Before The Boys Say No Part 7

First debate tournament down, but I had my sights set on state at the end of the year. I don't know how I pulled it off with Jared, but I knew we would have some serious work to do if we expected to win any more tournaments.

CHAPTER 6.

Debate suits one day and a dirty ap.r.o.n the next. It's weird feeling like a bit of a celebrity in the high school debate circuit and then facing the reality of work in the restaurant. I had won debate tournaments so many times that it just wasn't a point of interest for my family any more. Mom just patted me on the back and told me to get salad out to table four.

I especially disliked dealing with customers after I won. My mind is on cloud nine and then I get an overweight woman complaining about the food. That's exactly what happened the day after the debate. I stood at the register staring at her tonsils while her big mouth complained loud and clear that her food wasn't warm when she got it. I definitely wasn't the person to complain to. Remember, customer service isn't my thing.

"Where's your food?" I asked the woman in the middle of her tirade.

She stopped and looked at me in surprise. "What do you mean? It's on the table."

"Nope," I said. "It's been eaten. By you. If you had a problem with how hot your food was, you should have told Aunt Roma. We would have fixed it for you. Now that you've eaten it, you want to complain. Are you trying to get a free meal?"

The woman's mouth dropped and her face got red. We're talking, almost purple. She opened her mouth to go off on me, but just then, Dad came quickly out of the kitchen wearing a face of great sympathy.

"Mrs. Hodgins," he intervened. "Did I hear right? Your food wan't warm enough?"

"No, it wasn't and this smart-mouthed girl just insulted me."

"Teenagers," he shrugged. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll tell you what I'd do. Slap that rude att.i.tude right out of her."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my father threw me the warning look. He never wanted me to try to take care of customer complaints, but Aunt Roma was busy. I turned and was about to go into the kitchen when in walked Brody and a bunch of the popular kids. The guys looked like they had just finished football practice. The girls, well, let's just say they looked as skinny and beautiful as ever. Lanie, of course, led them into the restaurant.

It was too late for me to hide in the kitchen. Not that I could anyway. The restaurant was too busy. Aunt Roma needed my help on the floor. I looked helplessly at the group as my father drew Mrs. Hodgins out of the way to smooth her ruffled feathers.

Brody bounded up to me with a grin. "Hey, Bea. How's it going?"

I smiled stiffly and mumbled, "Hi."

He could instantly tell that I felt uncomfortable. We hadn't spent any time together since we had shared pizza that night. He worked a few hours at the restaurant each week, but never during my s.h.i.+ft.

The other guys pushed around the register, yelling out pizza orders. I wrote them down on a pad, scribbling and crossing out as they changed their minds. I looked at Brody with frustration. He whistled and got their attention.

"Come on guys. Give Bea a break."

"Who's Bea?" one of the football players asked.

"This is Bea," Brody said, coming around behind the register to stand next to me. "Let me help out." He took the pad from me and looked it over. "Let's do five pizzas with the works. That should cover it."

He had solved the pizza dilemma. The jocks turned their attention back on themselves. Brody nudged me softly.

"You doing okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," I said. "I had my first debate tournament yesterday."

"How'd it go?"

Before I could answer, Lanie yelled Brody's name. He sighed and turned toward her. I slipped past him into the kitchen to give Dean the pizza order. My heart was fluttering from standing so close to Brody.

"Did I hear Brody?" Dean asked me.

"Yeah. He's with his popular friends," I said sarcastically.

"He's not like them, Bea. You know that."

I nodded and turned away to get the coffee pot for refills. I dreaded walking by that group of kids, but I had no choice. I had a pot in each hand and was just about clear of the group when I heard Lanie's voice say, "Look at her hips jiggle."

Even the guys started laughing. I looked back at Brody, but he was talking with another guy and hadn't heard the comment. If only I could confront those kids like I did others. I ignored them and moved into the restaurant, trying to keep my hips from swaying.

Moving from table to table with the coffee pot helped calm my nerves. I know Dean would take care of the pizza order with the kids. He knew how much I disliked being around them. It was crazy how just being around them deflated my confidence.

I had lingered long enough with the coffee. It was time to return the pots to the kitchen. Past those kids again. I kept my head down and marched back toward the kitchen when the door opened. I looked up to greet the customer and just about dropped the coffee pots. It was Tony, the guy I had debated against. He had traded his suit for a T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans.

I heard some of the girls murmuring about how cute he was. I didn't know what he was doing in my restaurant, but I couldn't have looked worse if I tried. Okay, maybe I could, but my frizzy hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail had slipped where a couple of big strands had fallen out over one eye. I had gotten used to Brody seeing me look my worse, but not this guy. I mean, I had a reputation to uphold in debate.

Tony smiled when he saw me. "I was hoping you were working today," he said loudly.

Brody looked at him then at me. He had a weird expression on his face. He turned from the guy who was still talking to watch me, folding his arms across his chest.

"Hi, Tony," I said almost apologetically.

"You look a lot different," he told me. Oh, great. Now the disappointment would come. "Really pretty."

I blinked hard. He called me pretty. The girls had turned their full attention on us and couldn't believe he had said that either. I saw Lanie nudge one of her friends. The girl rose and crossed to Tony.

"Are you new at school?" she asked flirtatiously.

He cast a glance at her, but turned his eyes back on me. "Nope. I just came to see Beatrice."

"I can't really talk right now," I muttered. I know my cheeks were red because I felt the heat in them.

"I would have called you, but you didn't give me your number. Your debate partner told me you worked here, so I thought I'd be able to catch you. What time do you get off?"

"Oh, I, um, I close," I said, feeling even more self-conscious with everyone's eyes on me.

Good old Dean saved the day. He carried the pizza boxes out to the register. Suddenly, all the attention was off me and on the food. The guys paid for the pizza and started filing out the door. Brody paused by me and touched my shoulder.

"You know Homecoming is in a couple of weeks--"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be gone at a debate tournament, but I'll bet the team wins. I mean, you should with you being quarterback and all."

I don't know why I was rambling. I just felt nervous with Tony unexpectedly there and Brody and all the popular kids. And why was he telling me about Homecoming? I'd have to be a dufus not to know when Homecoming took place at school.

"Come on, Brody," Lanie said from the door. "Pizza's gonna get cold."

"I'll bet Lanie makes Homecoming queen," I told him. "You'll need to polish up on your dancing."

He smiled at me with those blue eyes. "Okay. I'll talk with you later."

He disappeared out the door with the chaos. It was just Tony and me at the front. I saw Aunt Roma headed for the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. When she saw me talking with Tony, she stayed on the floor to give us privacy.

"So," Tony said with a laugh. "You look pretty busy. Do you still have my number?"

I nodded, biting the side of my mouth. He seemed as uncomfortable as I was. Dad rounded the corner just then and stopped. I wanted to shoo Tony out of the restaurant before my dad opened his mouth.

"What do we have here?" Dad crooned with his thickest Italian accent. "A handsome boy, a beautiful girl, and voil! A match made in heaven."

"Stop," I whispered under my breath. I felt so embarra.s.sed.

Tony laughed good naturedly. "I'm Tony," he said, extending his hand for a shake.

"I'm Beatrice's father," Dad bellowed. "You come to ask me permission to date my daughter?"

"Dad, stop," I said and slapped his arm.

"Yeah," Tony replied. "I was checking to see if Beatrice wanted to hang out today."

"What is this hang out?" Dad asked.

"Go away, Dad," I begged, trying to push him toward the kitchen. He refused to budge.

"What?" Dad asked innocently. "A boy comes to court my daughter and I don't have any say in the matter?"

"No," I retorted. "Go in the kitchen."

Dad wouldn't leave. And it just got worse. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

I groaned as Tony's eyes grew larger. "Uh, well, I was just going to see if she wanted to go out some time--"

"That's the problem with the boys today. In my youth, if you asked a girl out, you had the thought of marriage in the back of your mind. You know? You were ready to make a commitment."

Shoot me now. Tony's smile had turned to confusion and then to panic. He backed to the door while my father talked. As soon as my father took a breath, Tony looked quickly at me and waved before escaping out the door.

I stood in shock. My father shrugged his shoulders and gave me a wry grin. I carefully placed the coffee pots on the counter and slapped my dad's arm as hard as I could.

"Marriage? Are you crazy? I don't even know that guy."

"If the word marriage scares a boy, Bea, you're better off to know that up front."

"Dad, I actually had a chance to go on a date with a cute guy. Not some ugly, have to settle guy. A real, cute guy who thought I was pretty cool. You ruined it for me! Wait till I tell Mom."

He swallowed hard. He didn't want to face Mom's wrath. He knew he had gone too far. "Let's just keep this between ourselves, Bea."

"You owe me, Dad," I said sternly. "Big time."

"All right. I admit, I probably took it a little too far--"

"A little?"

My dad scratched his head. "Sorry, honey. I was just having some fun."

"Don't ever have fun with anyone that I talk to ever again," I warned in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

I grabbed the coffee pots and strode into the kitchen, trying to curb the anger. Tony would probably never speak to me again. My one chance to actually go out on a date my senior year. I didn't blow it--good old pops did.

Aunt Roma breezed into the kitchen, wearing a look of sympathy. "Sorry, honey. I saw the whole thing. I couldn't get away from the customers to come to your rescue."

"Did you see how cute he was?" I asked her.

"He was a cute one," she agreed. "Don't worry. There will be others."

"Really? Because I don't think so. I mean, this guy drove out here to see me. He actually called me pretty, Auntie. Look at me. Do I look pretty?"

"Of course you do, Bea. You always look pretty."

"You're my aunt. You have to say that. I look like a train wreck. But that guy--Tony--thought I still looked good enough to hang with."

"He'll be back," Aunt Roma said firmly.

"Are you kidding? He couldn't get out of here fast enough."

She patted my arm and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Let's get out to the floor, hmm? Make some good tips."

I followed her to the grill and grabbed breadsticks from under the warmer. Dean threw me a look of sympathy, as well. He always heard everything from the kitchen.

"Why don't you ask Brody out?" he suggested.

"Brody? He would never go out with me. Besides, he's dating Lanie."

Dean frowned. "I don't think he's dating anyone."

"He's taking her to Homecoming."

"I didn't know that," Dean said with a shrug. "I'm surprised. He's always asking about you when he works."

"That's because I work here too. It's almost mandatory to ask about family members, Dean."

Dean raised his brows, but didn't say a word. He just didn't understand the situation. Brody was definitely out of my league. He would never ask me out. I mean, a big girl like me going out with a cute, popular guy like him? It would never happen.

"Table three's spaghetti is up," he said.