“What are you kids doing out here? It’s freezing.”
“Planning world domination.” I winked, then let go of Damien and turned to my dad, grinning at him mischievously. “Is the game over?”
“Nope. Half-time.” Dad cocked his head back in the direction of the kitchen and suggested in a voice full of honey, “I was wondering if you could serve out some of your righteous pumpkin pie.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Damien piped up, rubbing his hands together like a little kid.
I rolled my eyes at the both of them and took the lead, heading back to the kitchen with the two of them tailing me. After I cut out the slice of pie for dad, he thanked me and gave me a big smooch on my cheek before taking his dessert with him to the living room. Damien and I both settled down on the kitchen stools facing the living room view with our own respective portions of my pie.
He took a bite and groaned like he’d just entered ecstasy. “May, you gotta tell me how you do it.”
“Do what?” I fished for his compliments.
“This. Tastes. So. Freaking. Good. I might move into your kitchen at this rate.”
I laughed, taking another bite out of the pie. He was right. This tasted glorious.
“I tosh you alweady, I fohgive you,” I uttered through mouthfuls of pie. Damien shook his head, and it wasn’t until I looked him straight in the eye again did I realize that he was actually nervous. Oh wow. This must be something serious.
“It’s not that, it’s just um...the date thing.”
Oh gosh. I bit down hard on my inner cheek to stop from grinning. One look at his face and I knew he was still pretty riled up about it, but was holding it back for my sake. Putting on an innocent facade, I encouraged him, “yeah? What about it?”
“Um, who...” he cleared his throat, and then coughed. “Sorry, food entered the wrong pipe.” You aren’t even chewing Damien. “I uh...I just want to know who it is that you went out with.”
He looked at me, with those big green doe eyes. I wouldn’t fall for it. If there was a way to have Damien be the one left hanging for a change, I would take it. Gulping down the pie, I smirked at him.
“You really want to know?”
He bobbed his head yes.
“Well,” I pressed my index finger against my lips and winked, “too bad it’s a secret.”
The growl that followed could have brought the whole house down. I simply ignored Damien’s persistent questioning and picked up my plate, carrying it over to join dad on the couch in the living room. Even then, Damien sat next to me, poking me on the hip and repeatedly whispering, “Who, who, who”. If I really told him ‘who’ it was with, he would murder me. I liked having him on his toes. And that is exactly how I kept him the rest of Thanksgiving break.