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“I use the subway like four to ten times a day, every single day, and I’ve never almost been pushed onto the tracks, so they might be onto something,” she said. Only then did she realize she was still holding onto me, dropping me like I’d burned her as one of the guys knocked the other on his ass, then took off at a dead run.
I was slower releasing her, so she yanked away and turned, then took several steps away.
It was as we were stepping into the subway car that I realized I’d left my jacket back at her mother’s gym.
A small smile tugged at my lips at the idea of having another excuse to see her again if, for some reason, after this meeting, she decided we didn’t need to work together anymore.
“Try not to laugh at his alpaca haircut,” Saylor warned as she raised her hand to knock on the door.
“Hey!” a young guy answered the door, his hair flopping anytime he moved. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have even thought twice about it if it hadn’t been for her warning. But now with the mental image of a fucking alpaca going on, it was taking every fucking thing I had not to bust out laughing. “I got something special cooking for you,” the kid declared.
“Let me guess… pizza rolls,” Saylor said as she invited herself inside.
“Specialty ones,” the kid declared, bouncing on his feet.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what that might mean,” she admitted.
“They’re orange chicken!” he declared, beaming at her.
She wasn’t made of stone, it seemed, because some of her ice thawed at his enthusiasm. “That’s nice of you,” she said. “Anthony, this is Keith. Keith, this is Anthony—“
“Costa,” Keith cut her off as he thrust an arm out to me, eager in everything he did, it seemed. He shook my hand like I was some sort of fucking celebrity or something. “Know all about you, man,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.
“That’s… troubling,” I decided.
“All good things! Well, mostly. What’d you do to your head? Big, scary guy?” he asked, enthusiastic likely because his video games made violent scenarios seem fun.
“Yeah, two-ton, at least,” Saylor said, shooting me an amused look. “Anyway. The Czechs—where are you going?” she asked as Keith rushed past her, away from his desk, and closer to his makeshift kitchen.
“The rolls,” Keith declared, rushing to open his toaster oven, then taking out the rolls to place them evenly in three separate bowls.
“He portioned some for you too,” she said under her breath.
“Lucky me,” I agreed just as quietly.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Keith asked when we didn’t immediately dive in.
“For them to cool,” Saylor said. “Trust me, you don’t want to give this guy anything hot. With his luck, he’ll get third-degree burns in his mouth.
“Oh, right. Right. How’s your dog?” Keith asked, making his way to his desk chair, but swiveling it to face us as he poked a roll into his mouth.
“She’s fine.”
“What did you name her?” he asked. When she didn’t immediately answer, his eyes went buggy. “You didn’t name her yet?” he exclaimed, seeming genuinely offended by the idea.
“I don’t know what to name her,” Saylor said, shrugging.
“Get a baby name book!” Keith said, brightening at the prospect. “They have them at the newspaper stand down the block.”
“Good to know. Now, back to these guys…” Saylor said, as determined to keep Keith on task as he was to veer off of it.
“Not till you try the rolls,” Keith said, giving her the stern look of a parent to a kid who declared dinner was gross without even tasting it.
“Happy?” she asked, popping one into her mouth and forcing a smile as she chewed. And I watched her soul die in her eyes. “Tell Ant to try his,” she demanded, catching my amused look.
Too bad for her, I was a connoisseur of weird-ass frozen foods. Whenever I ran out of the frozen meals my mom or aunts had dropped off because I was always too busy working to cook for myself, I took myself down the frozen food aisle and grabbed random shit. To varying degrees of success. But if you’re hungry enough, you’ll choke just about anything down. So that was what I did with the rolls, managing to swallow them down after only maybe biting them once or twice.
“Great,” I declared as Saylor tried not to laugh.
