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I put my fists to my hips just like her. She laughed and removed her fists.
“I don’t even know what to do with my hands,” she said. “You’re making me paranoid.”
“Let’s do the syrup dare,” I said.
I closed my eyes and started counting to ten. “1…2…3…4…”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hurry up, mix ‘em.”
“Okay, done,” she said.
I opened my eyes and found a puddle of syrup on my pancakes. She didn’t seem to understand the rules to her own game.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“You said mix ‘em.”
“You mixed all the flavors on my plate?”
“Yeah, you told me to.”
“No, you said you were going to mix them around on the table and I’d reach out and grab one.”
“That wouldn’t be mixing them,” she said. “That would be moving them around.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. In all my years living at the North Pole, I’d never had such a pointless but outstanding conversation. It was so light and fluffy. No stress. No pressure. Just random chatter about pancake syrup and the difference between mixing and moving. I loved it.
“Okay, well I’m not trying this flavor…orgy on my plate by myself,” I said.
“Flavor orgy?” she asked. “Oh you’re not one of those dirty minded perverts are you?”
“That depends,” I said.
“On what?”
“On which answer will get you to sit and try these pancakes with me.”
“I like dirty minded perverts,” she admitted. “As long as they know how to turn it on when it’s necessary and turn it off when it’s not.”
“Just eat pancakes with me.”
“I can’t. You wanna get me fired?”
“No, definitely not.”
I smiled up at her, not knowing where to take the conversation.
“Fine,” she said, reaching out to the next table over and grabbing an unused set of utensils wrapped in a napkin. She unrolled it and pulled out the fork. “Quickly though. And I’m just taking like one bite.”
I loved it. She was so great. She would fit in nicely at the North Pole. She had a lighthearted quality about her that I could sense. She was a good person.
She wouldn’t commit to the breakfast enough to actually sit down but she bent over with her fork ready. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and looked at me, waiting.
“Well…” she said
.
