Page 59 of Jonas


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"Thank you,” she says, grinning up at me. How does she get more beautiful every time I look at her? What causes that? I give her a half smile, busy trying to convince my body to stay still. You can’t just grab her and haul her out of here. Slow, remember?

She turns to John studying the shelves behind her, oblivious to the war going on in me. "John, why don't I run back and grab the cranberries? I'll meet you guys near the checkouts." She takes off, and I spin the cart, desperate to stay with her. Where the fuck are cranberries? It's John's laugh that freezes me in my tracks.

"You gotta give that woman some space, man. You're going to chase her away."

I glare at him and lean on the handle of the cart, staring off down the aisle where Janey disappeared. "I want to make sure she's ok. That's all."

He snorts and stops next to me, growling at a man who bumps him. The man turns to say something, gets a look at John's face, and mumbles an apology.

"That scar could be useful," I mumble, watching how the next person stares and moves away. "You are being given far more room than I get. I don't like being in such busy places, but maybe if I looked meaner, it would be bearable."

John crosses his arms over his chest and flexes his muscles, making him look bigger. "I can help you out with that."

I study the line of stitches and wonder if it might be worth it. Of course, the pain would be significant, and the scar would be permanent. Neither of those things are a huge deterrent. But the itchy phase of any wound healing makes me crazy. Having my whole face itchy? Nope. Not for me.

"I appreciate the offer. But you giving me a similar scar probably is not the best solution. But I think I will have to come up with something." I push the cart down the aisle, looking back when John makes a choked sound.

"I wasn't fucking suggesting I cut you up. Shit, man."

"Oh. What were you suggesting?”

He catches up and walks next to me, scowling at everyone in front of us. "I was going to help you beef up. Maybe learn to look a little meaner. The sweater would have to go, though."

"I like my sweater." I own many more of these exact same cardigans. They're soft and warm, and they make me happy.

"It's hard to look tough wearing a grandpa sweater, man."

I stop, and mentally flick through all the faces Ransom made us practice. There's one in particular we used in a few sketchy situations that seems appropriate right now. Letting myself meet his eyes, I put it on like a mask.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, and he nods. "Well, okay then. Piece of cake, man."

Images of Black Forest, and rich buttercream with confetti cake, layers of cherries and cream filling , and ice cream cake flash through my mind. "Cake. Are we having cake too?"

He tilts his head, and the one undamaged eyebrow rises. "What?"

"What kind of cake?" My stomach twists and growls.

“What the fuck are we talking about?"

"Cake," I say slowly. "Do you have a concussion too?"

John rears back and scowls at me. ”I have no idea what we're talking about."

Maybe if I slow it down, this painful conversation can end. “You said cake.”

“I said it was a piece of cake. It's a figure of speech, man."

Disappointment makes my shoulders sag. "Oh. I hadn't heard that one before. My brothers haven't said it. Is it a common one?"

"I dunno. My mom used to say it all the time. You take things kinda literal, huh?"

"Sometimes," I say, wishing I didn't have to explain myself, but knowing things will be smoother if I do. "I tend to take language literally, at least at first. So when you said piece of cake, I thought you were talking about an actual cake. I didn't understand the context. The next time I hear it in a similar context, I'll understand. What exactly does it mean?"

He frowns and gazes down the aisle. "It means easy, I guess."

"Why? What does cake have to do with being easy? Preparing a cake is an art form. It makes no sense.” A lot of those figures of speech make no sense. They hurt my brain. But this one is a giant disappointment.

John groans. "I don't actually know. Fuck, why did you have to go and question it? Now I'm never gonna be able to use it again without thinking it's weird."

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