ISADORA
Knox parks his car outside a famous steakhouse near campus. I myself have been here several times before and the food's delicious.
"Hope you don't mind," he grumbles as he pulls the brake. "Since we were having barbecue, this seems like the next best option."
I meet his gaze and nod, then get out of the car quickly so he doesn't have a chance to open the door for me again. It's not that I have anything against him wanting to be gentlemanly, it's just that we're not a real couple and there's no reason why we need to keep acting when no one's looking.
A waiter meets us at the door and guides us to our seats. Knox opts for a table close to the window, claiming, "I like to watch people as I eat."
I do, too, but I don't mention it. What would the point of that even be?
"I'll giv
