Frankie brought back the lemonade. It spilled on the table when he set it down. He said, “Oops,” and set Joe’s water down carefully. And then he just stood there.
I said, “More time.”
Frankie looked at Joe.
Joe said, “Ox,” and he was amused.
And a woman behind me said, “Ox?”
Joe growled low in his chest. Frankie arched an eyebrow at him.
I turned. Jessie was being seated at a table behind us with a woman I didn’t recognize. I said, “Hi, Jessie.”
Frankie said, “So, Joe. I was thinking.”
Joe said, “Well, hey, Jessie.”
She looked over my shoulder. “Hey, Joe. It’s nice to see you.” There was a small smile on her face like she knew something I didn’t. She said, “Out on the town?” and I knew.
I said, “Yeah,” but kept my face and tone blank.
Frankie said, “Joe, I was thinking. There’s this—”
Joe said, “So, Jessie. I think I might have your class next semester.”
I said, “Oh no.”
Jessie said, “Is that right?”
Frankie said, “Yeah, me too,” and everyone but me ignored him. I tried to make him leave by willpower alone. It didn’t work.
“Should be exciting,” she said. “We’ll be reading some great books. Some cool projects going on. You can’t call me Jessie in class, though. You’ll need to call me—”
Joe said, “Is that right? I can hardly wait.” He didn’t sound like he meant that at all.
I said to Frankie, “We aren’t ready to order yet,” because he wasn’t getting the message.
The woman Jessie was with said, “Ox? Oh, isn’t that your…?” She trailed off, having the decency to blush.
“Yes,” Jessie said. “That’s Ox.”
“He’s so… big,” the woman said as if I wasn’t sitting right there. “Look at his hands.”
Everyone looked at my hands. I hid them in my lap.
Jessie grinned and said, “You know what they say about a man with big hands—”
“We’re on a date,” Joe said quite loudly.
Frankie said, “You’re what? But he’s so old.”
Jessie said, “You’re what? But he’s so young.”
Joe and I said, “Hey,” at the same time, sounding equally offended.
“He’s only twenty-three,” Joe said.
I said, “He’s almost eighteen.” And god, that argument sounded awful.