The wheel of the Tercel bumped against the curb. Sam cringed, hoping Veronica didn’t notice. Unfortunately, she was standing about four feet away, so there was no way she missed it. He hurriedly threw the car into park and jumped out.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get far. He struggled against the seatbelt for an embarrassing amount of time before realizing the problem—him. He was the problem. Taking a deep breath, he reached down and pressed the button to unbuckle, then executed a stately exit from the beat-up Toyota.

Success.

Sam rounded the car and got his first look at Veronica. His stomach lurched, and then his shoe caught the curb—that same, cock-blocking curb—and he almost sprawled to the sidewalk. He did a little half-stumble, half-windmill dance before regaining his balance.

Veronica wore a skirt, a pair of red Chuck Taylor’s, and a white top that exposed an amazing amount of cleavage. Her hair hung in a tail on the side of her head, her brunette locks flowing down her shoulder in curly ringlets.

“You look… Wow.”

A smile blossomed on her lips, and she ran her hands from her waist down her skirt. “Good answer. You don’t look half bad yourself.”

He made a mental note to thank Ash for the outfit.

“Thanks. Ready to go?”

“Think you can manage the curb this time?”

Blushing and mumbling something incoherent—even to him—he opened the passenger door for her. Stepping back, he nearly collided with her. “Sorry, I was just—”

Surprise flitted across her face, no doubt because of his clumsiness, then she regained her composure and smiled again, this time with no hint of teasing. “Thank you.”

Making sure she was tucked safely in the car before closing the door, he rushed around the back of the car—stumbling off the curb again—but made it to the driver seat without additional injury. The obstinate seatbelt wouldn’t release. He pulled on it five or twelve times until, chastising himself silently and trying not to glance at Veronica, he pulled slowly. The belt relented and did as it was designed to. He sent a timid smile her way and put the car in gear, thankful he left the car running. The Tercel had started on the first try on the way over, so it was statistically impossible that it would do so twice in a row.

Like just about everywhere in Elsbury, it only took four minutes to drive to the restaurant. At the Mountains of Munchies featured cuisine from no fewer than eight cultures and had a bustling take-and-bake pizza bar. It was the fanciest restaurant in town that he could afford.

The hostess led them to a table as soon as they walked in. There was an awkward moment when he and Veronica both attempted to pull out her chair, both vying for and stepping back from it a few times before Veronica let him do it for her.

Her hair brushed against his arm as he scooted the chair in for her. “Looks like we have the place mostly to ourselves.”

“Monday nights probably aren’t too popular for diners.” Frazzled-looking parents and their spawn occupied three other tables in the restaurant. Sam laughed louder than her joke warranted.

The hostess filled their water glasses and left them without uttering a single word. The neat text on the menu swirled in his vision.

Jesus, am I having a stroke? The ice rattled in his glass as he brought it to his lips for a gulp, and a small wave of ice-cold water splashed on his pants. Luckily, Veronica’s eyes were on her own menu, so he didn’t think she noticed.

“So how was your day?” Was his voice higher pitched than normal?

Veronica didn’t take her eyes off the menu. “Sooo boring. I hoped Spring Break would be more exciting, but with all these accidents, everyone’s scared to do anything, and it’s all they want to talk about.”

“What accidents?”

A small frown creased her pretty brow. “You know, all these people falling into comas. Where have you been?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

It was like his chair fell out from underneath him. He’d been so wrapped up with everything going on with Mr. Williams and his mom and Judy and trying to help Ash that he hadn’t heard anything. He wasn’t big on reading the news in the first place, and with school out for Spring Break, he didn’t have access to the rumor mill.

There are more people in comas? “Do you know someone who’s gotten sick?”

“Ugh, yes. My neighbor got sick this morning. My mom was totally freaking out. I don’t know why, Mrs. Caswell is like a hundred years old and went to the emergency room like six times last month.”

“Wow, that’s terrible.” Sam was only half listening. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, keeping it below the table while he texted Ash.

More people are falling into comas!

He put his phone in his lap and smiled at Veronica. Their waiter arrived a moment later. He had graduated a couple years prior. Duncan or Brady or something like that. He had an impossibly square jaw, dimples, and a more-on-top faded haircut.

“Hi,” he said in a rich baritone, nodding at Sam but saving his smile for Veronica. “Welcome to At the Mountains of Munchies. My name’s Braden, and I’ll be happy to service you tonight.”

Sam rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to ask what the specials were when his phone vibrated.

Ash’s response was only three emojis, followed by a short sentence.

Peach. Eggplant. Water splash. Get in there already!

Veronica’s laughter caught his attention, and he jerked his eyes away from the screen. Her eyes and smile were aimed at the waiter. Sam coughed.

The beefcake waiter turned to him. “What can I get ya, champ?”

“I’ll have the chicken tacos, please.” Ash had told him to order either oysters or fish tacos, but he was pretty sure she had been joking. With Ash, it was hard to tell. Plus, he didn’t care for seafood.

Braden acknowledged the order with practiced disinterest and turned back to Veronica. “And what would you like to eat tonight?”

Veronica met Sam’s gaze, and with a smirk, she ordered the eggplant parmesan. Braden wasn’t happy with the shift her attention had taken. He snapped his little black book closed and walked away brusquely.

The predatory grin Veronica shot Sam sent blood rushing to two very different parts of his body, one above the table and one that was—thankfully—hidden below it.

The ice in his glass rattled like a maraca, and he managed to take a sip without spilling half a gallon on himself. Veronica’s flirting with the waiter seemed like it was the end of any chance he had at stopping the curse—that was the euphemism he was using to keep his mind off what he needed to do—but things were suddenly looking up.

Maybe she’s actually interested.

Braden sauntered by and dropped off a basket of breadsticks. “I hope you find my breadstick is just the right size for you.” He winked at Sam’s date, and Veronica rewarded the jackass with a giggle.

While they talked, Sam glanced down at his phone and sent an SOS to Ash.

Not going well. Himbo waiter got game!

Braden took his perfect hair left, but he didn’t go far. He leaned against the bar a dozen feet away and made no attempt to pretend like he wasn’t looking at their table, looking right at Veronica.

Sam fumed. This isn’t going well. I have to do something.

To her credit, Veronica didn’t seem ready to throw in the towel on their date. She carried the conversation, and Sam did his best to keep up his side of the conversation, but with Braden hovering at the edge of his vision, he didn’t think he was doing too well.

Sam’s phone buzzed in his lap.

“Is that yours?”

He shook his head. “Nope, not mine.” He waited until she was taking a drink of her iced tea and read the text.

Say something funny, dipshit! Don’t fuck it up!

Gritting his teeth, Sam shoved the phone back into his pocket. Ash was no help. When he looked back up, Veronica had turned away, her lips pursed like she was mad.

Fuck, she probably saw me texting. Say something!

“Did you hear that Aaron Eckhart and Thomas Jane are the same person?”

No, asshole! Not like that!

The look she gave him was not promising. “What?”

“You know, the guy who played…um…Two Dicks." Sweat beaded on his forehead as his brain worked overdrive to unscramble the words. "No, I mean, he was the teacher in that show who became a gigolo. Same guy!”

Veronica looked at him like he’d just ripped a long, wet fart. Braden chose that moment to bring their food out.

“Chicken tacos for the big guy, and eggplant parmesan for—” He must have picked up on the awkwardness floating around the table like a swarm of mosquitoes. He sent a discerning glance at Sam and then turned back to Veronica. “Here ya go. You know, I get off in about half an hour if you wanted to do something once you’re done hanging out with your”—he spared Sam a quick glance as if to say, Sorry, dude, but you shot your shot, now it’s time to step aside—“little brother.”

Veronica gave the waiter an appraising look. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Sam’s heart fell into his stomach. I fucked it up. He looked down at his tacos. Sam loved the tacos here. At the Mountains of Munchies was the second best TexMex restaurant in town—not to mention the third best Thai and very best Italian restaurant—but for once, his mouth wasn’t watering.

These are not the tacos I’m supposed to be eating tonight. He tried to meet Veronica’s gaze to see if there was any hope to salvage the night, but her eyes were tracking the waiter. Ash is going to kill me.

“You know what, Sam?” Veronica asked, beginning the preamble to what Sam knew was coming next. “I don’t think this date is going very well.”