I Slapped Mr. Popular

5

Ridge pulls into the parking lot of the town's ice cream parlor, and I unfasten my seatbelt. "I'll meet you inside," I say, grabbing my stuff and getting out before he has time to reply.

I walk in, and someone grabs my hand. I whip around, facing Ridge. "Will you please give me a chance?" he asks.

"Um, no," I say, yanking my hand out of his.

"Why do you hate me? What did I do to you?" he asks.

"I never hated anybody before," I say. It is true. I don't think I've ever hated anyone, not even Jared.

He eyebrows raise. "C'mon. You h.hated someone."

"Disliked, yes, but hated, no. Now, can we please get ice cream, so I can go home?" I ask.

Ridge nods, and he opens the door for me. I smile as a thank you then walk in, freezing when I see all eyes on us. "What would you like?" he says, pulling me toward the counter.

"Mint chocolate chip with chocolate sprinkles and chocolate syrup," I whisper.

Ridge laughs, "You must like chocolate."

I nod then swallow. "I'm going to sit down," I say.

"You sure?"

I nod and sit down at one of the booths. Ridge smiles at me when I meet his eyes then he walks up to the counter and orders our ice cream. He gives her the money then grabs our ice cream. "Here you are," he says, handing me my ice cream.

"Thanks," I say, suddenly feeling comfortable again.

"You're welcome. Let's play twenty questions," he says, sitting down.

I give him a flat look. "Really?"

"Yes," Ridge replies.

"Fine, but we stop when we finish our ice cream. Then, you take me home," I say.

He nods. "Deal. You first."

"You first," I reply.

"Fine. What's your favorite color?" he asks.

I shrug. "Blue, I guess. What's yours?"

He smiles. "Actually, mine is also blue. Okay, what's your middle name?"

"Josephine. Yours?"

"Makel."

"Michael?" I ask, taking a bite of my ice cream.

Ridge laughs, "No, Muh-kale. Like, Miguel, but with a 'k.'"

I raise an eyebrow. "Never heard that one before."

"My parents were original. Okay, favorite subject?"

I smile. "English. I love to read and write."

"I like math."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wow, McCain, I never took you for a math guy."

He rolls his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sawyer."

"I think I do know you."

"Really? Okay, tell me."

I shrug. "Okay. Well, Mr. McCain, you're a player. You have never been with a girl for more than a month, and you've broken more hearts than I count. Your ego is higher than Einstein's IQ, and I know you do everything you can to keep it. Now, am I wrong?"

Ridge grins, and he takes a bite of his ice cream. "You have chocolate syrup on your chin."

I feel my chin, but I don't feel anything. "Where?"

He reaches over with a napkin and wipes the left side of my chin. "There," he says, looking into my eyes. I stare back, and I realize his eyes are an unusual  emerald green color.

He leans in closer, and I snap out of my trance and lean back, blushing. "That was the most cliche thing you could ever do," I say.

"It was cheesy, wasn't it?" he asks, leaning back.

"Yep," I say, looking away.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you something," he says.

I take a bite of my ice cream, looking at him. "Shoot."

"Why'd you flinch when I joked about your mom teaching you about calling people names?" he asks.

I look out the window. "I don't see her much. She's in the Army," I say.

"I'm sorry. When is the last time you saw her?"

"In person? Three years ago. She Skyped us about six months ago," I say, eating my ice cream.

Why did I just tell him that? It's none of his business.

"I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone before, but you can't tell anyone, got it?" He asks.

I nod. "Yeah."

He leans in. "I'm adopted. My parents gave me up for adoption when I was twelve. Luckily, when I was adopted, Rick and Lara hadn't moved here yet, so it was easy to cover up. I got their last name, and bam, I was theirs."

"Who are your real parents?"

"Nora and Ben Riley," he says. "Nora is a supermodel, and Ben is a successful director in Hollywood."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Why'd they put you up for adoption?"

He smiles. "Look who's interested in me," He says.

I glare. "Never mind then. Don't tell me."

"Chill out. They didn't have time for me. Well, that's what they told me," Ridge says.

"Wow, I'm sorry."

He grins. "Don't be. It was the best decision they ever made for me, in my opinion. Now, here I am in an ice cream parlor with a very beautiful girl."

I roll my eyes. "You're pushing it, McCain."

"What? You are, and you can't deny it."

"Whatever, McCain. I'm done with my ice cream," I say, finishing off my cone.

He eats the rest of his cone. "Me, too. Wanna go to the park?" I look at him, and he puts his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'll take you home."

We walk out to his car, and he opens the door for me. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Cupcake," he says.

"Stop calling me that," I say as he shuts the door. I buckle up, and Ridge gets in.

The car ride to my house is silent. Then, he pulls into my driveway and parks. "Can I see you again?"

I unfasten my seatbelt, looking at him. "Why would you want to?"

"You spark my interest."

"You have to come up with something better than that, McCain," I say.

He grins. "I like you, Sawyer. You're pretty cool."

I shrug. "I'll think about it," I say then get out, sliding my purse onto my shoulder. "Goodbye, Ridge."

"Bye, Braelyn."

I shut the door and hurry up to my porch. I unlock my door then turn around. Ridge waves, and I wave back before going inside. When I shut the door, I realize something.

Ridge McCain said he liked me.

For a weird reason, my heart flutters. I face palm.

Oh my goodness, I was beginning to like Ridge McCain.....