Anything but Normal - Melody Carlson [2]
Maybe that was why Sophie took her best friend’s hint and ordered carefully for lunch. Low cal, low carb, and low appeal. When they finally found an available table right in the center of the food court, still cluttered with lunch debris and spilled soda, Sophie sat down and frowned at her lunch. A boring green salad topped with a few anorexic-looking chicken strips. Suddenly she found herself lusting after cheeseburgers, pepperoni pizza, and Carrie Anne’s crispy meat burrito and Mexi fries. Still, she tried not to show it as she unfolded her paper napkin and pasted a smile on her face.
“So what’re you doing for Labor Day?” Carrie Anne asked. “Mom’s driving Bart back to school and won’t be back until Tuesday.” Sophie forked a piece of lettuce. “And Dad plans to keep the tire store open on Monday. Like he thinks everyone and their grandmother will be out shopping for retreads or tire chains that day.” Sophie sighed. “The truth is, he’ll be sitting there watching some lame ball game, pretending to work. Seriously, he needs to join a twelve-step group for ESPN addiction.”
“Why don’t you come out to the lake with us?” Carrie Anne picked up her burrito and took a big bite.
Sophie nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”
“The Stewarts and the Morrises will be bringing their boats too.”
Sophie stopped chewing. The chunk of chicken in her mouth suddenly felt like wood, and when she tried to swallow, it seemed to get stuck in her throat. Panicking, she took a quick gulp of iced tea, then nearly choked. Coughing and sputtering, she covered her mouth with her hands and wondered if she was about to suffocate.
“Are you okay, Sophie?”
She finally swallowed the hard lump of chicken, took a deep breath followed by a careful swig of tea, then nodded with watery eyes. “I’m fine,” she said in a husky voice.
“Man, I was about ready to do the Heimlich on you.”
“Thanks.” Sophie pushed her half-eaten salad away from her.
“Seriously, are you okay?”
“I said I’m fine.”
Carrie Anne blinked. “Well, you don’t have to get mad.”
“I’m not mad.” Sophie focused her attention on folding her napkin into neat triangles, over and over. Kind of like origami, only fatter.
“So anyway, the Stewarts and Morrises will be there, which reminds me”—she shook her finger at Sophie—“you never told me that Dylan Morris was up at Camp Calderwood.”
Sophie shrugged, avoiding Carrie’s gaze. “What’s to tell?” Carrie Anne leaned forward. “Well, you know I’ve had a major crush on Dylan since middle school. Why didn’t you call me and tell me he was up there at camp?”
“Well, for one thing, my cell phone had no connectivity. And besides that, you were teaching Vacation Bible School for all of August, remember?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” She frowned. “Now why exactly did I agree to do VBS in the first place? Especially when I could’ve been up at Calderwood earning some real money and spending time with dreamy Dylan Morris?”
“Uh . . . you mean besides the fact that your dad’s head pastor of our church and your mom is in charge of the kids’ ministry and you basically had no choice in the matter?”
“Right . . .” Then Carrie Anne brightened. “So did you talk to him at all? I mean, did you mention me to him or anything?”
Sophie shrugged again.
“Come on, did you?”
“Yeah . . . I talked to him.”
“About me?” Carrie’s brown eyes were wide and eager.
“I guess . . . your name probably came up.”
“And?”
“And, I don’t know . . . we talked about a bunch of stuff.”
“A bunch of stuff?”
Sophie knew she needed to change the subject. “So, are you ever going to finish your lunch? I mean, I still have a lot of shopping to do, and you’re just sitting there blabbing on and on and not even touching your food and—”
“Sorry,” Carrie Anne snapped. “Excuse me for keeping you waiting.”
Sophie snatched up a couple of Carrie Anne