Page 14 of War

“Same. Thanks.”

The server nodded and returned to the counter.

“I don't want to overreach, but I'd like to get your plate,” I said.

She opened her mouth to protest.

“I know you can do it, but I'd like to. What do you want?”

“Okay.” She locked the wheels on her chair. “Surprise me. I don't like mushrooms but that's it.”

I smiled. “Got it. Be right back.”

I walked into the buffet and loaded up two plates before I returned to our table.

Sliding her plate in front of her, I sat mine down, too, and settled into my chair.

Her eyes widened. “I can't eat all this. It's too much.”

Lo-mein noodles, fried rice, four different types of chicken, frog legs, and an egg roll were all piled on her plate.

“Good ol’ college try?” I asked, raising my eyebrows innocently.

She narrowed her eyes at me. She seemed more amused than angry. “This plate is huge. I'm not a linebacker.”

I thought I'd gotten a normal amount. I would admit, though, I was more accustomed to eating with other guys. Maybe it was a lot for a woman.

“Fine. You don't have to eat everything. But at least try a bite of each thing and see what you like.”

“Okay but...” She pointed at the frog legs, coated in breading. “What are these?”

“Frog legs. Haven't had them before. I try something new every time I come here. I figured you might want in on the tradition, too.”

She shook her head slowly but then seemed to decide. She looked at me and smiled. “Good ol’ college try.”

I grinned. “There you go. That's the spirit.”

Amantha unbundled her fork and speared a piece of chicken, which she ate.

A different server came by and put our drinks on the table before rushing off.

I picked up a frog leg from my plate and took a bite out of it like a chicken drumstick. Thoughtfully, I chewed.

When I swallowed, I said, “Not bad. Tastes like trout.” I took another bite.

“Did you go to college?” Amantha asked.

I swallowed and shook my head. “Thrill seeker, remember?” I smiled at her. “I couldn't sit in class all day. High school was bad enough. I worked odd jobs and at the mud racing track for several years then began training for skydiving. It takes 500 dives to get your certification as a skydiving instructor. I've had my certification and been working as an instructor for almost two years.”

“How old are you?”

“I'm 32. You?”

“31.”

I nodded and put down what was left of the frog leg. I got out my fork. “What about you? Did you go to school somewhere?”

I twirled some noodles.