Page 71 of Knot All is Crystal
“You’re very talented.” She kisses him on the tip of his nose, and he preens.
“That’s not how you guys met?” Gage asks.
“Nope. I was at Prism and -”
“Can I tell that story after dinner?” Crystal winces. Maverick takes her hand and kisses the tips of her fingers, seemingly nonplussed about being interrupted.
“But yeah,” Gage continues after a beat. “I tattooed Maverick, and Emmanuel used to babysit me when I was a kid.”
“I was friends with his brother before he moved away.”
“Before he abandoned me, you mean,” Gage mutters. “At least you stuck around while you could.”
“Hiccup, Alan wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I whisper, stepping towards him.
“I don’t want to talk about that. And don’t call me Hiccup. I’m not five years old anymore.”
An awkward silence spreads between the four of us at Gage’s admonishment. Eventually, it’s broken by Maverick.
“Well, something smells really fucking good, so if we’re not gonna talk, we may as well use our mouths for something else, yeah?”
TWENTY-FIVE
Oh boy,this is awkward. But Maverick had the right idea about sitting down to eat to allow us to move through the thick haze of discomfort.
As we sit around the table, Emmanuel opens the styrofoam containers and walks us through the dishes he brought.
“Alright, so my family is from Colombia, and I wanted to introduce you to some of the food,” he says, grabbing a plate and beginning to pile it with food. “This is a bandeja paisa. It’s got chicharrón, which is fried pork belly, steak, rice, beans, chorizo, and egg. I cut up the egg to mix with rice and beans because that’s the best way to eat it.”
The food smells so good, and my mouth is watering. “Oh, and gotta have some avocado and an arepa.” He holds up a golden disk. “It’s made of cornmeal. It’s hard to describe, but it’s so good when it’s drenched in butter. I also got everyone an empanada. Colombian empanadas don’t use the dough you’ve tried before - we use yellow cornmeal instead. So much better.”
He places a plate in front of me, then begins making another. “Pan de bono is a cheese bread, and then I got arepas de choclo, which are sweet corn cakes filled with cheese. My mom made the best arepas, but these are pretty close.”
Eventually, we all have a plate full of food, even though he only had three bandeja paisas. He must read the question on my face. “I know Alphas eat a ton, but these plates are still massive. With everything and the extra chicharron, I knew we’d have no problem splitting three.”
He picks up the chicharron, a long, slightly curled piece of fried pork belly with slices running through it, making it look almost like bicycle spokes. I watch as he grabs one of the spokes and breaks it off the main piece. I follow his lead, popping the fried meat into my mouth.
“Oh fuck,” I say with a groan. “This is so good.”
Emmanuel chuckles, and Maverick dives into his plate across from me. But Gage is staring at his plate, not touching any of it.
“Gage?” I ask as quietly as I can. “What’s wrong? Is it gluten? Should I get you something else to eat?” I move to get up from the table, but he stops me with a little huff of a laugh.
“No, it’s just that I haven’t had Colombian food since I entered foster care,” he says quietly. “Just brings back memories I spent a long time burying.”
“I’m sorry, Hic-Gage,” Emmanuel says gently. “I don’t think either of us could’ve predicted this.”
He nods before picking up the half of the large, sweet arepa on his plate. He takes a bite, a smile ripping across his handsome face. “You’re right. It’s good, but not as good as your mom’s.”
One day, I’ll get more of that story from them. The fact that Gage was in foster care is news to me, but it’s not like I know the Beta very well.
“So you two know each other, then?” Maverick asks, oblivious to the discomfort the two seem to be feeling. “What’s that like?”
Emmanuel clears his throat and puts his fork down. “I was best friends with Gage’s older brother. He was like a little brother to me and another kid to my parents for a few years there.”
Gage nods solemnly but doesn’t look up from his plate. “And then I went into the foster system. I couldn’t contact them anymore. And my brother, Alan, wasn’t the best at keeping in touch either.”
“Is it going to be weird seeing each other’s dicks?” I choke on my bite and smack Maverick across the chest with the back of my hand. He looks at me with wide eyes. “What? Tell me you weren’t thinking about it. I know there are packs with brothers and twins and stuff in them, but I’ve always wondered how that works. I don’t have a brother, but I don’t think I’d be cool seeing his dick if I did have one.”
