Map to the Stars by Jen Malone

mystery one, plus peanut butter, plus marshmallow spread, plus mayonnaise, hot sauce, and raisins.
    Graham picked it up and held it in front of his face, examining it carefully from all sides. With his eyes locked on mine ( do NOT notice how nice his eyes are, Annie! ) , he leaned forward with deliberation and took a giant bite out of it. He chewed slowly, tilting his head back and forth as he contemplated the taste. I waited for a reaction that nevercame.
    He returned the sandwich carefully to his plate and remarked, “Not bad. You have skills.”
    â€œAre you serious? That is like the most disgusting combination of foods possible. You can’t honestly tell me you want another bite.”
    Wordlessly, he picked up the sandwich again and took an even larger bite, chewing with relish. I picked up my own turkey and mustard on wheat and managed a delicate nibble.
    â€œWimp,” Graham commented.
    â€œReally? What, because I like normal flavor combinations. Although I’m from the South, so if I had my way this would be deep-fried. But still.”
    â€œHow much would it take to get you to try one bite of this?” he asked, holding up his sandwich for my inspection.
    â€œHow much you got?” I challenged. Graham leaned back in his chair and raised both eyebrows.
    Oh. Right. About a zillion dollars.
    His eyebrows wagged up and down at me and it was impossible not to laugh.
    â€œSo? Are you game?” he asked.
    I pretended to think hard. My eyes settled on my own plate and I had an idea. “I will if you will,” I told him. “I’ll try your sandwich, if you take a bite of this pickle.” I held it up and Graham recoiled as if examining roadkill.
    â€œUh-uh. No way.”
    â€œSo you’ll eat that ,” I said, waving my hand over his sandwich,“but you won’t try one bite of a harmless little pickle?”
    â€œYup, you’ve pretty much nailed it,” he answered, tucking back into his soggy mess of a lunch.
    â€œNow who’s the wimp?”
    He looked amused. “To think, your mom assured me you were the sweetest girl ever.”
    Traitor. I’d get her for that one.
    â€œSo, speaking of your mom, she said last night that you were downstairs working on a heartfelt apology to me. I’m ready to hear it whenever.”
    He was so serious when he said it that I choked on the sip of water I’d just taken. My face turned red as I sputtered and coughed. Graham jumped from his seat and thumped my back a few times.
    â€œHey, are you okay?” Graham put his hands on my shoulders and peered into my face. I nodded, mortified, before dabbing at the tears my coughing spell had produced. Graham exhaled and returned to his seat.
    â€œI was only kidding, you know.”
    Oh. Guess that’s why the guy made the big bucks. No one could say he couldn’t act.
    â€œUh, sorry,” I mumbled, ending on another cough.
    â€œIt’s all good. Actually, I’m the one who’s sorry. That I yelled at you like that yesterday, I mean. I swear, I’m not normally that guy. It was a rotten travel day and finding a stalker in my bed was sort of the cherry on the cake.”
    â€œIcing,” I said, before I could stop myself.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œIt’s icing on the cake. Cherry on the sundae.”
    â€œOh. Yeah, I’m sort of bad about mixing up expressions.” Graham shrugged and added a smile.
    I didn’t want to admit what that smile did to my insides, so I quickly added, “Anyway, you can continue with your apology.”
    â€œNope. I was done. Your turn. Let’s hear what you have to say in that Southern accent of yours.”
    I picked at my sandwich and sucked in some air. Fine, okay, I guess it wouldn’t kill me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you for another few hours and I thought I’d have plenty of time to be out of your bed before you got there.”
    Graham smiled wickedly