A Recipe for Reunion

“No, he’s pretty good-looking. Great body. Kinda like if Bradley Cooper and Hugh Jackman had a love child.”

Maya gaped and fluttered her lashes. “You’re sure you don’t want to date him? ’Cause if you don’t, I will.”

“You’re welcome to him. Honestly, I’ve got other things on my mind.”

Maya peered closely at her. “Like getting your diploma? Does this have something to do with Aaron Caruthers?”

Steph flinched. “No.”

Maya waited, crossing her arms over her chest. Steph exhaled gruffly.

“Okay, maybe. I want him to stop thinking I’m stupid.”

Her friend frowned severely. “You’re not stupid, Steph. You have to stop saying that about yourself.”

Steph grimaced. The truth was there were times she felt dumb. Sometimes she had trouble understanding what people were saying. She’d think she was listening only to realize that she wasn’t, and was too embarrassed to ask for clarification. In her freshman year of high school, she’d asked her geography teacher, Mr. Wiltshire, to repeat something she hadn’t understood. He’d called her a “bimbo” and an “airhead” who should stick to cheerleading.

She got that some people, teachers included, had a hate-on for the “popular kids,” the ones who got special treatment because of their status on sports teams. But Mr. Wiltshire had been exceptionally judgmental. For a moment there, Aaron had reminded her of him, with his disapproving looks and buttoned-up facade. He’d made her remember the difference between her and the other kids in school.

Maybe that was why she’d left Georgette’s, even after she’d told herself she wouldn’t. She’d thought he was making fun of her, so she’d bolted. It’d always been easier to give up than risk failure and utter humiliation.