Page 28 of Check You Out

“I don’t know. So, what dangerous sport did you play?”

“Debate Club and Model UN,” he replies while perusing the menu.

“Me too! Wait, what high school did you go to? We might have debated each other.”

“Centennial. I don’t remember competing against Summerville.”

I study the mirrored ceiling for a moment. “Oh, I do. We argued about school uniforms. It was the state semifinals too.” I blink. “Some guy made my debate partner cry because her sources weren’t good enough or something. Wait, was that you?”

His mouth parts and his eyes widen. “Oh my god, I forgot about that. I remember that now. That was definitely not me. That was Josh. And he was a little too intense.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He made me cry a couple times too. I recall someone yelling at him.”

I grin. “That was me. We had good sources, and he just didn’t like that our argument was better than yours.”

Aidan lifts a shoulder. “He wasn’t good at debate, anyways. Too competitive. Debating is about presenting the best possible argument, and hopefully the judge agrees.”

I chuckle. There’s something different about Aidan today. He’s softer, more open. He’s more active in conversation, and his dimples keep on reappearing. It’s like another layer has been peeled back and he’s showing me more pieces of himself.

Was Nicole right? Does he actually like me?

Before either of us can say anything else, a waitress comes to the table to take our drink orders. Aidan adds an order of loaded potato skins, and I raise my eyebrows at him.

“They’re really good.” He grins and adds with a wink, “Trust me.”

The waitress leaves, and I continue to scan the novel of a menu.

“Do they really serve breakfast all day?” I ask when I get to the end.

“Yes. Try the pancakes.”

I look up at him from the menu and grin. “It feels illegal to have breakfast for dinner.”

“Last I checked, it’s not illegal to order breakfast for dinner,” he says with a wave toward the menu. “Get. The. Pancakes.”

I snap the menu shut. “My decision has been made. I’m getting the chocolate chip pancakes.” Sighing, I add, “Do you cook?”

He shrugs and scrunches his mouth. “I think so. No one has died from my cooking yet. I refuse to do anything with an open flame.”

“Open flame?” I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

“A grill. Or a gas stove. Do you know how many fires start in kitchens each year?” he asks, and I shake my head. “A lot. People have lost their lives, and trillions of dollars of damage, all due to kitchen fires.”

“You wanted to be a firefighter when you grow up, didn’t you?”

His eyes blow wide. “Absolutely not. Fire and I are not friends.”

The waitress drops off our drinks and potato skins and takes our orders. I stick to ordering chocolate chip pancakes, while Aidan orders crème brûlée banana pancakes.

I smile. “What was it like growing up in Howard County? Is it really the utopia that people talk about?”

“It’s not a utopia.” Aidan frowns. “Taxes are high, and there’s an increasing gap in economic inequality. Home prices are rapidly increasing due to the rise of corporations purchasing houses. The homeless population is increasing due to the rising cost of living and stagnant wages. Major corporations are pushing out small businesses with their competitive prices and financial backing from shareholders…” He eyes me warily before his voice trails off. “Um, sorry. I’m just passionate about, uh, things.”

My mouth drops. “Wow. You are going to have an amazing speech.” I lean back against the bench. “What inspired you to take an interest in local politics?”

“I don’t know.” His gaze falls to the small plate in front of him. “I just see things wrong with the world, and I want to fix them. It’s part of why I got into teaching. I want to make a difference.”

“I like that. Have you done anything like this before? Like be on a committee?”

He nods. “What’s with all the questions?” He folds his arms onto the table.