Water Pressure

Chapter 3: Breakfast Together

"Wait, did your, my, Dad just set us up on a date? With... me?"

Stevonnie had been still since they waved Greg off down the beach. The gulls were awake, and had been swooping in drunken arcs by the shore to purposes of their own. The tide had risen nearly to the rocky promontory that housed the Crystal Temple and lent stature to the City's long disused lighthouse. Another moment, and the waves would start to dance and tease along Stevonnie's bare feet.

"I guess, yeah, kinda?" Their laugh was more of a memory to breathe. "Is that okay?"

"Yes." They hesitated, then straightened their back. "I mean, yes, of course. Obviously. This is great. I was just, you know, thinking out loud."

Ahead, a blue crab had found something in the dampened sand. Its pincers thrusted and snapped at the hollow they'd dug. Whatever it wanted, the prize just kept evading its grasp.

"I mean, it's not a formal date. Not like last time."

"Oh my gosh. You mean... "

"Yeah. Poor Kiki." They had been so caught up in the glamour of the ritual, they hadn't counted on the purpose of these displays, or what tends to come next.

"We didn't, we didn't mean to..."

"No, but that was pretty bad. She was really excited, I think. And we just—we didn't know what we were doing, and it made us fall apart." Stevonnie grimaced. "But," they inhaled, "that's not what this is."

"No. Right. Today it's just us. Me. Some quality me-time."

"Yeah! Stevonnie. On the town. No plans. No plans!" A dramatic pose, fist raised in defiance to the indifferent gulls above. The drama continued. "Just one wild fusion, in a world with no rules."

Their grip loosened as their eyes swam in thought. "If there are no rules, I don't know how we'd define 'wild'—but I do believe I accept the premise."

Up with the other fist. "Then, onward! For Stevonnie!"

"For Stevonnie!" A stomp to bring their feet in line left a crater and a cloud of fine sand, to swirl in the breeze. The gulls squawked and darted from view. The crab was nowhere to be seen.

Muffled from the house above, the sandpaper voice of a small violet Gem: "Stevonnie! Woo!"

*       *       *

"So where to first, Stevonnie?" As if in answer, they winced as their stomach turned over with a gurgle. "Sounds like breakfast, then. Shall we make this a romantic waffle for one? Hey, now," they pinched their arm, "let's not overplay our hand."

As they talked, a man walking a large poodle craned to watch them pass. Right, they were doing this in public again. "Maybe we'd better let Stevonnie drive," they whispered. "We'll be here if we're needed." They nodded, and began to rub where they'd pinched a moment before. "Right, yes. Let's not overthink. So, what does Stevonnie want?"

Beach City wasn't much of a city, really. Most of its business crowded the boardwalk and the foot of Lighthouse Hill. There were outlying areas, but those were a trek by foot. That scale left a gourmet somewhat taxed for choice. Stevonnie scanned the options as they arose. "Could always go for a cruller, but the Big Donut has been... different, since Mr. Dewey took over." They could see the pink face of the former mayor pressed against the glass of the door, his eyes imploring all passers-by.

The boardwalk showed more promise. As they browsed, Stevonnie continued to mutter aloud despite themself. "There's Peedee's truck, but... no, hash browns aren't very filling. But, oh! We said waffle earlier. The Asdoughlogy stand flips a mean iron. And by mean, I mean it's got claws! Ha, ha, ha!" Stevonnie rocked on their back foot as they laughed. Aware of the scene they were making, they blushed and stroked their neck to calm down. Well, this was going to be what it was. It was fine. They sighed, with a grin.