Page 13 of Breaking the Ice

Evan: Oh! Wanna meet me at La Bamba?

Evan: I’m hungry, so two birds, two stones = two burritos.

Isabella: How do you think that expression works?

Evan: No idea but it sounds so good, please say yes.

Isabella: Do they have Coke or Pepsi?

Evan: Let’s find out.

Isabella: Okay, but we are still studying.

Evan: Of course!

Isabella beats me to La Bamba, the best burrito place on campus. Probably because I stopped at the Qwik Mart on the corner and bought her a Pepsi.

Little Mexican flag garlands flutter from the ceiling, and the bright yellow and orange walls give off warm, homey vibes. I breathe in the delicious smells of chorizo, salsa, and fresh chips, and my stomach growls. Spying her at a spacious booth in the back with her study materials already spread out, I saunter over and set the bottle in front of her.

“There. In case I guessed wrong.”

Mouth dropping open, she stares up at me in shock. “You got me a Pepsi?”

“Yeah, no big deal.” I shrug. The look of pleasant surprise on her pretty face makes me want to spoil her on the daily. Is it because she doesn’t like me? Doesn’t fawn over me? I don’t know, but I’m drawn to this woman, and I want to explore the pull I feel between us. “What kind of burrito would you like?”

She brushes me off. “Oh, I’m good.”

“Did you already eat?”

“No, but…” She bites her pink lip, and I have to fight off distracting thoughts about her mouth.

I clear my throat. “Do you not like burritos?”

“No, I do. It’s just that⁠—”

“Look, you’re doing me a favor. Let me get you a snack.”

“A burrito is not a snack.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you’re paying me, remember? I don’t need anything else.”

I tick off points on my fingers. “It is a snack if you expend a thousand calories at hockey practice. And yes, I’m paying you, but I don’t want you to get hangry.”

Her brown eyes narrow. “Did my dad warn you about that?”

“No.” Coach has never mentioned Isabella by name, although he does check in with me regularly about tutoring. I can’t play in the games this weekend unless I have great grades to bring up my average. A math quiz and a US History test that I’m going to ace should hopefully fix that, though. “I just noticed you were happier last week when you had crackers. Seems like it’s in my best interest to keep you that way.”

“Oh.” Oddly mollified by this, her posture softens. “Okay. I’ll take a number three.”

“Perfect, be right back.”

I don’t have to wait in line long for our food. They do have Pepsi, so I get her the biggest fountain drink, too. Am I trying to butter her up? Sure, a little. But my heart races at the soft smile that spreads across her face when I make her happy. I’m chasing that high.

As I slide into the garishly painted booth across from her with our food, I’m about to ask her about her day when a trio of sorority girls stalk up to me, clad in matching blue and pink.

“Hi, Evan,” says the blondest one, who I think is named Sam. She gives me a wink and a finger wave even though she’s standing right in front of me.

“Hi,” chorus the other two. The dark brunette is tall, almost as tall as me—Brenna, I believe, and the skinny girl with light brown hair next to her is Claire. They both pop their hands on their hips in what feels like a choreographed move to showcase the tight Delta Gama shirts stretched across their chests.

“Ladies.” I nod, then turn back to Isabella and open my mouth.