Sidekick (12 page)

Dad shakes his head. “I know it all seems overwhelming, but college is great. You’ll love it once you get there.”

“But you didn’t even use your degree.” My dad majored in history. He went to flight school for fun, racked up a bunch of hours, and got lucky when a friend hooked him up with his first job flying for United. He’s kind of the last person who should be telling me I have to go to college.

“Maybe not, but it was still a great experience to get out on my own and figure out life. Besides, I met your mom in school.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So I should go to college to…get married?”

“No!” He laughs, but then he goes quiet, watching me. His face isn’t hard, only sympathetic. My dad has never been the kind to get mad. He’s always been chill, with ample sides of cheesy and awkward. But that almost makes it worse because he doesn’t deserve to be disappointed. “You know what? How about we make a deal?”

“A deal?”

“If you really don’t want to go to college, then I need to see some kind of alternative plan from you. I don’t want to see you working a drive-through at twenty-four, you know?”

My stomach sinks. If he only knew. “I get that.”

“So think about what else you’d do, and if nothing comes to mind by December, then maybe we should talk college. How’s that sound?”

It doesn’t sound great, mostly because I still don’t have a clue what I want the rest of my life to be. What idiot thought it was a good idea to put such gigantic, life-altering choices in the hands of teenagers? I rub my eyes, just wanting this to be over. “Sounds fair.”

He smiles, and that’s when Mom comes in with two beautiful turkey sandwiches, loaded with lettuce, tomatoes, and—sweet mercy—bacon. Maybe those cooking classes weren’t totally lost on her.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She tousles my hair like I’m five. “Make sure Izzy gets home at a reasonable hour. Your father and I are going out shopping, and then dinner and a movie.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I say through the sandwich. It needs mustard, but other than that it’s great.

#

The next thing I know, someone’s sitting on me. I groan. “Izzy, seriously, leave me alone.”

The laugh jolts me awake. That is not Izzy’s laugh, but hers is somewhere in the ones that follow. I arch my head back, since I’m lying on my stomach, and there’s Keira, her hair wild and her smile playful. “Oh, hey.”

She leans down. “As cute as it is to watch you sleep, we kind of need the couch.”

Damn, she’s so sexy.

“I’m not moving until I know what you need it for.”

Izzy puts her hands on her hips, clearly not pleased with me. “We’re watching a movie, you big ox.”

“A movie? That’s new.” As much as I don’t want to move, I push myself up. Keira slides off me, leaning back on the opposite side of the couch.

“How would you know?” Daphne sits in the recliner, arms folded. “Not like you’re here for everything we watch.”

Trent flicks her head. “Dude, you’re in my drawing chair.”

Daphne doesn’t move.

“It’s kind of late, and this won’t take all night,” Izzy says as she and Colin commandeer the loveseat. They’re doing that a lot lately. I’m not sure I like it, but I keep my mouth shut.

“What time is it?” I ask.

Trent gives up on the recliner and sits next to me. “Almost ten.”

“Shit, I gotta go.” I stand so fast I almost lose my balance. Sure hope Old Man Parker won’t make me scrub the floor with a toothbrush for being late.

Keira frowns. “Where?”

“Uhh…I was supposed to go to that party, remember?”

Daphne rolls her eyes. Trent smirks. Keira seems to notice, but all she says is, “Can’t you ditch it?”

Her eyes beg me to stay, and if I really was meeting up with friends I would ditch them in a heartbeat. But then my deal with Trent would be off, and Old Man Parker would think I’m a flake. I sigh. “Sorry, I can’t. Not tonight.”

“Fine.” Her shoulders slump and I get the feeling I just missed my opportunity.

Chapter Sixteen

I park Puke in the back, the bacon scent making me feel a little better about missing anime night. I hate that Garret might have Keira all to himself while I’m “hanging out with the guys,” but there’s nothing I can do now. When I enter the kitchen, the Parker men are huddled around the table. It must be burger-testing night again.

“Russ, we’re just about to start. C’mon.” Old Man Parker waves me over with a pleasant smile. He’s not so scary anymore. Actually, I think he likes me. The other day he told me I was a hundred times more useful than Trent. I kind of felt bad for Trent, but it felt nice, too, to be acknowledged for being good at something.

There are two burgers laid out, both cut into five pieces. I hold back a smile, realizing they planned to include me in this, that they were waiting for me.

“Alrighty, boys, we got two new green chili burgers to test out. Buck’s sweet Thai chili burger and Fred’s breakfast chili burger.” He holds out his hand to Fred, who’s in his thirties and the thinnest of the Parkers save Trent. “Since you’re the oldest.”

“Okay.” He rubs his hands together. “This is a green chili with a fried egg and some salsa. You should get a breakfast burrito kind of feel.”

We each take our bites. I chew a few times then take another bite. It definitely tastes like that, but it’s…

“Mushy,” Charlie says. “Need some crunch in there, otherwise I think it’s a contender.”

They nod.

“Grilled onions?” Buck says.

“That’s basically the same texture as the chilies,” Old Man Parker says. “If we’re goin’ breakfast, what about a crunchy hash brown patty?”

They all grunt in agreement, and I’m surprised I find myself doing the same thing, like I belong here. “But how well would it sell past breakfast?”

They all stare at me, and then Fred says, “Good point.”

Old Man Parker nods. “Buck, your turn.”

“Okay, this is a Thai chili take, with peanuts on there for that signature Thai feel, not to mention crunch.” He eyes Fred, as if he’s beaten him at this competition.

We all take a slice of the burger and bite. The chili is freaking hot. I like hot, but I’m not sure the average customer would want their mouth on fire while eating. That, and it’s kind of disgusting, but I won’t say so until the others weigh in.

Old Man Parker spits his out. “That’s the burger from hell.”

I don’t think he means it as a compliment.

Charlie laughs. “No one will order that unless we give them a T-shirt for finishing and put their picture up on our wall.”

“We could do that!” Buck lights up. “The Burger from Hell! If you finish, your meal is free. People like those kind of challenges.”

The Old Man shakes his head. “We don’t do gimmicks. We make good, quality food. That’s enough.”

“Damn straight.” I freeze, realizing I said that out loud.

Everyone laughs but Buck. “You got any ideas, kid? You sure talk a lot for a scrub.”

I tip my chin up. “I do, actually.”

Not really, but I can’t help taking a challenge. I guess that’s the ball player in me, or maybe it’s just the guy who always comes in second. And maybe I’m hoping they’ll let me use the grill instead of chopping vegetables until my hand cramps.

Old Man Parker raises his bushy, gray eyebrows. “Well, have at it, boy.”

Smiling, I head for the fridge. As I scan the contents, I hope for inspiration to strike. I can do better than that nasty Thai burger. Buck won’t call me a scrub again. Ah, there it is. I can’t believe they haven’t thought of it yet. It’s so obvious, and it has Parker’s written all over it. I grab a slab of the sweet maple bacon, onions, green chilies, and some sharp white cheddar. My mouth waters at the thought of this burger, so I hope they’ll like it, too.

I start with the bacon, chopping it up and crisping it well. Then I work on the chilies, making sure to take the seed pods out so it won’t be too hot. I dice those up along with the onions, and then I sauté them until the onions are caramelized, adding yet another undercurrent of sweet. The pepper, garlic, and cumin come next. Then the tiniest bit of salt, since the bacon will compensate.

The entire time, I can feel Old Man Parker watching me. Even while he grills up orders. His expression doesn’t say if I’m succeeding or not, but there’s no turning back.

I throw the bacon in with the green chilies and onion, and then grab a fresh burger from the fridge. I put it on the grill and let it sizzle until the bottom looks done. After I flip it, I put a slice of the white cheddar on to melt. A quick toasting of the bun, and I’m ready to assemble.

“Okay, it’s done,” I say when I have it cut. For a second I worry it’s too simple, but sometimes simple is best. The Parkers gather and the nerves kick in. Who do I think I am? Coming into Parker’s—a legendary drive-in—and saying I can make a better burger?

I’m so stupid.

“Care to tell us your intent?” Buck says.

“Uhh, sure.” I force the lump down my throat. “As a faithful Parker’s customer, what I love most about your food is how simple and yet perfect it is. You don’t cut corners, but you also don’t hide behind excessive toppings. You let the food speak for itself.”

I stare at my feet, feeling like a suck-up, but I mean it. “This is just a maple bacon and green chili burger. I thought with the onions it might give a bit of a cheese steak vibe, but with heat from the chili.”

They all take their piece, and I watch them chew for a few seconds before I eat mine.

I pop it in my mouth, and I’m surprised by how good it tastes. The heat is there, but not overwhelming. The white cheddar was a good choice, too, salty and sharp to balance the sweet heat. They all swallow, but still say nothing. They just stare at me like I’ve sprouted wings or something.

Old Man Parker points to the empty plate. “Now
that
is Parker’s food. That’s the one.”

They all grunt in agreement, even Buck. I smile like a fool. Hearing Old Man Parker say he liked my food? Wow. It’s like scoring a touchdown. Maybe even better.

The bell rings for a customer, and Fred runs up front.

“That could go on the menu tomorrow.” Charlie slaps my back. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”

I shrug, unable to admit even to him that I took lessons with my mom. “Just messing around in the kitchen.”

“You need to go to culinary school.” Old Man Parker heads for the grill when Fred calls the order. “Don’t waste talent like that.”

Culinary school? I never thought of it, but the idea of cooking every day instead of college is appealing.

I could be a chef.

Could I even do that? Cooking is one thing, but chefs are hardcore. I’ve watched enough Food Network to know that what they do isn’t easy. Running a restaurant takes way more than knowing how to cook. What would my parents say if I told them I wanted to be a chef? Dad already made fun of food jobs. He probably wouldn’t approve of this plan. And the team, they would laugh at me. Dallas already calls me burger boy, which is bad enough.

As I drive home, the high of my success at Parker’s fades. It’s only two. Izzy and crew will still be watching anime, and who knows what else has happened while I was gone. My mind goes immediately to the worst scenario: Garr and Keira snuggled up in the recliner, sneaking kisses while everyone takes snack or bathroom breaks.

This deal with Trent has completely backfired.

I turn off my headlights and force myself to go inside and accept it. But before I get to the door, Keira opens it, her skateboard in hand. She hooks her arm with mine and drags me right back to Puke.

“What the hell?” I say.

“Mom’s freaking out, so I was going to skate home.” She smiles. “But you can take me, since you’re already up anyway.” She heads for the passenger side, leaving me to stare at the car and wonder if this is actually happening.

Chapter Seventeen

Keira puts her feet up on the dashboard and cranks the seat back so she’s practically lying down. I can’t help but think how easy it would be to climb over.
Eyes on the road, Russ.

“How was your party?” she asks.

“Eh.”

She smirks. “So you didn’t make out with anyone.”

“Because that’s the only thing that makes a night good.” I turn out of Hamilton Villa, wondering if this is yet another one of her tests. Is she hinting that she cares about who I’m with?

She shakes her head. “You’re good, Russ. You make it sound like you actually think that.”

“Wow. Glad to know you have such a high opinion of me.” I’m too tired for tests. I haven’t had more than five hours of sleep a night for the last week. “Making out is great, sure, but it’s nice to have some kind of fun and conversation, too. Give me some credit.”

She laughs. “You’re cranky tonight.”

“I just don’t get you, Keira. One second you’re nice to me, and the next you act like I’m some kind of horny bastard. You drag me back to my car so I can drive you home and expect that I want to help you out. Then you treat me like shit.” I take a deep breath. Why am I mad when all I’ve wanted was this exact scenario? “Yeah, I’m a jock, but I haven’t been anything but nice to you. I haven’t judged you or looked down on you, though you’ve done plenty of that to me. So quit it with the tests. I’m not faking.”

I can feel her staring at me, but I don’t look over.

Trash bins block the curb in front of her house, so I pull into the driveway. What a sucky drive. It’s obvious she’s not into me, and I hate that I’m so upset about it. “You getting out?”

“No.” She presses her lips together, and then her eyes start to water.

Great, I made her cry. “Sorry, I guess I am cranky.”

She sits up, her eyes locked on mine. “No, I’m sorry. Damn it, Russ, you make everything so difficult!”

“Excuse me?”

“If you were a jerk, it would be a lot easier to…”

“To what?”

Something changes then. Nothing physical, but the energy between us is different. Instead of a push, it’s a pull. She looks at my lips, then at her hands. I know that cue well, but I wait. It’s late, and maybe the sleep deprivation is making me hallucinate.