The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

19 - A Little Slice of Heaven (or Hell)

About an hour later, Sully pulls his SUV away from the McDonald's drive-through window and glances at me sideways. "All better?" he asks, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

I sink my teeth into a tender nugget and the familiarity makes me smile. "Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome." I offer him a boot-shaped chunk of chicken but he declines. "So, is it just gumbo you don't like or are you always a picky eater?"

That darn dimple winks at me from his cheek. I stop mid-chew and stare. "I'm always picky," I manage to choke out. "And Hartley's family's protein-packed dishes are getting a little old. Sorry to be so much trouble."

"You're no trouble at all. It's my fault for forcing you to try something new. I just thought it'd be cool to show you some of the things New Orleans is famous for."

A red streetcar glides up next to us at the street light. I try to peek inside the windows but the only thing I see is the glare of sun staring back. I swallow the bite in my mouth. "It's not your fault. But, yeah. Trying new foods isn't really my thing. Especially now that I'm part vegan." I roll my eyes.

He laughs. "Well, there is one more food I'd like you to try. But I promise—you're going to love this one."

And I want so badly to believe him because ugh! The expression on his face is so happy and sweet, and I want to make sure I see it again and again. A thousand agains if at all possible. "What is it?" I ask, stuffing a French fry into my mouth.

He grins. "I want it to be a surprise."

"But surprises aren't any fun. They're only fun for the people in charge of them."

"Surprises are all about fun. I think it's even the definition."

"Surprises make me anxious," I tell him. "And they come with expectations. I'm supposed to be all polite and excited, but what if I don't like the surprise? Then I have to fake liking it or risk hurting your feelings. And if I fake it, then I'm just a big, fat liar. And if I'm a big, fat liar, then that means our entire friendship is based on deceit. And not only that, but I'll probably feel like I owe you a debt. And I don't want to be in debt. I don't need that kind of pressure."

His eyes narrow. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes." I take a sip of soda. The bubbles burst over my taste buds and fizz down my throat. "I suppose the idea of surprising someone comes from the right place, but the person giving the surprise doesn't even know what the intended might want. They're only giving them what they think they might want. So if you think about it, it's not a gift at all. It's a burden."

"So, what is it that you want, Gwen?" The corner of his mouth tugs up slowly. "If you could have anything in the whole wide world right now, what would it be?"

I don't even have to think about it. "Something sugary." I hold up my cola. "This is the first real treat I've had since I got here. There's no sugar whatsoever at Hartley's house. They don't even put it in their coffee."

His eyes light up like the sun and a wide grin spreads across his face. "Then you're going to love what I have planned for you," he says. "See? Not all surprises are scary. Sometimes you just have to trust that people know what they're doing."

And I sigh because that's what Sully does to me. I never thought I'd be the kind of girl who swoons over a boy, but here I am, a boy-swooning, breathy mess. He probably thinks I have some weird respiratory condition or something.

A few minutes later, we're walking along Bourbon Street when Sully steers me toward an outdoor cafe surrounded by magnolia trees. The flower blossoms are so big and so white, they don't even look real, but I know they are because their sweet, lemony scent envelopes me as soon as we enter the patio. "Wait right here," he says, pulling out a chair.