The Metal Children

10 A Test Of Friendship

Claire finished her first glass of liquor with ease. She wasn't exactly the one to drink, at least not that often, but a glass of beer hadn't done her head any harm just yet. She settled her empty glass of beer next to her plate of corn-cob and a sloppily folded piece of mushroom-and-chicken-filled fajita. There were There were plates of food on the table more plates of food on the table of the booth they were sitting at in the busy bar-cum-restaurant - more than enough to fill two not-very-hungry tummies. She wasn't complaining, however, as Kerol had promised to pay for the meal tonight.

He was still in his button up shirt, only to have one button undone to look less formal and more casual. He was sitting across her at the booth, awkwardly focusing on filling his tortilla with odd combination of seasoned hot plate chicken pieces, mashed potatoes, strips of beef, and guacamole. Kerol seemed distracted the entire time Claire was with him. He wasn't talking that much, but Claire was convinced that he would somehow open up about why he invited her to have dinner together. It was not that having dinner together was an odd thing for them both, but lunch earlier was awkward enough. Guilt took over her upon knowing how she could be responsible for the deaths of Kerol's loved ones, years ago. What is done, is done, but that wouldn't stop Kerol from being vengeful, somewhat.

It would be worse if Kerol finds out that Claire is a Bender, one of those monsters who took the life of his girlfriend and his mother.

"Call me back in a bit," Kerol said, hanging up on his cellphone. Claire didn't realize he was in the middle of a call until he spoke.

She made herself a gentle reminder to not let her thoughts stray too far again, at least not at dinner. Claire glanced at Kerol curiously, head tilted and hands on her lap. "Who called? Was it important?"

"Oh, it was Barbs," Kerol answered half-mindedly, as he placed his cellphone neatly on the table, and resumed to folding his fajita. It was fat with fillings, and to Claire's surprise, she thought she had seen a french fry sticking out at one end. She held in a chuckle, but a grin escaped. "What?"

She made a face, and then shook her head. "Barbs called? Is it important?"

"Just work stuff," Kerol shrugged, and took a bite of his fajita. A french fry dropped from where he bit, along with a piece of chicken. He struggled to chew the bit that was in his mouth, and stared at the poor piece french fry on the table.

She broke into laughter. "Haiyo, you makan messier than my nephew!"

"You have a nephew?"

"No, but if I do, he'd makan better than you."

Kerol wiped the tiny spill sauce from the edge of his mouth with his thumb, and then leaned forward at the table with a smirk on his face. "At least it's you. I know I don't have to be so polite around you."

"Ah, really?" Claire raised her eyebrows and shot him an arrogant look. "I'm not worth being polite around, like this?"

"I just don't feel the need to impress you," he explained simply, waving his one hand.

Claire was a little surprised, but she couldn't disagree any less. "So, I'm not worth impressing, like this?"

"You - you and Haru - are like sisters to me. Think about it, why would you want to impress someone you won't date?"

Claire cringed with a chortle. She couldn't disagree any less about that too. The idea of dating him is completely ridiculous. She had known him for years, and accepted him as a friend. She was pretty sure that Haru would also feel the same. At least, not that I know. Haru had never been the one to be openly affectionate. Otherwise, she'd too see Kerol as a brother.