Kass
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into seeing a chick flick,” Eduardo joked as he and Kass walked out of the movie theater at the Grove shopping center. It was Saturday night, and the place was jam-packed.
“Yeah, well, last time it was that postapocalyptic thriller with naked green space-alien women. So I figured it was only fair,” Kass joked back.
He laughed and draped his arm around her shoulders. The gesture was casual, but simultaneously not casual. In the last few weeks, Kass and Eduardo had entered that gray area, the one between “just friends” and “something more.” They’d been on three outings—Kass refused to think of them as dates—and each time, she liked him more and more.
And he seemed to feel the same. Last weekend, he’d almost kissed her after smoothies at Dlush. But she’d balked, bending down to tie her shoe (which didn’t need tying) . . . and the moment had passed, and she’d started babbling awkwardly about Professor Mueller’s recent lecture on economic indicators. Eduardo must think she was crazy.
What did she want, anyway? Hadn’t she signed up for Lovematch.com to find a love match? Wasn’t Eduardo a prime candidate? He was cute, supersmart, sweet, and funny. They liked so many of the same things—not just movies and high finance but obscure novels, politics, the Food Network, and old TV shows.
And it wasn’t as though she wasn’t attracted to him. She was, big-time. She’d even had a dream about him the other night that was seriously X-rated, involving handcuffs and a Nordstrom dressing room and—
“Hey, Earth to Kass. Are you hungry? I know a great taco stand at the Farmers Market.” Eduardo was smiling at her curiously.
“What? Oh, sure!”
“Awesome. Tacos, it is, then.”
They strolled slowly past the lit-up fountain in the middle of the plaza, which Kass had always loved. Her father used to bring the three girls to the Grove a lot—especially during the holidays, to catch the big tree and the fake snow falling at night. He always made sure to get in line with the other parents to see Santa, who held court for all the spoiled brats dressed in their Armani Baby and Ralph Lauren outfits.
Christmas was coming up in a couple of months. Another Christmas without him.
Kass sighed heavily.
“You okay?” Eduardo asked her.
She instinctively nestled into the crook of his arm. “Yeah. Just hungry, I guess.”
“We’d better feed you right away, then.”
They headed over to the Farmers Market next door. The Farmers Market was another one of Kass’s favorite spots in L.A. There were dozens of food stands under one roof, everything from Korean barbecue to French crêpes.
Eduardo led her to the taco stand and ordered for both of them. “Fish tacos, chips, pico de gallo, and a couple of Coronas. Is that okay with you?”
“Sounds perfect.”
When they got their food, they sat down at a rickety metal table. The place was packed, with the usual mixed crowd of couples, families with small kids, college students, tourists, and senior citizens. From the other end of the market, Kass could hear the faint strains of a live band playing zydeco music.
“So.” Eduardo squeezed a lime wedge into his beer and took a sip. “I was thinking of driving to San Diego next Saturday, Sunday. There’s this new film festival going on, and my friend has a documentary in it.”
“Oh? That sounds cool. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”
Eduardo grinned. “I was thinking that you might come with me.”
“Oh!”
Kass picked up her fish taco and bit into it. It was delicious, or it would be, except that she suddenly couldn’t taste the food because her mind was racing with this new development. Eduardo was asking her to go to San Diego with him. For the whole weekend. Did that mean he was escalating their “just friends” status? Would they be sharing a room? And if they were sharing a room, did that mean . . .
“I . . . hmm . . . well . . . it sounds amazing,” Kass said finally. “I’ll have to check with my mom about my schedule at the restaurant, though. And I have this killer paper due for Professor Nazari week after next, and I haven’t even started on it.”
Eduardo gazed at her thoughtfully. “Okay. Just let me know. And . . . Kass?”
“Yes?”
“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. But you know how I feel about you.”
I do? Kass thought. And then she remembered that he had tried to kiss her last week.
“Maybe you and I want different things,” Eduardo went on. “I like hanging out with you. But I kind of want more. Do you know what I mean?”
“Mmm.”
“So. Anyway, think about San Diego and let me know.”
“I will. Hey, did you catch Top Chef the other night? Was that Elimination Challenge insane or what?”
As Kass rambled on about Top Chef, she was vaguely aware of Eduardo’s eyes flicking across her face, her long light brown hair, her tighter-than-usual black T-shirt. (Had she washed it in the wrong temperature?) His look was charged with longing, which made her feel kind of warm and tingly, if she had to be honest. But his look was a little sad, too, and mystified, like he was wondering why they weren’t at his place or hers right now, getting naked and doing all sorts of unmentionable things.
Blushing, Kass dropped her gaze to the table and busied herself with the pico de gallo.
When Kass got home that night, Kamille was in the living room, dancing to Madonna’s “Express Yourself.” She was wearing nothing but a red baby-doll nightie and leopard-print mule slippers.
“Ohmigod, where’s Ballboy? Am I interrupting some weird mating ritual?” Kass said, dropping her backpack and keys on the couch.
Kamille giggled. “He’s out with his friends. And stop calling him Ballboy!”
“Okay, so you’re practicing to be a stripper. Are the modeling gigs drying up already?”
“You are such a bitch. Shut up!” Kamille picked up a silk pillow and flung it at Kass.
Kass ducked, laughing. “I’ve got some leftover tacos. Want some?”
“I had a salad. Giles said I have to watch my weight.”
“Why? He’s an idiot, Kam, you’re perfect!”
“Not really. Hey, you want a drink? I think we have a bottle of white wine in the fridge.”
Kass plopped down on the couch and leafed through a stack of unopened mail. “No, thanks. I had a beer tonight. One’s my limit, you know that.”
“Wuss.” Kamille sat down on the couch next to Kass and put her head on her shoulder. “Kassie?”
“What?”
“What do you think of Chase? Honestly? You’ve met him a bunch of times now. But you haven’t said a word about him.”
Kass hesitated. She had seen Chase on exactly three occasions: twice at a Sunday Night Dinner, and once, when Kamille had brought him to Café Romero. There was no doubt that he was very charming and very, very hot.
But. She’d caught him checking out one of the waitresses at the restaurant when Kamille was in the ladies’ room. And she knew about his tabloid reputation because Kyle had gleefully filled her in. (That girl seriously needed to get off the Internet and get a life.)
Or was Kass being unfair? Maybe she’d misinterpreted that look he gave the waitress? And tabloids weren’t exactly a reliable source of information.
It was also possible that Kass was suffering from a huge case of sour grapes. Kamille’s modeling career was blossoming. She had a famous boyfriend whom she seemed to really like. Kass, on the other hand, was all about work, work, work—and unable to move forward in her relationship with a great guy, for whatever reason.
Kamille was waiting for an answer. “I like Chase. He’s fine,” Kass replied vaguely.
Kamille frowned. “Fine? Yeah, that’s like when you say something tastes ‘interesting.’ What you really mean is, you don’t like him!”
“That’s not what I—”
“What is wrong with you?” Kamille said, suddenly angry. “And Mommy, too? Chase is the most amazing guy, ever! Don’t you two get it? He’s the love of my life, and when we get married, I want him to feel—”
“Wait, what? When did you get engaged?”
“We’re not engaged. Not yet. But we’re in love, and I know he’s the one, and I want you all to accept him as part of the family.”
“Kam, are you nuts? You’ve been dating for all of what? A month? Or not even?”
“What difference does it make? A week, a month, a year, ten years . . . when you know, you know! Besides, who are you to talk? How are things going with your new boyfriend, what’s-his-name, Eduardo? The one none of us has met?”
“That’s because he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just, uh, hanging out.”
“Have you guys hooked up?”
“Um . . . no.”
Kamille’s expression softened. “Do you want to hook up?”
Kass hesitated. “I’m not sure,” she said after a moment. “I mean, I do. It’s just that . . . what if we go there, and then he dumps me? What if he’s one of those guys?”
“Okay, time out.” Kamille put her hands on Kass’s shoulders. “Sweetie, you’ve had, like, one serious boyfriend your whole life. And you’re twenty-one years old. So Adam Kerrigan dumped you senior year of high school—”
“The day after I finally gave it up for him.”
“—the day after you finally gave it up for him. He was a douche bag. But not every guy is a douche bag. Why don’t you give Eduardo a chance? He sounds supernice, from the, like, one time you told me about him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, well, don’t spend too many years analyzing the situation like you always do, or you might die a virgin.”
“I am not a virgin, I just told you, Adam Kerrigan and I—”
“Whatever. Your chastity belt is on so tight, you might as well be a virgin. I’m not saying that to be a bitch. I’m saying that because I love you, and I want you to be as happy as I am with Chase.”
Kamille reached over and hugged Kass. Kass hugged her back. Was Kamille right? Did she, Kass, need to loosen up a little and let Eduardo score a home run with her?
Or at least get to first base?