Chapter 10
ZARA
I'm surprisingly nervous waiting for Zara to arrive at the restaurant. I don't think she's going to stand me up, especially when she's the one who suggested we go on a date in the first place, but maybe she's thought about it more and decided she doesn't want this.
A blonde figure wearing a figure-hugging black dress approaches, and all of my worries fade away. She looks good, which isn't a huge surprise considering how much time she spends at cheer practice.
"Hey," she says as she approaches, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
"Hi," I respond.
"So, shall we go get food?" she suggests, gesturing to the restaurant.
I nod and let her head inside. I put my hand on her lower back and she leans into my touch, making me confident about the way the date is going to go.
A waiter leads us over to a table and hands over a couple of menus, leaving us to it.
"I'm starving," Zara says. "We spent five hours working on the routine for finals earlier."
"Five hours of cheer practice?"
"Intense, right?" she jokes. "But we've finally got our routine and learning it is the hard part, so we got that over today."
"So there are a load of grumpy cheerleaders around campus tonight?" I joke.
She laughs. "Maybe. But it'll be worth it."
"When you win?"
"That's the hope," she responds. "So, what are you going to have?"
"Ribs," I respond. "I'm just trying to decide between the sweet BBQ and fiery pepper."
"Fiery pepper, always," she responds. "Though I'll be having mine on chicken. I love ribs, but I'll pay for it if I eat them, and during competition season, that's extra tough."
"Didn't you eat marshmallows yesterday?"
"Yes. But that was an exception," she responds. "Now after we've competed, that's a whole other matter. Then I'll order ribs."
"I'll make sure to bring you back here then," I say without thinking.
"I'd like that." She flashes me a genuine smile.
My heart squeezes in response. There's something about her that seems to connect with me, and I find myself wanting to spend more time with her. Which I suppose is what we're doing here. I never thought I'd feel this way about a cheerleader. Then again, I've never really known one well enough before so I shouldn't jump to conclusions.
"Do you want to share some chips?" she asks. "I love them, but I can't eat a whole portion to myself, not with how much chicken they bring."
"Sure, but only if we can also get a plate of corn on the cob."
"Oh, good choice. I always forget that I love it."
"I only remember when I come to places like this and can ignore the fact it's smothered in an unhealthy amount of butter."
Zara laughs. "Well, it is a date. We're supposed to be having a good time."
"I am." I smile at her.
The waiter appears to take our order and bring over some water for the table, but leaves us in peace quickly enough.
"So, do you have any end-of-the-year competitions for the Fire Tumblers?" she asks.
"No, but we've got a couple of performances left."
"Maybe I could come see one again," Zara says. "I enjoyed watching you at the food festival."
"I noticed. Though that makes a lot more sense now that I know you're a performer yourself."
"Perhaps. But there was something about the way you moved that kept drawing my attention to you," she admits.
"Maybe you were just sensing the dragon within me."
"I guess." She picks up her water and takes a sip. "I've never noticed myself doing that before though. I'm not sure I'm very good at being able to tell what kind of supernatural the people around me are unless I already know. It's easier to pick up on the tells then."
"Mmm, true. Or maybe it's just that we don't pay enough attention to people when we don't know what they are. I'm sure there's lots of stuff we do that makes it obvious we're dragons even if we don't think about it."
"I'm always disappointed if my tea goes cold."
"It should be piping hot," I agree. "Though aren't you an ice dragon? Shouldn't you like things cold?"
"You'd think. But the only thing that's really different is my fire. I like heat as much as the next dragon." She shuffles a bit closer on the bench seat, and I change how I'm sitting to accommodate her.
As far as I know, neither of us thought about the seating in this place before agreeing to come here on our date, but it's a good place for us wanting to sit closer together, and I like that.
"So, other than cheerleading and planning to be a coach, what else do you do?" I ask her.
"Didn't you know that I'm not supposed to have a personality outside of cheerleading?" she jokes. "Most people think that's it."
"It can't be it. You don't cheerlead twenty-four hours a day," I point out.
"True. I love watching cheesy movies and cooking shows. Even though they can be painful when I'm not supposed to eat some of the stuff regularly."
"I can see that being a weird kind of torture."
She laughs, a wonderful sound that I hope I get to hear a lot more of. "It's not as bad as it sounds. Sometimes, I like the challenge of taking an unhealthy meal and making it into a healthy substitute. Some of them don't taste far off."
"That just makes it sound like you want to invite me for a taste test," I joke. "So long as you're not going to try feeding me low sugar no fat chocolate chip cookies, or something like that."
She covers her mouth with her hand as a soft snort escapes her. "Definitely not. Chocolate chip cookies should be left the way they are. It's a crime to try and make them healthier. But I can make lighter chicken nuggets and you wouldn't know the difference. Though I'd still suggest the normal fried kind if you've been drinking."
"I'm intrigued," I admit.
"I'll make them for you at some point."
Our food arrives, cutting the conversation short, but I'm not worried. So far, we've managed without awkward pauses or moments where things are strained. There's no reason to think that will change just because our food is here.
My mouth waters at the sight of my plate of ribs, though Zara's chicken also looks good. She might be compromising by getting it instead of ribs or something fattier, but there's no way she's going to be disappointed by it.
She picks up one of the crispy chips coated in what looks like spiced salt and takes a bite. "Mmm, amazing."
I grab one for myself and pop it into my mouth. "Yep. So good."
"There's nothing like fresh chips. You can't really do them at home the same way."
"I've never really thought about it," I admit. "I'm more of a stick-it-in-the-oven-and-hope-its-edible type."
She wrinkles her nose. "I could never do that," she responds. "Food is for enjoying."
"Oh, I don't disagree. It's just that most of the time I wait until I get too hungry and then it's more of a matter of finding what I can to feed myself."
She laughs and digs into her chicken, seeming very at ease with both the setting and the food we've gotten.
I watch her for a moment, appreciating that she's definitely not as cold and controlled as the rumours around campus say she is. Having seen her in command of her cheer squad, I can kind of see where they come from, but they couldn't be more wrong about her.
Hopefully, I get to see more of this Zara, because I suspect that a lot of people would like her.