“No!” Walt cried. “What do I get from it?”
Clara thought about it. “There’s nothing to win exactly.”
Walt stared at her. “I’m going home now.” He heaved himself off her couch.
“So, see you tomorrow at eight for our first “date”?” Clara called after him.

The next night

Once Clara thought something up, she had to go through with it. No matter how ridiculous, she had to see the end result. And Walt knew that. So it came to no surprise to him when at seven forty-five his cell phone was vibrating beside him. He didn’t even need to check the caller ID.
“Clara.”
“Walt.”
“What d’ya want?” Walt sighed.
“I bet you’re not doing anything,” Clara sing-songed.
“How do you know? I’m going to dinner with my parents.”
“No, you’re not,” Clara said. “I just called your house phone and your mom said she and your dad were going to the movies, that your brother is with your grandma, and that she left enough money for pizza for us. So you can’t make any excuses.”
“Fine, I’m staying in.”
“Nope. You’re taking me to dinner.”