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“Like this,” Andrew said in an absurdly high voice. “You sound like a child.” In his normal voice, he added, “Your regular speaking voice is much better. You actually sound like a grown woman.”
“Please, do go on. I’m sitting rapt with attention.”
“But for real. Your real voice has smokiness to it. It has a timbre to it that makes me think of campfires and warm blankets.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “It suits you more than that high-pitched shit.”
I blushed and looked down at my linked hands. “Thanks. I think.”
I could feel Andrew’s eyes on me, so I looked up. His eyes held a fire whose source I couldn’t place. “It’s a compliment, Ace. Take it confidently.” He sighed and pushed his hair back. “I don’t know what’s happened to you in the last two years, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good for your self-esteem. Though you weren’t the most fearless—”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“—your self-esteem is practically nonexistent now.” He peered at me intently.
I pushed my shoulders back and stiffened my spine. “Nothing bad happened to me in the last two years. I wish you would stop saying that.”
“I wish I would stop feeling it, so I guess we’re even.” We glared at each other for a moment before the waitress came back with our food.
I looked up in surprise as she placed the plates down in front of us. A mountain of pancakes sat high on the plates, a round dollop of butter parked on each stack. Steam rose off of the food in a delightful, lazy haze. Andrew grinned at me, disagreement seemingly forgotten.
“Let’s eat,” he said.
