Another pause, then she responds.
Firecracker: You don’t seem like someone who panics when things get messy.
Me: Yeah. You get used to staying calm when everyone else isn’t. Learn to read a room fast and when to act and when to wait.
Firecracker: Sounds like you’re good at it.
Me: I am. Because people don’t get second chances when I miss something.
Me: I take that seriously.
I stare at the screen for a second, then shake my head. I’m not about to let this turn into a job interview.
Me: Alright. Enough serious for one night.
Firecracker: Oh?
I grin, stretching out on the couch.
Me: Favorite food. No thinking too hard.
Firecracker: Tacos. Real ones. From a place that looks like it might fail a health inspection.
I laugh out loud.
Me: That’s an excellent answer.
Firecracker: I know.
Me: Steak. Medium rare. If it needs sauce, it’s wrong.
Firecracker: Strong opinion. I agree.
Me: Favorite color.
Firecracker: Teal.
That one fits so perfectly it almost makes me smile wider.
Me: Dark green.
Firecracker: That also fits you.
I roll my neck, settling in.
Me: Okay. Something crazy. What’s the most impulsive thing you’ve ever done?
The pause is shorter this time, like she already knows.
Firecracker: I quit a job on the spot and drove five hours away just because I was mad and needed air. I stopped for the night, got drunk at the hotel bar, and came back the next day happy with my decision.
My brows lift.
Me: Why did you quit?
Firecracker: The asshole manager fucked up and put the blame on me. I called him out in front of everyone but no one believed me. They took his side so I peaced out. Stupid fuckers.
I throw my head back and laugh.
