Nine #2
Thomas and Vince get up and stride to the counter to place our food and drink orders—three waters—before coming back to sit down.
Vince orders the extra-hot beef empanadas.
Thomas chooses enfrijoladas, which, if I understand the menu correctly, are folded tortillas covered in black bean sauce, cheese, and salsa.
I would be trapped in my usual indecision if Thomas didn’t just go ahead and order for me: the chicken fajitas, an order of empanadas, and the nachos.
Thomas rubs a thumb along his forehead and wrinkles up his nose. “I ordered you a lot of stuff, Ness. I wonder if you can eat all that.”
“I’m hungry,” I answer decisively.
“Little Gem, they serve generous portions here,” Vince agrees, also sounding skeptical.
I look away from him and back at Thomas. “I’m hungry, though.”
After a moment of silence—during which they exchange another doubtful look—they shrug.
Another patron strolls by from across the room, apparently on his way back from the restroom, and gives me a smile that would be polite, except for the few seconds his eyes linger on the neckline of my dress.
I clear my throat uncomfortably while staring at the menu.
As soon as I finish, though, I’m startled by a glacial voice, full of disdain.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
I grab Thomas’s thigh underneath the table out of instinct and squeeze it tightly, willing him to not make a scene.
The guy turns in Thomas’s direction, confused. “I beg your pardon?”
Thomas looks at him with blazing eyes. “Oh, you’d better beg, because if I catch you looking at my girl’s tits one more time, I’ll make sure that the next thing you see is the lid of your fucking coffin.”
A vast disheartening silence settles over all of us. I put my face in my hands, while Vince presses his fist into his mouth to keep from bursting out into laughter. There’s nothing funny about this , I want to snap at him.
“I–I wasn’t…I wasn’t looking…” the guy stammers, trying to defend himself, embarrassment written all over his face. Thomas doesn’t let him finish, though, but instead abruptly points across the room.
“Go back to your seat; you’re done here,” he orders him angrily.
The guy doesn’t need to be told twice—he vanishes immediately. Thomas must be able to feel my indignant look on the side of his face because he turns his irritable gaze on me. “That guy couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“It didn’t seem that way to me. But you do realize that you can’t threaten to murder anyone who looks at me, right?”
“I feel like we’ve already addressed this topic,” he declares arrogantly, lightly brushing his jeans as if clearing away invisible crumbs.
“Thomas, I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I,” he fires back insolently.
“Let me try to understand you here; what were you expecting me to do? Just ignore the fact that he was undressing you with his eyes right in front of me? Am I supposed to pat him on the back and buy him a beer? Or maybe I’m supposed to slip him your number and invite him to shoot his shot?
Maybe if he plays his cards right, he can see the rest of you tonight too? ”
I stiffen, eyes wide with hurt. I must have misheard him. I must have seriously misheard him. I harden my gaze and channel all my fury into my voice. “What did you just say to me?”
“Woah, woah… Okay, folks…I know we’re all a little amped up tonight, but let’s try to keep calm.
Let’s all just take a deep breath, have a nice drink of water, and pull ourselves together here.
” Vince’s eyes move from me to Thomas as he nudges our respective water glasses toward us.
“Let’s try not to end tonight in a fight, thanks. ”
“Apologize to me right now.”
“ Me apologize?” Thomas exclaims, grimacing as he turns to face me.
I nod emphatically.
He breaks eye contact and gives Vince a derisive look, shaking his head at me.
“Do you even realize what you just implied about me? Do you think I’m slutty?” I ask through gritted teeth.
But the only thing that comes out of Thomas’s face is an arrogant snort.
“Bro, I am begging you, for the love of God, just tell her you’re sorry so we can get past this,” Vince pleads, exhausted.
But Thomas ignores us both, playing with one of the thick steel rings on his thumb. And that’s the last straw for me.
“Thomas, if you don’t apologize to me, I swear I’m leaving.
” And this time, I am completely serious.
I don’t care if his arrogant pride prevents him from taking anything back, humbling himself, or apologizing.
Nor do I care that his lack of impulse control means he often says things he doesn’t really mean.
I’m not going to sit here and pretend he didn’t just insult me.
Thomas’s back straightens at my threat to walk out of the restaurant. “You’re not going anywhere,” he snaps. “And if you want to avoid this kind of scene in the future, here’s some advice: the next time you leave the house”—he scans my body—“get dressed first.”
I stare at him, blanching, while Vince closes his eyes and gently thunks the table with his forehead.
“I am dressed,” I reply icily, giving him the dirtiest of looks.
“And that was a real asshole thing to say. So you’re hypocritical as well as sexist!
The fact that I’m wearing a short dress doesn’t give anyone the right to leer at me like a creep.
And it doesn’t give you”—I stab a finger at him furiously—“the right to make me feel like I’ve done something wrong and brought this on myself. Move; I’m getting out of here.”
Thomas chews on his lower lip, scrubbing his face with his hand before exclaiming, “Come the fuck on! I know it’s not your fault, and I know it’s not the dress. Obviously, it’s not. I’m just pissed because that guy wouldn’t take his eyes off you. I wasn’t trying to offend you or be disrespectful.”
I stare back at him, my eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s it? That’s your apology?” I demand with a disdainful air.
“Bro,” Vince says, laughing across the table, “you must have a real primo dick, because you sure are terrible at this.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my sockets, while my cheeks redden.
Thomas drinks his glass of water in one gulp, leaving a single mouthful, which he splashes at Vince.
“Knock it off. I’m not good at this sort of thing,” he says defensively before turning back to look at me.
“I am sorry, truly. I didn’t mean what I said, about you… about the dress…”
I look at him for a long time. His eyes are full of what appears to be sincere regret. I heave a long sigh and point at him. “Fine, you get a pass this time, but you have got to stop reacting like that.”
I’m half-expecting him to come back with one of his typical quips, all I do what I want, blah, blah, blah , but instead he just gives me a look halfway between a smile and a grimace, and nods.
Then, to completely dissipate the tension, our number is called, and Vince goes to the counter and comes back with our meals, steaming hot and looking delicious.
I immediately realize that Vince was telling the truth: These portions are generous.
But the boys are extremely incorrect if they think that I won’t be able to put away every last bit of this bounty.
“Mmm, that smell…” I close my eyes and inhale, ecstatic.
We devour our dinner while chatting in an atmosphere that is, finally, relaxed.
Vince does get a little hot under the collar when he tells Thomas about some disagreement between the football guys and the soccer guys, the latter of whom are about to “catch an ass whupping” as he says, if they don’t chill out.
He asks me what I think, but I’m honestly too busy savoring my empanadas to pay attention.
I spout something vague in support of him and keep eating.
After Thomas clears his plate in record time, he declares himself full.
Spreading his legs slightly, he rests one hand on his abdomen, while the other lies along the back of my chair.
As he talks to Vince, he twirls strands of my hair around his fingers.
It’s something he does often, and I get the feeling that it relaxes him. And every time he does it, I melt.
Every now and then he turns to watch me eat and smiles. It’s embarrassing, being watched as I fall on my food like a hungry lioness on a gazelle, but he seems to find it entertaining. Maybe even cute, judging by the look he gives me.
Despite the guys’ lack of faith in me, I manage to finish everything on my plate, even if it does feel like I’m literally going to burst. By the time the bill comes, it’s a struggle to even stand up.
Thomas, who never misses an opportunity to laugh at me, cracks up over the mournful faces I make while complaining about having eaten too much.
We fight over the bill a little, but in the end, he prevails and gets dinner for us all.
After leaving, we take Vince back to his dorm on campus, and then, after a short walk through the rows of now bare trees, we arrive at the frat house. The place that will be my home for the next few months.