Chapter 6: Appetizers and Ultimatums
That night, my roommate sent me Derek Mason’s personal contact—complete with a winking emoji. When it came time to add him, I hesitated. If I told him who I was, he’d definitely decline.
After thinking it over, I typed: [Hello, Mr. Mason. May I ask you about grad school? Sorry to bother you.]
Ten minutes later, he accepted. Victory. I checked his Facebook—still no selfies, but at least some real-life posts. He seemed a bit more human, less like a school board robot.
Me: [Good evening, Mr. Mason~ I’m Natalie, Noah’s sister.]
Derek Mason: “?”
He was probably wondering how I got his personal account. After a pause, he composed himself: “What’s up? We can talk on my work account.”
Me: [There is something, but it’s not convenient to discuss on the work account.]
He got interested: “What is it? Go ahead.”
I typed, laughing: [I want to talk about someone chasing after you.]
He was typing… for three minutes. I could imagine him, phone in hand, completely thrown off.
His reply landed like a hammer:
[Sorry, Miss Natalie, let me be clear. I have no plans to date right now. Don’t waste your time on me. Also, I don’t really like girls younger than me. You’re great, you can meet people your own age. If there’s nothing else, please delete me. [fist][fist][fist]]
So many words, so many emojis. I nearly blacked out. He went full guidance counselor. Whatever—expected.
I changed tactics: [Mr. Mason, can you bring me some food tomorrow? The breakfast and lunch at your school are seriously amazing.]
He clearly didn’t expect that: “Huh?”
I held back a laugh and played my favorite card:
[If you say no, I’ll just have to put Noah back on cafeteria duty. Your call, Mr. Mason.]
He went silent for ten minutes. I could almost see the struggle on his face.
When I came back from removing my makeup, his reply was waiting:
[Okay, what do you want to eat.]
Classic Derek Mason—always says no, but ends up caving. I grinned at my phone, imagining his expression. I sent him a week’s menu, with a note:
[8 a.m. for breakfast, 12 p.m. for lunch. See you then, Mr. Mason.]
As I left the classroom, I could feel Derek’s eyes on my back. Maybe this was just the start of our little game.
Maybe I didn’t get a love confession, but free food? That’s a pretty good runner-up. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s only the appetizer.