“It’s Lucy now,” I replied.
He nodded, more to himself than to me as he continued to study my face. “Oh, this makessomuch sense now.”
I frowned. My nickname? “What does?”
Instead of answering, he merely laughed to himself and took off his hat, revealing uncombed hair that looked like he’d tumbled out of bed and sleepwalked straight onto the plane. “Can I sit anywhere?”
“Yeah, I’ll bring you your drink in a minute,” I replied, watching as he ambled over to one of the café chairs.
I finished making his coffee and turned around to find Leon zeroed in on the hideous pink statue on the counter across from him. He seemed suspicious, like he wasn’t sure whether it was real or not.
Without taking his eyes off it, he asked, “Is that... a tiger?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”
“And it’s pink?”
“It’s pink.”
“Oh, good. You see it too then,” he sighed, sounding relieved. “I thought I was imagining things from not sleeping. Or my lucid dream had weird taste in knickknacks.”
“No, it’s very real. So real I almost ended up smashing it over Jake’s head.”
“Okay, you’redefinitelygoing to have to give me more details about that after I wake up. Oh, hey,” Leon commented, scrutinizing his surroundings, “it’s a jungle in here.”
Just noticing that now, was he? Amused, I placed his gigantic mug on the table and his expression morphed into a marginally less grumpy one.
“Mmm, breakfast,” he said, reaching out with grabby hands.
“Breakfast?” I echoed, staring down at him. Up close, Leon looked younger than he did on TV. Didn’t all those articles say he was the baby of the group? He could be my little brother.
“This isn’t seriously your breakfast, is it?” I asked.
“Uh...” The boy took a sip of coffee as he contemplated my question. “Yes?”
“You’re having that much coffee on an empty stomach?”
He took another, much longer sip.
“Yes?” he answered, his voice going up an octave at the end, like he wondered if he was walking into a trap.
“Do you think that’s a good decision?”
He blinked back at me. He had large eyes like some kind of cartoon baby deer, but like if that baby deer would gnaw your fingers off for suggesting they shouldn’t guzzle forty ounces of caffeine. And then tiredly face-plant onto the floor.
Sighing, I walked over to our glass case, took out a muffin, and came back.
The first week after Mom’s accident, I mostly stayed at home with her, but I missed the café so much and wanted to make sure the cats weren’t lonely. So one day, even though the café was closed, I woke up extra early so I could visit before Mom woke up and needed me. I ended up chugging a big mug of coffee and then running off without having breakfast, which hadn’tbeen the best idea. I had no memory of being affected or feeling weird, but according to Mom, when I came home, I talked a mile a minute and shook like an excited Chihuahua.
I set the muffin down in front of Leon and tapped the rim of the plate twice, like I did when I fed our café cats to get their attention. “You should eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”
He stared at me in confusion.
“Eat,” I repeated. “Having food in your stomach slows down caffeine’s effect in your blood.” That’d been one of my science papers. “If you only drink a large coffee, you’re going to start vibrating through the floor, Inspector Gadget.”
Leon looked down at his trench coat, then back up at me, like he was deciding whether he should be insulted or not.
“You’re an angel,” he informed me, coming to that decision as he picked up the muffin. “A very rude, sarcastic angel who comes bearing the gifts of threats and breakfast.”
