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“Grapes?” Logan raises a brow. “Yes, we know what grapes are.”
“No, these grapes. They’re crunchy.” I chomp into another one. “Goddamn.” The only green grapes I remember were the ones from a can of fruit cocktail; they were sour and mushy. These are incredible.
“Groundbreaking, congrats on discovering the produce aisle,” he says dismissively. “Back to the asbestos. Are you doing the cleanup?”
“Ew, gross. No.”
He holds up his hands. “Just asking.”
Logan lifts his shoulders. “Well, I’m happy for you, man. Nothing says romance like a renovation project.”
Thor and I exchange glances.
“I’m removing asbestos,” I explain. “You committed arson.”
Logan shrugs. “Listen, home improvement is home improvement.”
“Buddy, what home? It’s literally an empty lot,” Thor disputes. He turns back to me. “This thing with Anna must be pretty serious, then.”
“We said the L-word.”
“Lockpicking?” Thor muses.
“Liability?”
“Fuck you both. I’m thriving,” I respond, pawing through the berries to see if there are any of those grapes left. “Sounds like you both have bitterness to unpack.”
Logan threads his fingers behind his head. “Hey, I’m good. I got my happy ending. Thor here is the only one without a woman.”
He sighs. “I get laid plenty, but thanks for your concern.”
“Didn’t say ‘laid,’” Logan reiterates.
Thor rolls his eyes and reaches into my lunchbox, plucking a slice of cucumber out between two fingers.
Time slows. I gape at him, waiting for my body to move, but it’s like my reaction instincts are stuck in molasses while he slowly brings it closer to his mouth.
“Nope.” I shoot to my feet and slap it out of his hand, effectively turning it into a mini Frisbee and sending it sailing across the break room. It makes a wet little smack when it sticks to one of the upper cabinets near the fridge. The three of us look on as it slowly slides down before plopping onto the countertop. I reach it in two strides and stuff it in my mouth.
Thor’s forehead wrinkles and he looks at me like I’m insane. To be fair, I receive this look on a regular basis.
Logan slowly turns his head toward me. “What the fuck was that about?”
“Do not eat my cucumber.” I rush back to my lunch box to protect the remaining slices.
Thor’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
“It’s a cucumber, Casper.” Logan tries to reason with me.
“Not anymore.”
They both freeze and I watch their faces morph into understanding as the pieces click into place.
Logan plants his elbow on the table and points a finger at me. “You stuck it in your ass, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t me. And it wasn’t an ass.”
Thor’s eyes widen and he nods with a raised chin. “A cuntcumber . . . Next time make sure you bring enough to share with the rest of the class.”
