“I agreed to have dinner with you amidst my very demanding schedule. Let’s get on with it, King.”
“Damn,” I said, raising my hands. “You’re not playing.”
“No, I’m not.”
She might be playing the cold-shouldered tough-girl type, but I would break down those walls. When I did, I would see what’s really behind that sexy teacher facade.
She nodded at my black and yellow Camaro parked on the side of the street.
“That your ride?”
“Yeah. You like it?”
“As long as it gets us to our destination.” She walked down the stairs and toward the car with me close behind as if not to give me the satisfaction. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“This place called Papa Sal’s.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s a few miles from here.”
“Oh?” She stopped at the passenger door. “Don’t want one of your football buddies or booty calls to see you out with a brain?”
“Damn, you really don’t trust me, do you?” I asked, shaking my head. She’s not going to make this easy.
“I’m just familiar with guys like you.”
As she opened the door and got in the passenger seat, I walked around the front of the muscle car. When I got settled behind the steering wheel, I fired up the engine. Heavy Metal blared from the speakers. I quickly shut it off.
“You listen to that shit?”
“It helps get me pumped.”
“I see,” she said, raising her brows.
We drove toward the interstate to head to Harrison, a small town to the east of Buffalo. She was really keeping me on my toes. I could have gone for some uncharted territory.
“Watch your speed,” she said as she glanced at the dash.
“I’m going to pass one of your tests by the end of the night,” I said, chuckling.
“Good luck. I’m not easily impressed. Although…” She looked out the window. “You know how to play some football.”
I smiled.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate these days,” she said. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I know what you mean. All I do is practice, play and go to classes. By the way, how did you do on the pop-quiz? A dinner-worthy grade, I assume? Otherwise I guess we’ll have to turn back around.”
“Well, better take this exit then. Apparently, my calculations were off. She didn’t have one today.”
“At least you’re ready now.”
“Yeah, unless all the information seeps out of my brain.”
We both got quiet as I pulled off the highway, slowing down on the exit ramp. About a mile down the road, a red and orange neon sign for Papa Sal’s popped into view.