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“Go away, June,” I say.
The woman laughs and disappears. I grab a fork and nab a piece of cucumber with fresh sliced chili on top. With the coolness of the vegetable, the bite of the chili, and the sour-salt of the vinaigrette, it’s an explosion of flavor.
Probably nothing like the princess likes, but—
“Oh, my God!” Sidney puts her hand to her mouth. “Oh, oh, this is so good. Wow.”
I push the plate at her. “Eat.”
“You don’t want it?”
“I’ve had it before, you haven’t. Don’t worry, I’ll eat your burger if you can’t.”
She laughs, a bubble of happiness as she drinks her drink—nodding at the glass like it’s some holy elixir, I’m wondering if the girl gets out at all from her fucking ivory and gold tower—and digs into the salad.
“I see your game there, Mack Burns.” She spears a piece of cucumber. “But touch my burger, and you’ll see how I can wield cutlery like weapons.”
I’m immediately intrigued. “Can you?”
She thinks about it. “No, but I’m a fast learner.”
“Good to know.”
We drink our drinks, Sidney faster than me. I get her a second one and a Coke for me since I’m driving, and she continues to evade the personal questions I slot into the chat. It’s just movies, books, and music, really. And if I were the kind of man who was looking, I’d be weighing up the differences, and whether it’s the kind of gulf you want to back away from or the kind you want to cross and explore those new lands to see what slots in where.
I like action movies. Stupid-ass comedies, war movies . . . and she likes boring ones that win awards and are based on books where nothing happens, but I suspect people talk about their feelings a lot. And enjoy metaphors.
She likes weird music and small indie bands. I like whatever’s playing on the rock radio when I’m working.
I don’t read enough these days, and she seems to love books. That one I can get behind because London loves her books, and whenever I’m left with her, we do a lot of reading. Some of those books are fucking funny. She likes princesses, so she’d probably like Sidney.
Fuck me. I’ve turned into the lonely uncle.
Sidney puts her burger down as she peers at me. “You look like something just died.”
“My dignity as a card-carrying manly man.”
She waits, and I go to steal a fry. She slaps my hand—June took the cutlery.
I sigh. “Just thinking about your boring ass movies—”
“You haven’t seen them.”
“I’ve seen enough when my mom watches that shit to know glaciers move faster.” I steal another fry, taking advantage of her indignation. “No, I was just thinking I like some of London’s books.”
She takes a bite of her burger, and when she swallows, she offers me a look full of fake pity. “It’s okay, at least you can read.”
“Goddamn it, Princess. There’s no fire for me to dump you back in.” I steal another fry.
“You had your own food, you know.”
I drop my gaze to my empty plate and pat my abs. “Growing boy.”
“Thank you,” she says, sliding her plate with the remnants to me, which are a pile of fries and a quarter of the burger.
“Princess, no. Eat.”
“Full girl,” she says with a laugh.
