He stopped mid-sentence because she upped and walked off.
“Come on!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Finally, he caught up to her standing in front of a booth.
He frowned. “Deep-fried s’mores?”
“You don’t know what s’mores are? Don’t tell me you’ve never had one. If you do, I’ll think you seriously deprived as a child.”
“I know what s’mores are. I’ve had s’mores. But deep-fried? Why would you deep fry a s’more?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Because you can.”
“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should do it.”
“All right, then answer me this. Why wouldn’t you deep fry them?”
“Maybe because of the oil, the fat—s’mores are already filled with plenty of stuff that’s bad for you, sugar and God knows what else goes into marshmallows. Why would you add to that?”
She shrugged. “I already told you. Because you can.”
“And I already told you, that doesn’t mean you should. Or don’t you make a distinction between what you can do and what you should do? Are you telling me you have no moral compass?”
She patted her pockets. “It seems I left mine at home.”
He looked up at the sky.God grant me patience.He drew a deep breath before fixing his eyes on hers.
“Even you must agree there are some things you shouldn’t do. I would add some things you shouldn’t say, but then as we both know, that moral principle has escaped you altogether. Still, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and think evenyouwould admit there are some things that ought not to be done.”
“Really? Evenme? Okay, Sir Stick, you tell me one thing I ought not to do. And no stealing from the Ten Commandments, like ‘thou shalt not kill.’ Because you yourself have broken that commandment. Why just taking into account today, one day thus far, I couldn’t begin to count the number of bugs you’ve squashed, stomping them to smithereens.”
Clarke stared at the snow.
Do bugs crawl over snow? Or do they live under it? Where do the bugs go when it snows?
She glared at him and then took a step toward him. He told himself to take a step back, but his feet ignored his brain and remained fixed. Maybe it was because of her eyes. They’d gone stormy and gray. He swallowed and inched back a bit.
She tossed her head. “Are you really going to make my eating marshmallows—sugar, corn syrup, gelatin, and air into a moral issue?”
“Is that what they’re made of?”
She nodded. “Oh, and I forgot to mention water. Certainly, you can’t object to water. The purifier of souls, saints and sinners alike.”
His mouth twitched. He knew it wanted to smile, and he was working hard not to let it. “How do you know all that?”
“Pixel told me.”
I wonder if Pixel can answer my bugs and snow question.
He sighed. “If this is what you want, so be it. I guess I would think you’d leave the s’mores for dessert. Have something more substantial, some protein first. But if you want deep-fried s’mores …”
He was about to order from the man, but Ceci stopped him. Her eyes suddenly flashed as she looked at something behind him.
“Good idea.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
“Krispy Kreme burgers!”
