Peppermint…
Coffee…
A glass of port.
I must look wistful because Kiyoko snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Where are you?” she says with a smile. And for the first time in, well,ever?I tell someone who is not in my family the truth.
“I’m listening to Spirit. They’re listing their favorite foods, too.”
“Cake and stuff?”
“Yeah.” I don’t know why, but I elaborate: “I can sometimes taste the food when they talk about it. Even the awful foods.Like, oh…no,” I say into the air with a sour laugh. I smack my tongue and scowl with disgust. “This person’s favorite food is liverwurst!”
Kiyoko bursts with laughter. “You should see your face right now!”
We chuckle, but things fall silent quickly. I sense what she’s about to ask:
“What’s the story between you and Pax?”
I examine a button on the wrist of my shirt. “I’ve only known him a few more days than you have.”
“Is that so? Huh. I thought you two were old friends. You seem to know each other well.”
“We’re friends.”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
I’m blushing deeply. “Business partners. In this plan.”
Kiyoko turns to face me, but I can’t bear to meet her eyes. “Protecting your heart.”
But the way she says it, I can’t tell if it’s a statement:You are smart to protect your heart, or a question:Are you being this stubborn to protect your heart?
“Oh!” Kiyoko scrambles to her feet. She dashes forward, andbam!
Runs directly into Starkweather.
“Oh, my!” she says, dusting herself off. “Apologies, sir! So sorry.”
Starkweather’s face twists into a scowl. “Watch where you’re going, miss.”
“I will, sir! Can my friend and I”—here, she motions to me— “can we buy you a drink to apologize?”
Starkweather’s face slowly morphs. “We-heh-heh-hell, sure!” he chuckles. “Follow me!”
Half a block away, we enter the Ear Inn. “Sit there,” Starkweather says, pointing at a too-small, too-dark booth. Kiyoko smiles. Bats her eyes. Oh Lord, I can hardly watch.
“If it’s just the same to you, we’ll join you at the bar.” Her smile lights up this dark tavern.
Aye, smart lass. Guys like Starkweather get too handsy in a booth.
Starkweather blinks but nods. “Sure thing.” He orders three whiskeys, neat. He slides one down to me, but his eyes are glued on Kiyoko.
I miss the next few minutes of conversation because I’ve never actuallyhadwhiskey before. I make the mistake of taking a big gulp, and it burns like I imagine a swallow of kerosene might. I wheeze as silently as I can; I don’t want Starkweather to think I’m new at this.
Spirit howls with laughter.
Hoowee, lookit our girl!
