Page 36 of Two For One

He happily sanitized, dipping his corn dog in mustard before taking a big bite. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for some horrible food except it wasn’t. This tornado poutine was delicious, and I had to stop myself from eating it all in one go. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of being right, even though her huge grin was a big, ‘I told you so’.

Xiomara opened her mouth. “Don’t say it,” I barked.

She grinned. “You fucking loved that and I almost thought you might make love to it right in front of everyone. It’s not American Pie for you, it’s Tornado Poutine.”

Xiomara cackled.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Xiomara gasped. “Have you never watched ‘American Pie’? Isn’t that an oldie staple?”

“Why would I watch a movie about pie and I’m that much older than you.” I scowled.

“Oh my Goddess, we need a movie night immediately,” she said, biting into her corn dog, taking a bigger bite than I expected her to.

“We don’t do movie nights,” I grumbled.

“But this is a classic,” she said as she wiped her mouth. “Wait, how old are you? You can’t be that old. I feel like that's a prime millennial movie.”

Ezra passed Xiomara a small notebook. O didn’t grow up like the rest of us. He wrote. He lived in a posh castle in Scotland with servants and butlers. He’s too refined for movies like that.

“It wasn’t a castle.” I rolled my eyes. “It was a big estate, not a castle.”

“Ah, I was wondering where that slight accent of yours came from,” she said, finishing off her corn dog. “You do sound refined and like most things are beneath you.”

Ezra smirked writing in the notebook again. You have no idea how refined he can be. O likes the life of luxury and anything that makes him feel like the pampered prince he is.

“I’m not that bad,” I said, finishing my poutine, the urge to lick the paper plate was overwhelming.

“Well, I guess Ezra and I just have to corrupt you a little,” she said, taking a sip of her Coke.

I've tried for years. Ezra wrote.

“He just needs to be double teamed, maybe even spit roasted,” she said, grabbing all of our trash and throwing it away.

Ezra grinned, signing. See, this is why I like her. She is a firecracker.

“Yeah, you like her cause she gives me shit.” I rolled my eyes, chugging the rest of my water.

Win, Win. He signed.

“Wait till we get home,” I threatened.

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Xiomara said, grabbing Ezra’s hand and pulling him to our next destination.

We did a corn and mirror maze, a creepy as hell, merry-go-round and just as we were walking to the haunted house, I felt eyes on us. They followed us until we got into line, and I spotted the culprit.

“You guys go, I need to make a phone call,” I said, pulling my phone out.

“Can’t you call them afterwards?” Xiomara asked, her big amethyst eyes pleading with me.

“No, I will wait out here for you,” I said, dismissing her, watching her face fall as I turned to walk away.

My chest tightened with that something I had felt earlier, but seeing our stalker, I pushed the unknown feeling aside.

“King,” I said, standing next to a man who had a skeleton painted on his face.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” he asked, watching the crowd. “I thought seeing us a few months ago was enough.”