19 | 𝐷𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑇𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑛

If there was one thing I knew about Sullivan Corbett that not many people knew, it was that he knew a lot about frogs.

In the amount of time I have spent with him whilst working on our project (that has nothing to do with the wonderful topic of amphibians), I have figured out that my all-time-big crush, is a frog expert.

"They actually drink water through their skin, isn't that crazy-cool?" He paused in thought. "I wish I could do that."

"Kids!" his mom called, inviting us to the dinner table.

This would be the second time that I'd meet his parents, but the first that would be considered an official 'meet the parents' or future in-laws. The occasion was oddly... okay. Of course Victor had to calm me over the phone to subdue the uprising panic attack, but other than that, I felt alright.

When we neared the larger than average cherry oak surface, I saw that his father  already sat at the head of the table with rectangular rimmed glasses settled at the tip of his nose. He was in the midst of reading a red binded novel with tiny gold printed letters along the cover.

Damn, he looks pretty smart. The misogynistic type.

"Sullivan didn't tell us you were staying for dinner until a few moments ago. I hope you like what we're having," Mrs.Corbett optimistically said, parading from the kitchen into the dining room with a glass dish.

I quickly shielded my chest with my hands. "If that's alright--"

"Of course it is." This time, Mr. Corbett was talking. He lowered the novel alongside his glasses, leveling his eyes on me. "I don't think we've really met, have we?"

"Uhh--" I glanced over to Sullivan who was now gazing into his phone. "Azariah, but people call me Riyah."

"That's it," shot Mrs. Corbett. "It's definitely a weider name, but the best are," she teased with a quirky smile. She looked a lot like Liv. The hair was almost the same color and her pale complexion had matched his, but Liv's face shape was nearly identical to his father's who wore the all gray balding head look.

Mr. Corbett stood from his spot at the table and drew his hand closer to mine. I nodded slowly. "It's so nice meeting you, Mr. Corbett--"

"Please," he cackled. "Call me Ed."

Sullivan approached a wooden chair and hauled it out, collapsing into it. He stared hungrily at the food as if the waft of aroma trained his eyes to follow. I mimicked his movements and seated myself as I half-glanced to the two glass dishes centered along the dinner table.

Mrs. Corbett upturned her palm to the ceiling with a beaming grin. "Riyah, would you like to say Grace for us?"

Shit. Goddammit. Oh, maybe this was a bad time to curse in God's name. Fuck!

My cheeks started to flare while I nodded gratefully, accepting the offer. "Sure, of course." My hand was suddenly stolen in the grasp of Sullivan's and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

How does one willingly get air to their lungs?

My hand grew sweatier. I could feel it and needed to desperately wipe it along my dark wash jeans. However, the moment was quickly ruined when Mr. Corbett, or Ed, squirmed his hand into my opposing hand also. Mrs. Corbett was seated across from me, but looked expectantly into my soul.

Why couldn't I have ever said Grace before?

"Uh... thanks." I began, fluttering my eyes closed after noticing mine were the only ones left open as I started. "For this... food and this wonderful day." I scanned the room, my eyes now awake as I took notice of the Corbett family's heads tipped towards the empty plates. "And... get rid of evil like things and thank you for that... umm, Jesus."

I hesitated, my breath softly hitching as I felt Sullivan's hand fidget in mine. "Amen!" I announced.

The chorus of their voices followed including the raspy Sullivan voice, "Amen."

"That was..." Mrs. Corbett started. "Lovely."

"Why thank you."

We each started to grab at the pieces of chicken strips laid out in the glass dishes, then I grabbed a spoonful of fresh green beans among my compilation of corn.

"Let's eat," Mr. Corbett sang, digging into the green beans first.

I sliced my chicken tender into a fork sized piece, returning the spikes of the utensil into my mouth and popping the chicken in.

This doesn't taste like chicken.

"Oh, I should've asked you," began Mrs. Corbett with a delicate smile on her face. "I'm into cooking a lot of interesting dishes and these were one of those nights that I went a little overboard with ordering and trying it out."

Mr. Corbett beckoned his hand to my plate. "That's fried rattlesnake you're eating."

I swallowed. "Really?" I choked out, the aftertaste of the kinda muscular yet seafood texture of the snake slithered down my throat and plopped to the pit of my stomach with an echo. "It's... delicious!"

Fuck, are those even green beans?

I squinted at the seafood taste I imagined was sprawled on my plate. I don't like seafood.

"So... umm. You said foriegn?" I asked, digging my fork into the green beans as I watched Sullivan in the corner of my eye chow down on the rattlesnake, crumbs of the fried and breaded bits falling out of the corners of his mouth. He was still fucking beautiful.

"Well, actually," Mrs. Corbett lectured, "I usually do a variety of things including most from Europe, though it's never as authentic as I would like it to be, it's the best I can do. However, fried rattlesnake is a common thing in the southern United States, would you believe that?"

"No," I answered honestly, but I didn't think that question was opinionated.

"Sully told you, right?" she questioned, waving a hand towards her son.

He straightened his posture, food along his cheek. "What?" he spoke with the mushed food revealed in his mouth.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, it's rude," she commented briefly. "My husband and I are going away to Florence this week. Sully said he'd be throwing another party!"

"That's exciting," I boasted, shooting a quick glance to Sullivan who must've not seen my cheeky grin.

"You can even bring your boyfriend," Sullivan mentioned causing my cheeks to flare the darkest shades of reds. I swore I heard his two dogs wheel their husky faces around to see us with wide eyes.

"Boyfriend?" I asked. "I don't have one of those."

Sullivan looked genuinely perplexed. "You and Victor, right?"

"What?" I gaped in reply. "No! I don't--we're not."

"Aw," Mrs. Corbett purred. "I think it's cute that you have a guy like that and I know my son would fight him off if he ever disrespected you," she noted, taking a bite of rattlesnake, causing me to nonchalantly shudder. "How long?"

How long is what, Mrs. Corbett?

"How long have you two been dating?" she rephrased, knowing that my dirty mind got the better of me.

"Uhh-- three months," I said. "Victor and I have been dating for three months."

Fuck--no, no, no. God, no. Why? Why me?

Mr. Corbett nodded and declared, "I'm glad you and Sullivan are friends. And I'm happy that you're in a good healthy relationship," he toasted, raising his fancy alcohol beverage to the sky, along with his wife.

"To Azariah's relationship," she teased.

Followed by Sullivan, then me with boredom. "To my relationship."

I just got friend-zoned by my crush's parents, didn't I?

♡♡♡

My fist pounded onto the door four times, then another four, then another, then another.

"I swear to God, if it's you, Azariah--" The door began to swing open before Victor threw his head back in agony. "Don't you have a bedtime or something, it's nine PM."

I started to walk through when I stopped. "Oh, maybe I should ask if I should come in first," I started.

"Well, this actually isn't really a good--" he started, but a model-like figure appeared behind him. Her dark skin glowed as if it was a lustrous bronze, and her naturally curly hair sat atop her head.

"Oh," I voiced, studying the way that they both looked unkempt and in the middle of something. "Oh!" I exclaimed louder. "This um... I'm going to go--"

"No," Victor deadpanned, latching his hand onto my wrist and dragging me forward in the house. "Listen, sorry, but you got to go," he told the girl.

She stood with a confusion in her eyes before pointing a finger between the two of us. "What is happening? Vic," she pleaded, "We were in the midst of something."

"I'm his girlfriend," I stated confidently, his hand tightening around the bone of my hand.

"Yeah," he backed up, taking a few steps closer to me, squirming his hand off my arm and along my lower back causing me to shiver.

The girl stood before us, shaking her head timorously. "The fuck," she started. "Babe, you can do so much better than him! I didn't know he was dating!"

"I know," I countered. "It's a habit on his part. We're getting through it. I'm mainly here for his fridge though and the food. I'm Azariah, by the way."

"Keiona." She sighed, shaking her head and looking me up and down as if trying to figure me out. "You are fucking beautiful and I'm going to give you my number in case you need an escape from this piece of shit," she laughed, holding out her phone. I exchanged mine as we gave our digits.

She shook her head and added, "I will be honest. You did pick a winner for the bedroom."

She looked hesitant to say that, but I died of hysterics, nodding in agreement. "I really did."

Victor parted from me a little, glancing between the two of us. "Okay," he declared, "Just a suggestion... threesome?"

"No!" Keiona deadpanned.

"Shut up--"

"Get out of here," Keiona urged, beckoning a hand to the front door, now sealed close.

"It's my fucking house." He snickered, shaking his head in exhaustion and returning to the kitchen counter. "While I'm here, could I get you beautiful ladies anything?"

"Really laying it on thick, aren't you?" I asked, but then shared a look with Keiona. "Food, absolutely."

"Whatcha got?" she started. "Dead-ass, this is the best hookup I've ever had and there was never actual hooking up involved."

"Oh," Victor breathed admirably. "Wish I could say the same." He pivoted around to see us perched at the bar stools with eyes impatiently glaring back at him. "Can I help you...?"

"Do you have waffles?" I inquired sweetly, and at seeing him nod, I nodded in return. Keiona agreed with tremendous head bobs.

She asked suddenly, "How long have you guys been dating?"

"Three months," I responded, catching his attention. Typically when I lie, my voice gets high pitched, but saying three months, despite not knowing him for that long, felt natural and truthful.

"Damn, girl," Keiona drawled. "You can do so much better. I mean, all that he really has going for him is the hair--"

"Watch it, Key," he warned, jabbing a finger to her, but we all broke out in chuckles.

"You know what, I think I really like you," I commented.

"Really? I say the same to you. But loose the cheater first."

"Will do," I murmured, shooting a quick look at him, one which he returned from over his shoulder.

♡♡♡

"What?" she asked again. I nodded in exasperation, unable to fully believe it myself. I was surprised Kayla hadn't tripped over her own two feet yet, she began to scare me with the cold eye contact I'd been receiving since I gave her an inkling of a detail to what was happening between Victor and I.

"You heard that right," I spat, laughing all the while. "Let's just say..." I started a bit awkwardly, "Liv now thinks I'm dating Vicky."

"Well, at least the school hallways don't know now that you're talking in code," Kayla mused, gesturing to the cluttered high school hallways that we filed through.

"Listen," I begged, "this may actually work to my benefit?"

"What?" Kayla rebuked, spinning around with a novel caged inside of her arms. "The part where you tell Liv that you're dating Victor, the part where you have to wear an expensive ass shirt Wednesday, or the fact that you're now best friends with Victor's side-hoe?"

"It's not like that--"

"Then what is it?" From what I deciphered, she looked irritated. Her eyebrows cinched and eyes cold with impatience. I hesitated, my hands slightly forth in preparation.

Does this bitch wanna go? That's the truth. Why is she acting like I'm lying?

"Kayla," I started lowly, but before any words could be spilled, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Jaydon looking nervous.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Before I could reply, Kayla manically chuckled and said, "nope, we're ready."

I wasn't ready.

"Good," Jay beamed, "because Mr. Young is enthusiastic to get this meeting started."

When we entered the empty math classroom, I took notice of the posters displayed over the walls obnoxiously and then my eyes landed atop Sullivan, Penelope, Olivia Marshall, and some other girl who I'd only probably spoken to once during ninth grade.

Mr. Young excitedly threw his hand out towards us, gesturing for us to enter the classroom more fluidly and with less caution. Though I was wanting something, or someone, to appear; Victor.

After Keiona left, following the delicious frozen waffles that he'd cooked up, I once again mentioned the idea to Victor who only brushed it off and said that I should go home. He'd driven me back and the conversation ended with a curt goodbye as if I'd done something wrong, besides invading his space, which, what else was knew?

"Come in! Have a seat!" Mr. Young, enthralled with happiness, nodded his head to his words. "I recognize some of you from my classes, I teach Chinese and French and am trilingual, fun fact." He smiled extra wide and surveyed our expressions once more as Jay, Kayla, and I found seats.

He continued to say, "this club is about helping the community and you need to have the goodness in your heart to do so. I don't want anyone here for a reason other than being determined to make changes to the world, starting in your small town in Wyoming." After he finished speaking, I shifted awkwardly, hoping no one knew that the primary reason of my arrival was Sullivan.

The door drew inwards and Mr. Young snapped his head up in the direction along with all of us. The black clothing and uneven backpack gave it away immediately before I was met with his eyes. "And you must be?"

"Uh..." He glanced around, making excruciatingly long eye contact with me and then the club leader. "Victor."

Sullivan scowled, turning back to Mr. Young who invited him in excitedly. Victor ambled through the desks, surpassing Kayla and Jay, and squirmed into the desk next to mine. He discreetly leaned towards me, whispering warmly against my ear, "I hate you for this."

"You didn't have to come, y'know?" I started positively, giving him an appreciative look in my eyes.

"Hm-mm," was all he said. My face contorted to question, but I rolled my eyes knowing that the somewhat upturned grin was a sign of playful jest. When I pivoted back to face Mr. Young, I was met with Kayla's somewhat apologetic eyes.

Wonder what she's sad about.

"You guys can all call me Clement or Clem and I won't make you stay long right now, but the next time we'll meet, it will be at one of the nature reserves near us." He paused to say, "We will be planting trees and cleaning up trash as well as taking pictures for their photo gallery on the website." As the conversation dwindled, we began to make our way into the hallways.

I continued to stroll towards the exit doors, unbothered by the emptiness around me. In fact, I was so unbothered that I hadn't even noticed someone behind me until I stumbled into the fluid motion of Victor's grasp. I went flying backwards, wincing at the presumed bruise on my wrist. My eyes adjusted to another empty classroom as I pivoted to see him reprimanding me with his eyes.

"What the--"

"Care to explain why the whole school thinks I'm in a relationship with you?"

x