AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How have you never been here before?” Ezra shakes his head. “It’s three blocks from your apartment. And they have the most amazing Belgian waffles in the city.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, looking at him and wondering if he’s going to take his arm away from mine. We still look like a couple, and I wonder how he feels about presenting that image to the public around us. “We look like we’re dating, you know,” I add before the waitress gets close, jostling my arm that he’s holding.
“We look a little more suspicious than that,” Ezra disagrees and slides his hand down my arm until he can lace his fingers with mine and steps closer to me. “Nowwe look like a couple,” he whispers and winks as the woman in front of us stops and grabs two sets of silverware from a bin.
“Just two of you?” she asks, looking between us with a boredom that I feel in my soul. This woman is probably in her late fifties, early sixties at most, and looks like she’s been burned out for years at this job.
“Yeah,” I say when Ezra doesn’t. “Just…us?” It occurs to me I don’t know if Ezra is waiting for the others or not.
He rewards my answer with a grin. “Just us,” he agrees. “This time.”
As if there’s going to be a next time.
The woman leads us to a booth in the corner and gestures to it with a small flick of her hand, like this really is the best she can offer.
Ezra barely even glances at her. He slides into the booth, and I follow on the opposite side, my eyes on him as he opens the menu to flick through it.
“I’ll be your waitress today,” the woman sighs with all the weight of the world clearly heavy on her shoulders. “Drinks?”
“Chocolate milk,” Ezra says instantly, not needing any time to think.
“Same, I guess,” I shrug, opening my own menu to peruse the pages. I have no idea what I’m doing, and theInkubushoodie feels…strange against my skin. Not a bad strange, exactly. But I’ve never been so aware of a piece of clothing like I am this.
I let out a sigh and let my eyes close as the waitress leaves, promising to return with chocolate milk and readiness for our orders.
“If you have anything you want to ask me, now’s the time,” Ezra says with a chuckle in his tone. “It’s morning, I haven’t had any caffeine or food, and I’m feeling…” he searches for the word. “Benevolent, I suppose.”
“You don’t seem very benevolent.”
“I’m buying you whatever you want for breakfast without asking for anything from you.Pretty surethat’s the definition of benevolence,” he shoots back, smile unwavering.
While that’s…probably, technically true, the mark on the back of my neck that I didn’t ask for puts a lie to the words. So does the hoodie that makes me feel like a walking mascot for the Lost Boys.
“I don’t get why any of you care so much,” I mutter, staring sightlessly at the cream and red menu. “Like, I’m really grateful for you saving me. Butmurderingsomeone seems to be going a bit far to drive the point home.”
“He wasn’t doing much for collective humanity anyway,” Ezra assures me. “No family. Very few friends. Lived in abasementand did nothing except insult people all day. Like he did you, by the way.” I definitely appreciate him reminding me of that, and I frown at him as he goes on. “Why care about him? Why care aboutanyof that when he’s dead, and you’re not.”
“Okay, but that brings me to my next point–” I’m cut off by the waitress coming back with two large glasses of chocolate milk that she sets in front of us.
“You both know what you want?” She doesn’t act like she cares either way, but Ezra’s grin brightens, and he nods enthusiastically.
“I want the chocolate chip bubble waffles. And a side of bacon.” He hands her the menu and looks expectantly at me as ifdaring meto be obstinate or bolt for the door.
I don’t do either. I frown and hand the woman my menu, offering her my own slight smile that could never match the pure brilliance of Ezra’s mask. “Could I have cherry pancakes, please?”
The woman continues nodding and takes the menu. “Any sides with them?”
“No.” My stomach is writhing and twisting inside of me, and I take a break in order to quell it. “Just the pancakes.”
The woman doesn’t respond. She doesn’t read back our order, but to her credit, itisa pretty simple one. She just turns on her heel and goes to the kitchen, barking out words to the chefs behind it with the same bored tone she’d used with us.
“Next point?” Ezra reminds me, sipping his chocolate milk while he watches me.
“I’m not anyone special. I work at a bookstore and play video games sometimes. I’m not on the verge of inventing the cure for cancer. Or figuring out intergalactic travel. Cyril’s aChancellor, right?” I don’t wait for him to agree or disagree. “I’m not secretly the agent of some other family wanting to move in on the city or buy something out from under his family. So you ‘owning’ me…” I speak the word much more quietly than the others as if it’s a curse or a swear. “There’s no point to it. The only thing you could possibly get out of it is a discount at my friend’s bookstore.”
When I find Ezra’s face, I’m shocked to see the amusement there. My bewildered gaze meets his, and Ezra snorts out a laugh that he covers with one hand. Not that it has any effect. His shoulders shake, and his eyes glitter as he laughs behind his hand. It’s very clear he’s laughingatme.
“I’m not sorry,” he assures me. “Butyou’rehilarious.”
