looked impressed. “Tony’s Gym? Wow, I don’t even have the nerve to go in there. I never took you for a boxer. Maybe you could teach me a few moves when my leg gets better.”

Tony’s was a boxing gym. Perfect. It’s too bad lies aren’t a cash crop because if you plant one it will grow and grow. “Yeah, I can show you some moves. Tony’s is a great place for a workout.”

I needed to change the subject because I liked Shane and I knew he’d catch me in a lie sooner or later. I was also starting to feel like quite an asshole. “So,” I started, “did you grow up in Portland.”

“Yeah, born and raised. You?”

“Pendleton.”

He laughed. “Home of The Pendleton Roundup? Must have been fun growing up in a cowboy town.”

“It wasn’t bad until I came out. I was just kind of invisible. I moved up here with Gran when I was sixteen.”

He nodded. “I never had to come out. My father just announced it at Thanksgiving when I was seventeen.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. ‘Everyone, I have an announcement. Shane is a homosexual. There will be no further discussion on this matter.’”

I laughed through a bite of salad. “How did he know
? I mean, you’re definitely not obvious.”

“I have a twin brother – he’s straight. I think my parents could just tell I was different because I was so good all the time. I made my bed, got straight A’s, never set a foot wrong. When Shawn started his teenage rebellion, I just got more perfect. I think I was so scared of their reaction to my ‘big secret’ that I didn’t have the heart to disappoint them in any other way.”

“So they knew you were gay because you never acted up?”

He gave me a wicked smile that went straight to my dick. “That and the
internet history I was too stupid to erase.”

I laughed. “Well, it could have been your brother looking up naked men. They never suspected it was him?”

“No way. It was obvious who was looking for what on the family computer. Shawn was googling ‘how to hotwire a car’ while I looked up ‘how to perform the perfect blowjob.’”

Blowjob. Change the subject now before you’re fully erect.
“So where’s Shawn now?”

“Prison.”

I’m such an idiot.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Shane waved a hand at me. “Don’t be. I honestly think he likes it there. They’ll be letting him out soon. He’ll come here and stay with me for a few months, then he’ll fuck up and go back.”

“Still…”

“Honestly, it’s okay. I think he might have made out better if our dad hadn’t been such a prick.
He was really rough on Shawn.”

“Rough?”

He looked, not sad, but regretful. “Yeah, Shawn’s got the scars to prove it. Dad never hit me, though. I was so careful and controlled. I made sure he never had an excuse.”