Run Away With Me

Chapter 10: Thorn in my side.

Nao stares at Orla as she does him.

The eighteen-year-old loses interest in a second, while Orla seems to be intrigued by the boy. Nao swallows his last bit of fried eggs, wipes his lips and hands with a wet sanitizing towel and stands up, having to meet with one of Corin's people.

He doesn't say goodbye, just looks at Jamaica and I and exits the mall's food counter.

"Who is he?" Orla asks the moment the door closes after him.

"Nao," Jamaica mutters, nibbling on some nuggets while coloring a magazine page.

"Yeah, okay, but what is he?"

"What do you mean?" I'm not paying much attention to the longhaired woman, coloring my own page with crayons.

"He smells... different?"

"Yeah..." I mutter, trying my best not to get out of line. This frog's eyes are too small for its head and it's hideous, but it's one of the most popular cartoon characters in Reim. Sometimes when I'm watching cartoons I wonder why they make the characters so ugly and weird.

"So what's his deal?"

"Tell me when you find out."

"And what's your deal?" I look up at her, questioning her with silence. "You smell really sweet." I look down at the page, embarrassed.

"Tell me when you find out," Jamaica says, switching his green for an orange. I nudge his leg. Orla seems unsatisfied. She can go searching around the world, but she won't be getting her answers from me and I doubt from Nao.

I finish with my frog, smirking when I see that Jamaica isn't even half done. A silence stretches between the three of us, Orla eating her steak with frowned eyebrows, Jamaica still coloring and me sipping on my nettle tea.

"Loopie what did you mean when you asked if I had anywhere to go?"

"Like you heard," I sip from the hot beverage, "if you don't have anywhere to go, you can always come along with us." Jamaica nudges my leg, asking me to consider this for the tenth time.

For some reason he doesn't like her much.

"Why?" she asks.

I blink.

"Why not?"

"What benefit would that have for you?" She pushes her empty bowl further onto the table. "I mean, I'm not weak, but I don't see how my existence will help you."

"Why do you need to be useful to tag along?"

"Would you rather have someone useless?"

"I don't really care." I shrug.

"How can you not care?" She fixes me with a hard stare. "What if someone attacks you and all your partners are weak, what if you need to make decisive decisions and all of you are stupid."

"I've never really thought of that..." I mean, after years of solitude I'm finally acting on my nature to be social with my own kind, pushing the notion of being rejected at the back of my mind and just looking forward. "What do you have to offer?"

She's taken aback by my answer. "Um, I'm a decent fighter and I don't have to eat a lot."

"What makes you a disadvantage?" I feel like an employer in an interview talking to a possible employee. This also feels a little... iffy to me, since it makes it appear as if I am only interested in what she can offer in this relationship than anything else.

And that's not what I intended. If she wants to come, she can, if she doesn't want to come, she can suit herself.

"Um, people have told me that my communication sucks."