Page 19 of Hang the Moon
She shifted awkwardly on her feet. While she wouldn’t mind the company, she didn’t want to impose. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have plans.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Now I do.” He grinned, dimples flashing. “Grab your keys. I’m going to introduce you to Seattle.”
***
Brendon did a shitty job of disguising his revulsion, his lips puckering as Annie slurped her extra-large caramel crunch frappe through her straw.
“Want a sip?” She held out her drink, laughing when he nearly tripped over the curb in his haste to back away.
“No, I do not. It’s not evencoffee.”
“The three shots of espresso in here beg to differ.” She smiled around her straw.
“It’s a glorified milkshake. A six-dollar glorified milkshake.”
“And it’s tasty.” Between the sugar and caffeine, she was feeling much perkier. “Besides, what do you have against milkshakes?”
He grimaced. “You don’t remember?”
She craned her neck to look up at him. “Remember what?”
The freckled bridge of his nose crinkled. “That time I bet you I could finish my milkshake first? Ring any bells?”
The memory hit her like a freight train. Immediately, her eyes scrunched shut, her lips rolling inward, the rest of her shuddering. “Don’t. You’re going to retraumatize me. You ruined me for French fries for over a year.”
A serious feat seeing as French fries were one of her favorite foods.
“I ruinedyouon French fries?” His shoulders shook with laughter as they wiggled their way through the Saturday morning foot traffic near Pike Place Market. “I’m the one who had the fry lodged up his nose.”
She gagged. “Don’t talk about it!”
A simple bet on who could finish their milkshake first—Darcy had been unable to participate, what with being lactose intolerant—had resulted in Brendon, thirteen at the time, barfing in the parking lot of In-N-Out. She’d gotten the worst brain freeze of her life and somehow—she still wasn’t entirely sure how it was physiologically possible—Brendon had wound up with a poorly chewed French fry lodged up his nose in the aftermath of puking his guts out. It was stuck inside his nasal cavity to the point where it had required a trip to the emergency room to dislodge it.
“Talk about it? I had to live it. I can’t look at a milkshake without my sinuses stinging.”
Her own nose burned sympathetically. “Fair. But the point stands—you don’t have to like it, but this counts as coffee.”
“I take you to the coffee shop that, arguably, has the best organic, ethically sourced coffee in the city and you orderthat.” He clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Shame.”
She slurped. “I feelawful.”
Crossing the street, he guided her alongside the market, past stalls of handcrafted soaps, locally sourced honey, bright bouquets of flowers, fresh produce, jewelry, and mason jars full of pepper jelly. A few yards away, a crowd gathered around men in heavy-duty orange rubber overalls hurling huge salmon across a counter while shouting.
A gentle tug on her wrist stopped her from stepping inside the covered market for a closer look. Brendon jerked his chin to the left. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
Without letting go of her hand, he led her around a corner, veering off down a shadowy tunnel that opened up into an alley, the brick walls covered in—
“Gum?” She laughed.
So much gum, more gum than brick. Pink and red, vibrant blues and dusty yellows, off-white, orange, green—wads and wads of gum were stuck to the walls of the alley, several inches thick. It was as disgusting as it was fascinating.
“The Gum Wall.” He reached inside his pocket and withdrew two sticks of Juicy Fruit, offering her one. “I know it’s touristy, but it’s a Seattle landmark. You’ve got to go at least once.”
She set her drink down on the cobblestones close to the wall and unwrapped the stick of gum, sliding it between her lips, biting it in half. A burst of watermelon hit her tongue, tart and sweet. She chewed until the stick lost its shape, fruity flavor flooding her mouth.
Brendon’s lips rolled together and his tongue slipped out, covered in green gum. His cheeks puffed, his nostrils twitching, a ginormous bubble forming in front of him. It went from opaque to translucent, the gum growing thinner and thinner.
She wasn’t entirely sure what possessed her to do it, but she reached out, popping Brendon’s bubble. A thin sheen of pale green gum covered his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the little cleft in his chin.
