“Wow, that’s amazing,” he smiled.
I grinned coyly. “I bet you couldn’t eat the whole thing.”
“Probably not today.”
“You’re not chicken, are you?” I prodded.
“Who, me? No way,” he scoffed.
“Then you should totally order it.”
“Naw, I think I’ll be good with a three-egger. Maybe four, if I’m feeling dangerous.”
I cackled, “Chicken! Bock, bock!”
Christos smirked, glancing at Romeo. “Look at this crazy girl, trying to goad me into a gut-bomb.”
Romeo put his hands on his hips and did a head roll. “I don’t know, C-man. A real man never backs down from a challenge.”
“You calling me out, Romeo?” Christos asked confidently. “You ready to go head-to-head?”
Fear pinched Romeo’s face. “Oh, um,” he giggled nervously, “I’m not a real man.” He shrugged his shoulders.
Christos smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
“Come on, Christos,” I jabbed, “you don’t get off that easily. I’m still issuing the challenge, for the Challenge,” I winked at him, “no pun intended.”
Christos sighed indulgently. “Give it a rest, Samantha.”
“I knew it!” I squealed. “You’re just chicken! I’m totally not buying your whole ‘I’m too cool for gruel’ routine. Be a man, Christos. Show us what you’ve got. Order the Challenge.”
Christos tilted his head at me with a mildly annoyed look on his face, then held his hand up and tipped it behind him, pointing at a wall covered in row upon row of little brass plaques. His finger pointed decisively at one specific plaque.
Not getting it, I frowned. “What?”
“Go ahead and look, big mouth,” he said confidently.
I squinted.
“Do you need me to pick you up so you can read it?”
“No,” I said dismissively, “I can do it myself.” I stood on my tiptoes to read it.
“Christos “The Man” Manos
7-21-2010
17 MIN.”
“What!” I gasped. “No way!” I scanned the other plaques. Most seemed to be in the 30, 40, and 50 minute category. “Seventeen minutes has to be the record!”
“Last I heard,” Christos said casually, “the record was seven-fifteen. Guy had a hollow leg.”
Beside me, Romeo scrutinized the plaque. “Wow, C-man, you sure have a manly appetite.”
“Thanks, bro,” he grinned.
“I’m pretty manly too,” Romeo fawned, “does that mean you’ll eat me?”
Christos chuckled, “You just said you weren’t a real man a minute ago. I’d probably starve.” He gave Romeo a good natured back-smack.
“He’s right,” Romeo said to me, unashamed. “I’ll have to start hitting the gym if I ever want Christos to take a bite out of me.”
“You are so totally dick sick, Romeo,” I laughed.
Skylar the hostess called our name apathetically and took us to our table. Hungover Kamiko managed to make the daunting trek under her own power. Romeo offered to help her, but she pushed him away and said, “I’m man enough.”
We all sat down and Kamiko whooshed a sigh. “Do they have Bloody Marys? I so need one,” she said while flipping through her menu.
“I don’t remember you ever liking Bloody Marys,” Romeo said, concerned.
Kamiko glared at him over her movie-star sunglasses, “And?”
“Maybe you should stick to OJ?” Romeo suggested tentatively.
“You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that before? I can’t stand tomato juice first thing in the morning.” She licked her lips. “I’m totally going to have a Screwdriver instead.”
Romeo goggled at me. “What did we do to her last night?”
“I think maybe champagne is her kryptonite,” I suggested, somewhat worried myself. “It must be her one weakness. She drank so much on the yacht, it’s tipped her over the edge.”
“That’s right!” Kamiko beamed. “Thank you guys! I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted a Mimosa all along!”
I wanted to glare at Kamiko and steer her back on the straight and narrow with some tough love. But frankly, I was afraid that if I said anything she would bite my face. So I glared at Romeo instead, because I needed to glare at
“Don’t look at me, Sam!” Romeo pleaded. “The yacht trip was Christos’ idea!”
I glared at Christos and folded my arms across my chest. “That’s right! It
“It’s not like I was handing her drinks all night,” Christos said calmly. “She’s a big girl. But if this keeps up, I’ll be happy to stage an intervention.”
“Calm down, you guys,” Kamiko said forcefully. “I think I had maybe five glasses all night. I would’ve stuck to my limit of two if
Christos chuckled.
“Brandsome?” Romeo chuffed. “You mean
Kamiko smiled bashfully.
“You’re crushing on Brandon?” I blurted.
“So?” Kamiko blushed, “he’s hot, isn’t he? Is that okay with you guys?”
The waitress arrived to take our drink orders. At the last second, Kamiko ordered straight orange juice instead of a Mimosa. My mounting guilt over corrupting her innocence subsided instantly.
When the waitress was gone, Romeo asked, “Who’s ready for classes to start tomorrow?”
“I think I need a week’s vacation after last night,” Kamiko groaned. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on top of them.
“What classes are you guys taking this quarter?” Christos asked.
“I think Kamiko’s taking Napping 101,” Romeo joked.
“Grrrr,” Kamiko mumbled.
I totally didn’t want to think about college right now. It reminded me that I had another Accounting class to look forward to for ten more weeks, plus more Sociology and History. I did have Oil Painting, and I was happy about that. I’d signed up for it at the last minute, a fact which my parents didn’t know. But the thought of accounting turned my stomach. Meh.
“I can’t wait to start the term,” Romeo beamed. “I’m taking Intro to Acting, Intro to Playwriting, Figurative Sculpting, and last but not least, Oil Painting 10, with Sam and Kamiko.”
I goggled. “What? Those are all classes? Like, actual college classes?”
“Yeah,” Romeo said quizzically. “I am double-majoring in Art and Theater, remember?”
“But your schedule sounds like…fun,” I sighed.
“You’re taking Oil Painting with me,” he said encouragingly, having sensed my distress. “That’s going to be a ton of fun.”
Maybe it really was time for me to change my major to Art. I couldn’t let Romeo have all the fun. But the mere thought of it made me nauseous. What would my parents say? Maybe I didn’t have to tell them. Not right away, anyway. I could wait a few days before giving them reason to kill me. Groan!
Our breakfast arrived shortly thereafter.
Kamiko snored through hers, Christos had a conservative four egg omelet, and I pretended that my future wasn’t a Bill & Linda Smith-shaped time-bomb waiting to blow up in my face. Sigh.
