37 ~ Sweet as Kim Possible-2

*** "Where are you from, Ben?" Papa asked. He sat across from me and Ben, but had his eyes trained on his plate of chicken pie. "Manchester, like you two," he said smoothly. I grinned inwardly. I loved how I knew that Ben was nervous only by the brusque quality of his voice. I was sure barely anybody else could tell that him being gruff and manly served as a cover for his anxiety. "And what's your major?" "Computer science." Papa looked up, impressed with him. That was the best thing Ben could've said, because Papa had majored in that in uni too. "Brilliant. So are you taking calculus? Which kind?" "It's multivariable." Papa winked at me. "Smart chap, eh, Charlie?" I laughed. "He's extremely smart, Papa." We spent a couple of minutes just eating. I peeked at Ben, and noticed his tight expression. I tapped his shoulder, and when he glanced at me, I smiled reassuringly. His shoulders eased almost imperceptibly, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "So, you liking the food, Ben?" Papa said a while later. "Lottie made it, so I really do." Upon hearing that, I accidentally hit my thigh against the underside of the table and closed my eyes at the sudden, sharp pain. I gripped my leg and sighed slightly. Papa just grunted affirmatively at Ben's response, not noticing my current state. I opened my eyes and straightened, rubbing the sore spot gently. "Are you okay?" Ben whispered in my ear. I could sense the beginnings of a laugh in his voice. "I'll kiss you in front of my dad if you make fun of me," I warned. He couldn't take me by surprise like that! It literally wasn't good for my physical health. Ben just touched my shoulder and turned back to his plate in time for my dad's next question. "What do your parents do?" Without flinching, Ben said, "My dad owns an automobile company and my mum helps manage it." "You got a plan for the future?" "Not currently, but I'm working on it." "Any ideas?" "I'm thinking about becoming a teacher." My eyebrows raised - a computer science teacher? Like in university? I hadn't known that. But then again, I hadn't asked. "You have any siblings?" "Just one wee brother." "How old is he?" "Seventeen." "How old are you?" "Twenty." I was impressed with the ease at which he answered every question my dad threw at him, because they came in rapid succession and were confusing me. "Do you have a job?" He nodded. "I watch over a little girl most days." Papa grinned. "Like a nanny?" Ben winced slightly. "Kind of?" "There you go, Charlie! He likes kids! That's great for you, right? Haven't you always said that you want a lad who-" "Papa," I interrupted, feeling mortified. Ben pursed his lips, and I just knew he was trying to stop from chuckling. I pinched his hip under the table, and he swatted me away. My dad's grin just widened. "What's this little girl like, Ben?" "Er...well she's really cheeky. She's really hyper all the time and loves sweets, like Lottie." I looked down at my plate to hide my smile. You could tell how much he cared about Queenie just by listening to him. "And she's pretty nice for a kid, always sharing her toys and playing with the loners at the park." Papa looked from me to Ben a few times, his grin gone. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why was he making that face? He stood up and gathered his empty plate and utensils and stared menacingly at us. I reached under the table and grabbed Ben's hand, which was mildly sweaty. I would've laughed at his nerves had I not been worried too. Abruptly, Papa broke into a wide grin "I like you, boy." Then he turned around and strode into the kitchen. I breathed out and beamed. "Good job, Ben! You handled my dad really well!" He squeezed my hand. "Are you sure?" "He said he likes you. He's never said that to any boy he's ever met before!" "Has there been a lot?" he asked, frowning. I shook my head rapidly. "No, just when we go out to the shops or for dinner and boys talk to me, he never likes them. But he likes you. I knew he would!" "Parents don't usually like me, so how did you know?" "Obviously they have impaired judgment, then," I said impatiently. "And my dad doesn't." Ben looked at me, and all the creases on his face smoothed out, and he let go of my hand only to lean towards me and wrap me in a hug. "Thanks," he murmured. "For what?" "I don't really know," he said. "I guess thanks for being you."