Free On Any Given Sundae by Marilyn Brant Page A

were at
least three million light years away. Then Mr. Monroe would ask a
question about World War II or the Russian government or something.
If you heard it, you’d slink down in your seat behind Kent Grommer.
If you didn’t, you’d just keep on daydreaming. He’d ask a bunch of
people, but they wouldn’t know the answer. Then, when he couldn’t
stand it anymore, he’d call on you or on Matthew Landers. And, no
matter what, whether you’d been paying attention or not, you could
answer the question. It was freaking amazing.”
    She shot him a glare, which confused him.
He’d kill for a compliment like that, but she was clearly sending
an I’m-Pissed-Off vibe in his direction. And also still trying to
get him to release her hand.
    He tried to put it another way so she’d get
his meaning. “Look, everybody wished they could do that, too. Be
acknowledged as the smartest one. That’s why girls like Tara Welles
were so jealous of you.”
    She stopped both tugging and glaring.
“W-What?”
    “Well, yeah. I mean, I couldn’t do what you
did either, and I even liked history. I’d concentrate as hard as I
could, but I could barely follow Mr. Monroe’s train of thought. For
you, it didn’t even seem as tough as breathing.”
    Her hand lay like a limp dinner roll beneath
his. Her blank expression gave away nothing. “Y-You’re
kidding?”
    He shook his head. “Nope.” Then he turned to
Tony. “Tell her. Wasn’t she like a legend in high school?”
    Tony didn’t speak. He merely answered with
one of his sage nods and a grin.
    Camilla piped up, “Was that your happy
memory, Uncle Rob?”
    “Kind of,” he said, knowing he’d be too
embarrassed to explain the real recollection. He turned to look
deep into Elizabeth’s eyes and saw a flash of something there. Her
big brain must be hard at work trying to process his words,
evaluate their merit. What her conclusion would be was anyone’s
guess, though.
    “Ah, young love,” his Mama mused, standing to
clear away the dessert dishes. “Why don’t you all go relax on the
patio?”
    “Th-Thank you, Mrs. Gabinarri,” Elizabeth
said, almost jumping to her feet, “but I have to g-get back a
little earlier tonight.”
    “You do?” Rob said. She hadn’t mentioned this
to him before.
    Her head bobbed vigorously. “Work.”
    Like hell.
    “Okay, sweetheart.” He patted her hand, which
was clenched tight again. What had he done to get her so angry and
why was she shorting him forty-five minutes? Not that he didn’t
want to leave, too, but they had a deal . “Sorry, Mama. I
guess Elizabeth’s cookbook project can’t be put off any
longer.”
    “Well, that’s all right,” Mama said. “We’ll
see you both again tomorrow, yes?”
    Elizabeth smiled at his mother. “Of
course.”
    “Absolutely,” he said at the same time.
    Mama disappeared into the kitchen. Elizabeth
snatched her hand away from him once and for all and turned
abruptly away.
    He glanced at his still-seated family
members, and he saw how Camilla tilted her little head in thought.
And Maria-Louisa squinted at him. And Tony, never one to hold back,
rolled his eyes and pressed his knuckles to his own lips.
    “Have a terrific night, you two,” Tony called
after them as they walked out the door. Although, Rob could tell
his little brother expected the remainder of the evening to be just
the opposite.
     
    ***
     
    Elizabeth massaged her temples and took full,
body-cleansing breaths in Rob’s car.
    “Thanks for springing us early,” he said a
few blocks down the road, “but what happened back there?”
    “N-Nothing.” What could she tell him? That
having him caress her hand the way he did at the table was
torturous and hurtful since he didn’t mean it? That his
preposterous fib about her being envied by girls like Tara was even
more so?
    The tips of his ears turned an attractive
shade of pink, but Rob’s temper seemed to run several degrees
hotter. “Nothing? You practically sprinted out