Read Online Less Than Nothing by R.E. Blake - Free Book Online Page A

good third of it disappears on my side of the plate. I’m buzzing from the sugar rush when Derek edges closer to me and sets his fork on the plate, signaling he’s done.
    He stares at Elvis for a long moment, then turns his attention to me.
    “Now it’s my turn.”
    “Your turn for what? Diabetic coma?” I joke.
    “No, to ask some of the questions I’ve been wanting to.”
    I make a face. “Wait. Who said anything about turns?”
    “That’s how it works. I mean, I have to know who I’m partnering with, right? It’s not like I’ll just team up with anyone.”
    “I didn’t get that feeling when you made your offer.”
    The grin is back. “Deception, grasshopper.”
    I frown. “You watched a lot of TV at home, didn’t you?”
    “What was the giveaway?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Play along. It’s my frigging birthday.”
    “How do we really know that? I mean, how do I know you aren’t just saying it’s your birthday to gain an advantage?”
    He chuckles. “An advantage?”
    It does sound kind of dumb when he says it. Not when I think it, though.
    “You know.”
    “Oh, you mean like, maybe if it’s my birthday, you’ll…treat me extra special good?”
    Now it sounds even dumber. I eye his face, handsome as any I’ve seen. Would he really need to invent a birthday to get any girl he wanted? I remember Melody’s reaction, only part joking, as well as all the women who stopped throughout the day and voted with their wallets. No, Derek wouldn’t have to tell stories to get extra special good treatment.
    My face must look like someone’s knocked the wind out of me, because his tone softens. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It’s just kind of amusing. You’re so suspicious of me. It’s obvious.”
    “Still doesn’t prove it’s your birthday.”
    “You’re right about that. Hey, look at it this way – there’s a one in three hundred and sixty-five chance I’m telling the truth.”
    I can’t help but smile. He smiles back, and my heart lurches. People like Derek must be put on the planet to make the rest of us feel inferior – guys just aren’t supposed to look that good in real life.
    “Let’s assume for the moment that it is, okay? They’re just questions. They won’t bite.”
    I try to think of a way of getting out of having to answer, but can’t come up with anything. “Fine. Ask away. Since it might actually be your birthday, I’ll give you three questions. Make ’em good ones.”
    “Only three? Are you serious?”
    “That’s one.”
    “Oh, come on.”
    “Okay, first one’s for free.”
    His expression grows serious. “How long have you been on the street?”
    That’s an easy one. “Four months.”
    “Any brothers or sisters?”
    Another easy one. “Nope.”
    He nods and steeples his fingers like a champion chess player. I cringe inwardly in anticipation of the next one, which I suspect won’t be a softball. But there’s a limit to what I’ll share with a stranger. If it’s anything about why I ran away, I can deflect. I’m not going to discuss that. Not my mom, not my stepdad, not my real father. None of it.
    Derek’s ability to surprise me hasn’t diminished over dessert. When he speaks, it’s almost a whisper. “So you’ve been on your own for four months, are an only child, and beyond that, are a mystery. And you’ve limited my questions, entirely unfairly I might add…” He holds up a hand to silence my protest. The King wiggles his silent support for my predicament. “So here’s my third try: What do you want to be when you grow up? What’s your dream?”
    Great. Nothing like a little light conversation after dinner.
    How the hell do I answer that? With a glib “alive”? Something tells me that won’t cut it. He’s staring at me with quiet intensity. I watch his chest rise and fall with each breath as he waits for my answer.
    I groan inwardly and realize by his quick smile that I must have done so audibly as well. Nothing like letting them