Read Dallas (Time for Tammy #1) for Free Online Page B

frame.
    He took a swig from his glass and swallowed audibly. “What part of Michigan are you from?”
    “The suburbs.”
    He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m from down South.”
    “I thought you said you were from Illinois. Illinois isn’t the South.”
    “I’m from Southern Illinois,” he said, as if that explained everything.
    Jane was giving him the once-over. “Are those…cowboy boots?” she asked distastefully, glancing down to his feet.
    “Yep,” he said proudly, flexing his leg.
    “Are you sure you’re from the Midwest?” I asked him redundantly. No one I knew ever wore cowboy boots.
    “Born and raised,” he said, his mouth full again.
    “So what is there to do in Southern Illinois?” Jane inquired.
    “Sex and drugs,” Ian replied, as a half-chewed French-fry hung from his mouth.
    “You do drugs?”
    “Well, no.”
    “So you had a lot of sex?” Jane asked with another glimpse in my direction. Ian, following her lead, also looked at me, causing my face to heat up as I avoided his eyes.
    “Nah, not really,” Ian replied, turning back to his quickly receding horseshoe.
    Well, I guess we at least have that in common. Despite the fact that we both hailed from the same general area, it was starting to feel like we were worlds apart.
     
    “I think I like him,” I confided to Jane on our walk home.
    “Who? Garth Brooks? What an idiot!”
    I shrugged, picturing those large brown eyes. “I thought he was cute. Maybe a little naíve, but I could get used to it. What about Nester?”
    Jane shrugged. “He’s alright. But I’m not sure I want a boyfriend right off the bat. You know, I don’t want to commit right away.”
    “I wouldn’t mind a boyfriend.”
    “Well, if you like him that much, you should ask him out.” Jane declared.
    “Yeah right.”
    “Now!” she said, once again veering toward the computer lab instead of heading towards Gandhi.
    “What will I say?”
    “Honestly, Tammy, haven’t you ever asked a guy out before?”
    “Of course.” No.
    She sat down at a computer and rocked the mouse back and forth so the screensaver paused. She pointed at the empty computer beside her, so I did the same. I logged into my e-mail and then stretched my fingers over the keyboard, searching for something to write.
    “Look,” Jane said, gesturing toward a flyer hanging on the door of the computer lab. “You should invite him to that.”
    “A comedienne?”
    “Why not?”
    Why not indeed? I thought, quickly typing out the invitation as Jane leaned over me, staring at the computer monitor.
    HEY,
    IT’S TAMMY, THE GIRL FROM DINNER TONIGHT. I WAS WONDERING, IF YOU WEREN’T DOING ANYTHING, IF YOU’D LIKE TO GO SEE THE COMEDIENNE (I had to spell-check that one). IF YOU WANT TO, JUST STOP BY GANDHI TOMORROW NIGHT BEFORE 7 AND WE’LL GO.
    IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU,
    TAMMY
    I tried to emulate Jane and didn’t even hesitate before clicking SEND.
    “Do you think he knows it’s from you?” Jane asked.
    I swiveled my head toward her. “You don’t think he knows it was me?” I turned back to the computer to try to retrieve my SENT mail.
    “Tammy, relax, I’m kidding. You said your name like twelve times.”
    I tried to keep my fingers from belying my Holy- Shit-what-did-I-just-do? internal reaction as I logged off. But now the invitation was out there, in cyber space, with my name on it multiple times and instantly delivered into Ian’s inbox. I had asked a guy out!
    I returned to the lab twice that night to nervously check for a reply. At 9:30 there was finally a message from him.
    SOUNDS GREAT. I’LL SEE YOU AT 7.
    IAN
    And just like that I finally had my first date!
     
    I had almost run out of clothes to wear, having previously worn my two best sundresses to our dinner meet-and-greets (or meet-and-not-greet as was the case the first night). I settled for a T-shirt and jeans in an attempt to look casual, but spent a few extra minutes on my make-up.
    At 6:30, I parked my butt in my