Shawn
I knew asking Lila to get a milkshake wasn’t a date.
At least, I was pretty sure it wasn’t.
The problem was that I couldn’t stop looking at her like it was one.
She sat across from me with both hands wrapped around her strawberry milkshake, arguing that strawberry was superior to chocolate like this was something she was willing to die defending. Every time she got worked up, her nose wrinkled slightly, and every time I laughed at her, she’d narrow her eyes and threaten to leave.
She never did.
That was probably why I kept doing it.
“You realize there’s actual fruit in there,” I said.
“Yes, Shawn. I’m aware of how strawberries work.”
“I’m just saying, dessert shouldn’t have vitamins.”
She stared at me. “You’re an athlete.”
“So?”
“You’re telling me you’re against fruit?”
