This gives me serious pause. Am I happy? My gaze slides to my glass of water, but I can’t make out my reflection in it.
I look up again, and Hall smiles as he watches.
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re just interesting to observe. Like a movie, except your movie is about someone who has been stuck in thebeginningpart of the movie for a long, long time. You know what I mean? The first half, before they’ve learned to grow and change.”
“I’m like a movie?” I feel the confused expression I’m making, which makes him laugh. “What do you mean about a first half?”
“Nothing bad, onlyinteresting. I’ve been people-watching since the Neanderthal days. So far, you’re my favorite person to watch.”
This stuns me for a moment. “I exasperate you all the time.” I don’t know why I feel the need to point this out. “When I make wishes you don’t like.”
“You know how I love movies? I’ve seen pretty much all of them, so I can usually guess where the plot will go. But with you?” Elbow on the table, hand against the side of his face to support it, he tilts his head in the opposite direction and raises his eyebrows in awho knows?sort of gesture. Then he casts his eyes down, lashes fanning crescent shadows on his cheeks, and idly begins to play the pegs-in-the-triangle game.
I’m still wondering if I’m bewitched, or if everybody else is, when our food arrives. “You went to magic camp when you were still aspirit.” I stir my drink, watching him closely. “I can’t get over it.”
“Three summers in a row, and it ruled. Here, I’ll show you some of my tricks.”
He shakes a deck of cards out of his sleeve, earning himself an eyebrow raise. But his hands move too rapidly to follow, his smilesdistracting me expertly. He’s a master at sleight of hand. I’ve never found magic tricks attractive before and am shaken to my core by how hot I’m finding this.
Hall is unaware, happily making a quarter disappear. Then he makes me guess which hand it’s in. (I’m never right.) Demonstrates the dexterity of his fingers by rolling it in front of and behind them in a swift flash of silver. It is honestly mesmerizing.
He plucks it from behind my ear. “Is this yours?”
“Look again. I think I dropped fifty bucks back there.”
He reaches behind my other ear, revealing a handful of peanut butter pretzel bites. My favorite.
I munch on them. “You know, I think I’ll keep you around.”
He winks, and then his eyes widen in alarm. He stares at me strangely. A frown develops, brow creasing. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
He looks down, messing with the triangular peg game again. “Nothing,” he mutters. “It’s nothing.”
I pry, but he’s got whatever’s bothering him under lock and key, so I eventually give up.
Hall overestimated the amount of food he can physically put inside of his body, facial muscles taut as three-fourths of his meal is shoveled into to-go boxes. He balances them in his arms as we weave back to the storefront to pay for dinner.
“Allow me,” Hall murmurs before I can sidle in front of the cash register, bumping me out of the way with his hip.
“Where are you getting money from?” He’s been buying stuff all day. Hall is only able to conjure Canadian money for somereason, which we exchange at the bank for American currency every couple of days.
“Somewhere in my pocket.” Tucking his chin into the top to-go box to hold his tower steady, he fumbles in his pockets. “Here, hold this.”
He hands me a lit sparkler.
“Jesus!” I cry, springing back. But then I take it from him before he can accidentally set something on fire as he keeps digging in his pockets.
“And this one,” he adds, handing me another sparkler.
“Hey, you can’t have that in here!” the cashier exclaims.
