I’m so glad it’s too dark for Eggo to see my reaction.
Chapter 4
Aiden
Tuesday 4th May 2027
“If you were a fruit, what kind of fruit would you be?”
Media day: covering all the groundbreaking topics.
Eggo’s knee knocks against mine, but I won’t look at him for fear of bursting into laughter. We’re sitting on two plasticschool-type chairs beside each other while a skinny ginger guy named Andy sits opposite us. He’s armed with a camera and the most asinine questions known to man.
In all fairness, it’s not Andy’s fault. He seems like a nice enough fella, and we’re all just doing our jobs here. We’re all reading from the same script.
Well, most of us are. My future co-captain has a tendency to go off-piste now and then. I feel Eggo’s leg press against mine, and I realise it’s now my job to rein him in.
“I would be a dragon fruit,” I say.
“Oh, wow, that’s a fascinating answer. Why do you say that?” Andy asks.
Because I’m foreign. Because I’m rather bland and flavourless, and all I really have to go on is my curated “weird guy” looks and my “exoticness.” Because once people try me, get to know me, they tend not to like me very much.
“Just because it sounds cool,” I say instead, and we all laugh in that friendly, forced way.
Eggo’s right hand comes to rest on my lower back. He squeezes me three times in quick succession.
He knows. He must sense that I’ve been overthinking again, and he’s making me aware that he’s beside me, here for me. There’s a camera on us, and a man with his chair pointed directly towards me, and I should be concerned someone else will see this minor display of affection, but I can’t bring myself to remove his hand. I like it there. Need it there, actually.
“I’d be a strawberry. Everybody loves strawberries, and everyone loves me,” Eggo says.
“Technically, strawberries aren’t fruits,” I say, because sometimes I just can’t help myself. “Also technically, they’re not even berries.”
“Okay, nerd.” Eggo’s fingers slip an inch under the hem of my jersey, and now he’s touching my bare flesh. “If they’re not fruit or berries, what are they?”
“Yes, I’m very intrigued to find out as well,” Andy chimes in.
“I read this thing one time that said because their seeds are on the outside, that means they’re not fruits or berries, they’re ‘accessory fruits.’ Whatever that means.” I pile on the nonchalance and pretend as though I haven’t been on a three a.m. rabbit hole deep dive on the technicalities of fruit versus berries versus accessory fruits. Also, as it turns out, many of the most popular fruits like apples and pears and figs are accessory fruits, but I leave that information unsaid.
“I’m a cucumber, then. They’re fruit, right? Because I’m long and thick . . .” With his free hand, Eggo mimes wrapping his fingers around something cucumber sized. “And I feel great . . . on the whole.”
I elbow him in the ribs. “Steady on, champ.” Shit, and now I’m blushing. My face heats, and Eggo’s thumb presses into the dimple on my back. I have to close my eyes to regain control of my body’s traitorous reflex actions.
Luckily, Andy seems to be the type of guy who lives for the “bants.”
“Aiden, you might have to answer the question on Finn’s behalf.”
“He’s a pumpkin.” Okay, I know pumpkins are in fact berries, but I’m not thinking straight.
Andy startles, perhaps at the readiness of my response, and Eggo turns his entire body to look at me. His legs practically mount mine.
“Because . . . well, he’s extremely versatile, and he’s a big guy with a hard exterior, but on the inside he’s actually soft and sweet and full of surprises.”
“Dude! I promised myself I wouldn’t cry on camera again,” Eggo jokes. He pivots towards Andy, but doesn’t take his hand away from me.
“That was . . . rather poetic,” Andy says, looking around to see if anyone else had been paying attention. Or maybe he’s clocked the gentle and borderline edging caress of my teammate’s fingers on my back. “I’m not sure we’ll hear a better answer to that question today.”
Andy coughs and glances over our shoulders at someone in the corner of the room.
