I try not to scarf it down like an animal, but that’s harder than it sounds when your last home-cooked meal wasn’t even cooked.
“Any news about the tenure position?” Iris asks, speaking into her wine glass.
“Nah,” Isaac answers around a bite of food. “The old hags are dragging their feet. I’ll be lucky if they decide before the term is over.”
“Damn, that sucks,” Iris says. “Isaac teaches ancient alchemy at Brightburn.”
“The demon academy?” I ask.
Isaac nods.
“Before you ask, no, I haven’t made any deals. And yes, their facilities are nicer than Highcrest.”
“Oh, I know, their library is way better,” I say, gathering up the last bit of food on my plate.
My ears droop when I realize there’s nothing left, and when I look up, they are both staring at me, identical frowns on their pretty faces.
“You’ve been to Brightburn?” Iris asks.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I have a few friends from pittball who go there. You haven’t been? We should go, their parties are fun.”
“Can we keep this one?” Isaac asks.
There’s a soft thump under the table, followed by Isaac hissing out, “Oww.” But I pretend not to notice.
We spend a couple of hours idling around the table before moving back into the library, where we sit talking about nothing in particular. Mostly, Isaac tells stories about Brightburn and Iris, and I listen until Isaac rises and declares that he’s going out for dessert.
He offers us an obligatory invitation that we both decline, leaving us listening to the crackle of the fireplace as we stare at each other.
“So we’re friends?” I ask after a few prolonged minutes of silence.
“What?”
“You and me. You told Isaac we’re friends.”
She sits across from me on the long sofa, knees pulled in to her chest, and levels her gaze at me, a small smirk on her lips.
“Aren’t we?” she asks.
I used to think so, but I’m pretty sure friends aren’t supposed to hurt, not like this.
“Yeah. I guess.”
She sighs.
“That’s too bad. Because I’m starting to feel like twice won’t be enough.”
Her eyes are playful as she speaks, coy, but she does not know what she’s suggesting.
“Iris, we can’t…”
I can’t.
“Sure, we can,” she whispers. “No one’s stopping us.”
“Yeah, but I am. I’m not letting you waste your time with me.”
She ignores my protest, crawling forward and easing herself between my legs to rest her head on my chest. And even though I shouldn’t, I wrap her in my arms.
