Free So Much for My Happy Ending by Kyra Davis

name?”
    â€œBullfrog.”
    Allie and I were silent.
    â€œNah, I’m just shittin’ ya. It’s Ramano. My dad’s Italian. How ’bout you guys? Wait—” he pointed a finger at Allie “—I know your last name. It’s O’Riley, right? I saw it on your mailbox.”
    â€œGosh, usually I wait until the third date before I let a guy check out my box,” Allie teased. I wanted to slap her.
    â€œMy name’s Silverperson.”
    â€œSilverperson? Now who’s shittin’ who?”
    â€œYou do realize that shittin’ isn’t actually a word.”
    Allie gave me a warning look but Jeremiah started cracking up.
    â€œIt really is Silverperson,” I said. “My mom changed it to reflect her feminist ideals.”
    â€œNo way, are you—”
    â€œPlease don’t say it.”
    â€œâ€”kidding me? I was gonna say kidding me.”
    He waved over a tired-looking waitress, her 1950s-style uniform bunched slightly at the hips. “Do you need a menu?”
    â€œNah, just get me a cheeseburger, garlic fries and a milk shake. Thanks.”
    I discreetly took inventory of Jeremiah’s fit physique. To find evidence of God’s favoritism toward men one need only look to the difference in the metabolic rate between the two sexes. I sneaked a peek at my watch. I might be able to hurry Allie out of here if I helped eat her onion rings. I was tired, and curling up next to my tall, sexy, literate fiancé was sounding pretty great right about now.
    Allie dipped her finger in my ice water and sucked off the liquid suggestively. Jeremiah seemed unmoved. “So, Jeremiah’s a cool name. You ever go by Jerry?”
    â€œNah, people hear Jerry and they think Seinfeld. Or Garcia if they’re a former dead head or something. And, you know, Jeremiah is a better name for a rock star.”
    â€œOh, so now you’re a star?” I asked.
    Allie threw me another glare but I ignored her. If I ended up driving him off, she could thank me after her brain cells started working again.
    â€œNah.” Jeremiah grinned and propped his foot up on the booth he was sitting on. “But I’m a great wannabe and that’s got to count for somethin’.”
    I laughed. “Kind of like the—”
    â€œOffspring’s song,” he finished. “I’m pretty fly for a white guy. That pretty much sums it up.”
    Allie giggled. “Have you always wanted to be in a band?”
    â€œSince I was a kid. As soon as I heard Hendrix I knew what I was all about.”
    Allie shifted so that her body was fully pivoted in his direction. “Then, how come you only play your guitar for a handful of your songs?”
    He flashed a broad grin. “’Cause I suck at it.”
    I burst out laughing. He hadn’t been bad but he certainly wasn’t the best in his band. “So maybe the question needs to be reversed,” I offered. “If you think you suck, why do you play at all? You have two other guys in the band who can really play.”
    â€œDallas and Gary, yeah, they rock. I play because I love it.”
    I blinked. “I don’t get it.”
    â€œYou don’t get it?” Jeremiah repeated. He paused as the waitress brought his food. “What’s not to get?”
    â€œWell, I assume you want the band to hit it big.”
    â€œIdeally.”
    â€œAnd you have a great vocal style and you have two great guitarists, so why would you want to lower the band’s performance level by playing an instrument at which you don’t excel?”
    â€œApril!” Allie chastised.
    â€œIt’s okay, even my biggest fan has gotta admit that I’m no Hendrix.” He turned his attention back to me. “You know, I got a college degree. You know what I majored in?”
    â€œI’m guessing it wasn’t English.”
    â€œI majored in accounting,” Jeremiah said.