Page 38 of Late Bloomer
“And the eggs?”
“Scrambled. Bacon instead of sausage if you can.”
Maude clucks her tongue as she walks away, yelling our order to the guy from the parking lot as he heats up the grill.
“Did you really just order a steak from a Waffle House at one a.m.?” Pepper asks, her face pure horror.
“Of course,” I say dryly. “Best beef in town.”
We sit in awkward silence, accidentally catching each other’s gazes every few minutes before darting away.
“Is your neck okay?”
The question catches me off-guard, and it isn’t until Pepper nods toward my right shoulder that I realize I’d been rubbing at a knot.
“Just a little stiff,” I say. “That’s what she said,” I add. Because, apparently, I’m twelve.
Pepper lets out a small snort, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. My own mouth mirrors the grin. “You just triggered some of my worst middle-school memories.”
I slap my hands to my chest. “Ouch, Pepper. Going straight for the jugular. I’m not sure there’s an insult that can cut deeper.”
“Serves you right, talking like it’s 2009.”
“That joke is a timeless classic and you know it.”
“You need some serious help if that’s what you consider a classic,” Pepper says, arching one of those perfectly sharp eyebrows at me.
“I’ll bring it up in therapy. Which I’ll go to as soon as I can afford some cute little health insurance.”
Pepper laughs again. “A daunting five-year plan.”
I tut. “Let’s be realistic. In this economy? Ten-year minimum.”
Pepper’s smile notches higher before she groans and drops her head to her hands. “This wholelifething is pretty hard for you too, then?”
A laugh is pulled out of me so violent it sounds like a hog squeal, making us both jump. Our eyes lock for a moment, Pepper’s wide with surprise, and then we burst into giggles.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” she asks, cheeks brilliantly red and eyes glassy. She’s so cute, and laughing with her feels so damngoodthat my heart swells like a balloon, about to lift me to the clouds. I have the irrational urge to ask her to hold on to me.
“I might be the worst adult on the planet,” I say, leaning toward her. “Like, deadass. I can’t handle anything. I’m not sure I’ve ever actually paid taxes correctly or what taxes even are, I’m always hungry and never have any food, I can’t hunt or gather, and I lose my phone at least nine times a day.”
“How old are you?” Pepper asks, pulling her hot-chocolate-colored hair up and into a ponytail. I trace the lines of her long neck with my eyes.
“Twenty-four.”
“I wish I could say it gets better, but it only gets worse.”
“Lovely.”
“Well, if by the time you turn twenty-six you wake up and don’t have a flower farm on the brink of financial collapse with a random pink-haired woman with a giant sack of shoes excitedly announcing your sudden eviction notice, you’ll be in a more put-together spot than me.”
I giggle again. “Oh please. I’m not going to evict you. Notwhen torturing you by being your housemate is so much more rewarding. It’s only been two weeks and I’m already telling time by your various sighs of disappointment.”
Pepper rolls her eyes, but a tiny smile inches up the corners of her mouth.
“Here, honey,” Maude says, clanging our plates onto the table. “Need anything else?” she asks, already walking away.
“What more could one ask for?” I say, jamming my fork through the thin “steak” and holding it next to my face with a goofy smile. A steady drizzle of grease falls to the plate.
