Page 31 of Space Daddy and a Boy Called Twink

“I’ve had some fried chicken. There’s a burger joint not far from the ship that I stop by to partake in the local culture, and they offer fried chicken.”

“Oh, well, let me know what you haven’t had, and we can go from there.”

“I’ll need your help,” I said, looking at the nearly unintelligible menu.

“You can’t read this?”

“I can read some things. Burger and chicken I recognize from what I’ve picked up at that place, but overall, Furkers aren’t as good at reading as we are speaking. As you can imagine, there’s an evolutionary advantage to picking up spoken language. Reading would be useful, but from an evolutionary perspective, it was usually unnecessary to get to the point of mating.”

At that last word, Twink’s gaze on me intensified.

“You find a lot of reasons to talk about mating, don’t you?”

“It is at the top of my mind most of the time. I’m sorry. I can modulate that, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“I mean, I’d rather we nottalkabout it.”

The way he emphasizedtalk, I sensed he didn’t mean it literally, and if anything, what I detected from him was that sense of humor that delighted me. “Notalkingabout it?”

“Talk is cheap.”

I knew this idiom from my park visits, and hearing him say it left me intrigued.

“You shouldn’t say those kinds of things to a Furker,” I teased back.

“Well, if you’d keep my mouth busy, then I wouldn’t be able to say anything.”

As my mind went to all the ways I could keep that mouth busy, he smirked, as though pleased with himself for planting these naughty seeds in my mind.

“Well, that all has to come after you show me what an amazing date you are,” he went on.

“Not sure how to do that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m like your official guide to Earth, so it’s my job to make sure this date is a good one. So we can sprinkle some flirting in, but we also need to get to know each other.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Don’t sound so serious about it. It’s supposed to be a fun, playful thing.”

“Of course.”

“You still sound too serious.”

“A Furker is—”

“Always serious? Okay, I get it, but chill out. Let’s just start with ordering.”

He walked me through the menu options, and when the waiter returned, at Twink’s request, he provided recommendations. Twink reaffirmed his interest in the chicken schnitzel, and I ordered a steak with mashed potatoes.

“How would you like your steak done?” the waiter asked.

“Oh…” This was not something Twink had discussed with me, but the waiter seemed to notice my confusion and offered, “Rare, medium-rare, medium…”

“How difficult are they to find?” I asked, and Twink laughed. This was not like his usual laugh; there was tension in him.

“Oh, he’s a real clown, isn’t he?” This seemed like a performance for the waiter. “He likes his steak medium.”

I took that as Twink’s way of helping me out of a tricky situation, so I nodded, smiling to play off my misunderstanding.