Trish isn't too happy when she discovers that Ollie's, along with the rest of the Unicentre because of the heat problems. I can hear the vents trying to work, though. I manage to mollify my best friend by suggesting the Lone Star on Merivale Road and adding their nachos to the drink I'm buying for her. The drive to the restaurant is quiet; I'm still trying to accept the idea that I'm magical and Trish is still upset. It's going to be a long day if she holds her grudge, and I've seen her hold some for days. I've never been on the receiving end, but I think my luck there has run out.
I park in the small strip mall the restaurant is in. Trish is out of the car before I even have the engine off. I slip out of the car and close the door gently. Trish doesn't quite slam the door, but the intent is there. The air is even chillier around her. I lead the way to the entrance and get a table for us. The hostess leads us to our seats and leaves us with menus.
"Trish . . .." I begin, not sure where I'm going.
"Yes?" Trish's tone is neutral. Not quite emotionless; there's some hidden behind her voice, but nothing is revealed.
My mouth is dry as I try to speak. "I'm sorry."
"Yes?"
She's going to make it tough on me. I must have really freaked her out. "For what I did. For worrying you. For running out and not telling you anything."
"I'm sure you had a reason."
"Trish, I am really sorry. Honest. Things happened that I couldn't explain and I freaked out. I should have told you right out what's happening instead of doing what I did."
Trish just stares at me. "What happened?"
I hesitate. 'I'm a mage,' is not going to fly. "I met someone online, he gave me links to a beta for a new game, things got weird both there and in real life." Brief version of the past few days.
"And that caused you to run out of the apartment today acting like you were off to meet a serial killer?"
"I thought I was being stalked and thought the guy who gave me the links might know more. He didn't, but we got to talking and I should have called you and I'm sorry for that, too."
Trish looks down at her menu, skimming over the offerings available. She's far too quiet. I get ready for whatever she has to say. "I see."
"You do?"
"Yes."
I blink. Not the reaction I was expecting. "I don't think I do."
Trish doesn't look up from the menu. "You forgot about me."
"I didn't mean to, Trish."
She looks up. "He better have been cute."
Relief fights with embarrassment in me. "I . . . he . . ." I feel my cheeks growing hot. "Um."
"Spill. Now." She sets down the menu and leans in closer. "What does he look like? When are you going out with him again?"
"We haven't gone out at all yet."
Trish gives me her sly smile. "Yet."
"It's not like that."
"Oh? Is he cute?"
"Yes, but --"
Trish smirks as she interrupts me. "So why aren't you going out with him? You must have his phone number or his email address or something."
"I have his business card and --"
"Even better! Let me see!"
"What? Wait, no, Trish, I don't even know if he thinks of me as a possible date."
She sighs. "Jackie, Jackie, Jackie." She shakes her head, her red curls bouncing. "Jackie, take the initiative. Carpe diem. Fish the day!" Trish laughs at her joke.
"Ask him out? Trish, I--"
"Yes you can, Jackie. It won't kill you." An idea occurs to her. "Unless you've called that guy from Saturday."
"Steve?" My head whirls at the speed of the conversation. "No, I haven't called him."
"Oh, Jackie." Trish returns to reading the menu. "I don't believe you."
"Like he'll want to go out with me again. I was sick when I left him. Not what I'd call great date material."
"Fine, do what you want. I'll make sure your parents know you're safe in your room next time they call. Shall I deliver your mail there?"
"Droll, Trish."
"Figured out what you want yet? Because I haven't eaten because someone left me worried about her safety and the fajitas are smelling really good right now."
I think I deserved that. "Hint received, Trish."
"With chicken." She gives me a pointed look.
"Both hints received. I'll call."
"Both?"
I stare at Trish. "Both?"
"Don't schedule the dates on the same day. And let them do the asking. Let them think it was their idea."
The waitress comes by to get our orders. Trish asks for a margarita. My bank card is already screaming. I order a beer and the chicken fajitas. Our server takes all this down with a smile and leaves.
"Trish, I don't think I'm ready for that."
"I'm not saying sleep with them both on the first date." Trish moves aside to let the waitress set down her drink. The colourful concoction even has an umbrella in it. "You're not ready for that."
"Oh, gee, thanks." I take the beer from the waitress and have a sip.
Trish watches the waitress leave. "Call them, Jackie. At least let Steve know you haven't died."
"All right, when we get home, I'll call him."
"Yeah, right."
"You can watch me make the call, okay?" I take a deeper draught of my Canadian. At least Trish isn't angry with me anymore.
"I'll hold you to that."
Desperate to change the subject, I ask, "How did the project thing go today?"
Trish shrugs. "Cold and useless. I can't believe we don't have a topic yet. We've got two more weeks and we can't even agree on what we're doing. We are so hosed."
"Welcome to the world of project work."
"I don't get it. We used to do so well in high school doing the same thing."
"That's because we knew where our strengths were. I did the research, you did the writing, anyone else with us could pitch in wherever. Go Team Us!"
Trish takes another sip of her margarita. "I suppose. Want to change majors?"
"I don't think I could handle the essays you have to write. Pass, thanks. Hey, what if you worked on the project somewhere warmer?"
"Like where, the apartment?"
"Sure, why not? It's quiet, usually. I can make myself scarce so you have no distractions."
Trish thinks over the idea for a moment. "Getting everyone together is the tough part."
"Yeah, I know. Getting schedules to mesh is a bitch."
"Unless . . .."
"Unless . . .?"
"Sunday morning. I can make breakfast for the team, guide them by withholding coffee and toast until they agree with me. Yes, that'll work wonders." Trish looks over at me. "You don't mind, do you?"
I shouldn't have tried to help. There goes any plans to sleep in. "Sure. I'll be in my room. I'll just come out for coffee so I don't disturb you."
"Great!"
The fajitas arrive. Trish and I dig in. I'm hungrier than I thought. Must be the panic I was in earlier. It left me famished once the adrenaline drained away. I'll have to go for a workout later, assuming Carleton's gym has heat again. The plate of fixings disappears, leaving two very satisfied women.
Trish gets up to visit the ladies' room. I get my debit card out so I can pay for lunch. The next co-op work term won't come soon enough for bank account's taste. I'm comfortable, but a few more meals like this and I'll have to find a part-time job. Fortunately, this is rare, eating out. Trish prefers to cook at home, and I can find my way around a kitchen when I need to. The luxury of being served is good to have, especially around exam time, or, like today, to help soothe hard feelings.
I'm done paying by the time Trish returns. She sits down with a crazy smile on her face. That always worries me. Everytime she has that expression, she has an idea that results in difficult explanations to parents. One summer in camp, I wound up with poison ivy in places too embarrasing to tell even Mom, maybe especially Mom, thanks to one of Trish's schemes.
"When was the last time we had a barbeque?" Trish asks.
That wasn't the question I was expecting. I shrug as I try to remember. "I'm not sure, Trish. Over the summer, maybe the Canada Day long weekend? Why?"
"It's been too long if you can't remember." The crazy smile is still plastered in place.
I narrow my eyes. "What do you have in mind?"
"Massive barbeque on Friday. We invite everyone. People can bring what they want, burgers, steaks, hot dogs, you name it. We'll stock up on beer and wine and provide some crash space on the floor." Her eyes light up at the possibilities.
"Friday?" I'm still waiting for the catch.
"Sure! I'll invite Simon. You can invite Steve or the guy you met today or whoever."
That's what I was waiting for. "Trish, I don't know."
"What's not to know? It's a chance to get to know him better, and I'll be around if you have problems."
"It's not going to be just Simon and whoever, is it?"
"Hard to have a party with just four people." Trish flips her hair back. "This is stress relief, not a private orgy."
"Oh, good."
Trish smirks. "That can wait until after exams."
"Trish . . . All right, a barbeque in the snow could be fun. Friday night, sure. I have nothing planned. Beats going out to the bars."
"That's the spirit." Trish finishes her drink. "We need margarita mix, too. I forgot how wonderful these taste."
I had the mix to the shopping list I'm creating in my head. "Want to stop at the grocery store on the way home?"
Trish shakes her head. "I'm good. I want to figure out who to invite, first. Liquor store might be a better idea."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. I want to get you home so you can make that phone call."
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