Page 48 of G8
Ingrid stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He held up the top. “This. Where’s the bread?”
“It’s the type of bread they use here for their burgers,” P8 explained around a mouthful.
“It’s good!” F8 exclaimed. “I like it better than the breadweuse!”
“What breadyouuse?” Ingrid inquired, still looking confused. “What kind of bread is that?”
“Bread bread,” G8 told her. “You know. The kind you toast in the morning for breakfast. The kind you wrap around a weenie to make a hot dog. That kind of bread.” He watched her raise a hand to her lips as if in thought. “What?”
“I keep forgetting you were raised to think…” She steadied herself and let out her breath with a whoosh. When she finally looked back at him, there was a sparkle of tears in her eyes. “There’s all kinds of breads, guys. This is a hamburger bun.” She tapped the top of her burger. “It’s for hamburgers and Sloppy Joes, and sometimes my mother used them to make mini-pizzas. There’s also hot dog buns. Buns made specifically for those wieners. There’s all sorts of breads, not just sliced white bread like you’ve only known.”
“Once again we’re learning about another thing they’d been lying to us about,” P8 remarked.
“Quit sounding so angry,” F8 gently chided him, then flashed him a smile. “I kind of like it. It’s like discovering a hidden treasure every day.”
“Or getting a birthday present every day,” Ingrid added with a giggle.
G8 turned to her. “A what?”
She gasped, her eyes widening. “A birthday present? Please tell me you at least got to celebrate your birthdays down there!”
“We were notified when we had gained another year to add to our ages. Is that what you mean?”
Ingrid set her plate on the ground beside her. “You’ve never celebrated holidays or your birthdays? Wow. But you know your current ages and the date you changed your ages, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” P8 replied. “Last July first I turned twenty-one. I’m the youngest.”
Ingrid turned to G8. “And you?”
“I turned twenty-eight. I’m the oldest.”
“When? On what date?”
He frowned. “On July first, like everyone else.”
“Like everyone…” She glanced at F8. “How old are you, F8?”
“Twenty-two.”
“As of July first?”
The petite brunette nodded. “Of course. Why do you seem surprised? How old didyouturn?”
“I turned twenty-seven on January twenty-third.”
P8 snorted. “You’re teasing us, right?”
“What do you mean?” Ingrid sounded confused.
“You mean you turned twenty-seven on the first of July,” P8 corrected her.
“No,” Ingrid firmly countered. “I turned twenty-seven on January twenty-third. I was born on January twenty-third.”
G8’s eyes never left Ingrid. “I sense she’s telling us the truth, guys. Her yearly change date is in January, not July. What are you trying to tell us, Ingrid? Why is yours different?”
“I bet she’s trying to tell us not everyone has a yearly change date of July first,” F8 guessed.
