NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | ✓

62: hey google: how to stop time

            Despite her flat having many more comforts than my depleted council house, we've been meeting at mine more often since the change of the year. By now, Joe is used to the bitter tinto I brew every morning. It's definitely a downgrade from the frothy lattes George Clooney makes her but with a hefty spooning of panela, she might even like it.

If we were to ever move in together, though, she'd probably bring her Nespresso machine.

'What's the story with this one?' she asks, inspecting her rather lumpy mug.

'I made that on a ceramics date with Caleb. It's supposed to be one of them Kodama tree spirits from Princess Mononoke.'

I slide the breakfast plate in front of her, piled with scrambled tofu, beans, and mushrooms fried with (frozen) kale. 'Thank you,' she hums. 'I rate this service ten stars.'

'Is that right?' With my hand on the table, I bow my face closer to hers. 'You can rate it with a kiss if you want.'

Joe shakes her head at my corniness but kisses me anyway. The feel of her lips is familiar now, another step in a dependable morning routine–

'Where's the bleach?'

I jolt and stub my toe on the table leg. Why do they have to be so fucking quiet? Either they're slamming doors and punching things, or he's as silent as a ghost—for once I wish it was the prior.

Teeth gritted, I balance on one leg to massage the pain as I turn to Cece standing in the kitchen doorway, all black clothes and scowl. It's seven in the morning and they've already done their eyeliner.

'Pour it in my eyes,' they drone. 'Throat works too.'

A smile buds on my face from the sight of them despite my poor toe and their sourness. 'Good morning,' I try, sliding into my chair. My own mug has drawn mushrooms and the text "DILF: Damn I Love Fungi".

Cece don't respond as they pour the rest of the coffee, nearly half, into a larger mug with blood drops on it. I got it from donating when I were seventeen.

'You're awake already?'

'Try again.'

'Didn't you sleep at all?'

'Every time it's dark, I'm haunted by images far beyond your comprehension, Nicolás.' Their eyes hook into mine. 'Psychiatrists are boring. Don't become another one.'

'Well,' Joe chimes and looks like she instantly regrets it. She still can't stop herself. 'Maybe you just haven't found the right therapist. They're all different–'

The laugh that slices through their teeth cuts right through my skin. My blood simmers.

'So you're Nicolás's girlfriend?' They inspect Joe. 'What kind of brain damage did you suffer as a baby?'

'¡No seas un cabrón!'

'¿Así que eso es un sí? Just interesting that you didn't think to tell me.'

'Mis relaciones no son de tu incumbencia.'

Cece drinks their coffee through their grin but the same slithering disturbs his eyes.

Joe breaks the silence. 'Nikki tells me you're an artist. He's showed me your social media. Your stuff's brilliant.'

They stare at her the way you stare at an open wound out of morbid curiosity. 'You don't have to do that,' they finally say. '"Get to know me". Don't bother.' Ghost-like again, he glides out of the kitchen.