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“How are the mozzarella balls?”
“They’re good. I should warn you, they are really big though.”
I chuckle. “Not sure I want big balls in my mouth on the first date.”
His eyes go round as he stares at me. I realize then how my joke must have sounded.
Holding out a hand as if I’m trying to stop my words from sounding so ridiculous. “Not that I want small balls either.”
Andrew chokes on the water he just took a sip of.
“Shit, not saying your balls are small. I mean I bet they are really nice balls.”
Never has my brain and my mouth seemed so disconnected. I’m pretty sure when Trina told me to be myself, this isn’t what she meant. At this point I wish the ground wouldn’t just open and swallow me but politely spit me out onto another continent.
Andrew places his glass down in front of him and pounds on his chest. “Maybe we should move on from the mozzarella. They also have good calamari.”
Feeling thankful for his change of subject, I keep my mouth closed. Hopefully nothing else crazy slips out.
“So, Summer,” he says placing his hands on top of the table. “Trina tells me you’re in school.”
I smile, glad to be on a topic other than balls.
“Yes. I’m two and a half months away from graduating with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology.”
“That’s fantastic. I guess I’ll have to take you out somewhere nice to celebrate.” He gives me that Colgate smile again and I can’t help but blush.
“Hello, Welcome to Buona Tavola,” A well-dressed waiter says coming over to our table. He has a bottle of wine in his hands. “Can I start you off with a drink, maybe our delicious house wine?”
Andrew looks at me expectantly. I shake my head.
“Oh, no alcohol for me.”
“You don’t drink?” Andrew asks innocently.
“No. I ummm, I’m a recovering addict. Alcohol wasn’t my vice, but I don’t want to put down one addiction for another so, I stay clear.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the color drain out of someone’s face so fast. Andrew goes from tanned to ghost white in 0.2 seconds. I guess Trina didn’t tell him everything. Even the waiter looks shocked.
“Don’t worry,” I say holding up a hand. “I’ve been clean for five years. No need to hide the silverware.” I chuckle but no one joins me.
Clearing my throat, I look up at the waiter. “Sweet tea is fine.”
“Uhhhh,” Andrew seems to stall for a moment before finally shaking his head and saying. “A whiskey sour for me please. Double it.”
The waiter nods before hurriedly walking away. An uncomfortable silence floats between us. Andrew seems to look everywhere but at me.
This is not an uncommon outcome. Many of my dates have hit the awkward silence part after either I tell them about my past or I make a joke that they don’t seem to get. I’m used to this.
“You know, we can call it a night. I’m sure you have better things to do than pretend to be interested.”
He looks back at me, his eyes widen before he shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.” He holds up a hand then takes a deep breath. “I’m messing this up.”
“I doubt you can make it any worse than my confession.”
He laughs, as he pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Trina told me you had a past. She didn’t tell me exactly what it was. In fact, she told me it wasn’t any of my damn business because you aren’t that person anymore.”
I can’t help but laugh because that’s exactly what my best friend would say.
