Shelter by Tara Shuler Page B

over my fries.
    “Man, what was I thinking?” he mused. “I guess my eyes were much bigger than my stomach. I’ll never be able to eat all of this. Seems a shame to waste it.”
    I could tell Jamie was staring at his food from behind the hair that fell in front of her face as she looked down at the table. He’d loaded up with two slices of pepperoni pizza, an order of onion rings, and a pickle.
    “Jamie, please help me out,” Max pleaded. “Can you take a slice of this pizza so I don’t waste all this food?”
    “Well…” she started to say very quietly.
    “Thanks!” Max said, a huge grin spreading across his face.
    Max shoved a plate of pizza toward Jamie, and then he took a huge bite out of the remaining slice. Jamie stared at the pizza, but didn’t make a move to eat it.
    “Come on, Jamie,” Max said. “Eat up! We’re going to burn a ton of calories today, so we need the energy.”
    Jamie slowly picked up the pizza and took a very tiny bite. Then she placed the slice down on the plate and began to chew behind her hair.
    “Anyone want to try one of my fries?” I asked.
    “I’ll take one,” Max offered, snagging a fry from my basket.
    “Jamie?” I questioned.
    “No thanks,” Jamie answered.
    I shrugged.
    “Can I try an onion ring?” I asked Max.
    “Help yourself,” Max replied, pushing his basket of onion rings a little closer to me.
    I snagged an onion ring and slopped it around in the ketchup that liberally doused my fries. Then I shoved the whole onion ring in my mouth. I glanced at Max, who was now staring at me with an amused grin on his face.
    “What?” I muttered through a mouthful of onion ring.
    “Nothing,” Max said, still grinning.
    “ What? ” I asked again, this time more forcefully.
    “You sure like ketchup, don’t you?” he grinned.
    “Oh,” I said. “Yeah.”
    I picked up the ketchup bottle and completely covered my hot dog with it. It was nearly impossible to see any of the wiener through the thick sheath of ketchup. Then I took a huge bite. Max was grinning again.
    “Will you stop that?” I demanded, glaring at him with my mouth still full.
    “Stop what?” he snickered.
    “Stop staring at me while I eat!” I insisted.
    “Why?” he asked, flashing me a crooked smile.
    “It’s rude!” I hissed.
    “It’s not rude,” he said. “I just like the way you eat.”
    “What do you mean ‘the way I eat?’” I questioned.
    “I like the way you slather everything in twenty pounds of ketchup and take such huge bites,” he clarified.
    I glared at him stormily. Thrusting my chin in the air, I picked up my plate and my basket of fries and – before he had a chance to say a word – I quickly hopped over to the trashcan and hurled them inside.
    “What did you…” Max started to say, looking rather hurt.
    “I’m not giving you any more entertainment with my eating,” I snarled.
    “I was just picking on you,” he said, his face sullen.
    “Whatever,” I snapped.
    I snatched my Diet Coke off the table and whirled around in a huff, hastily departing toward the arcade.
    “Hey, wait!” Max shouted.
    I ignored him and kept walking, my nose still stuck defiantly in the air. I felt a firm grip on my shoulder, and he pulled on my arm to get me to face him.
    “Alice!” he begged.
    Max’s face was very solemn. His dark, brooding eyes caught mine and refused to let go. I tried to look away, but his gaze held me completely transfixed.
    “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
    “You didn’t,” I snapped. “I just don’t like rude people.”
    “Alice,” he breathed. “Forgive me.”
    I searched my brain for something witty to come back with, but my mind was a blank. He was standing so close to me I could feel his breath warm on my face, and his eyes pleaded with sincerity.
    “Fine,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.
    “I think Jamie’s finished with her pizza,” he told me, still holding my elbow. “Let’s go bowl.”
    I