Page 59 of Finding Jack
“Wicked sense of humor, quick mind, and a sense of adventure? A strong sense of herself and no fear in setting boundaries? Someone who is driven and ambitious? A killer smile and better hair than me?”
My mouth fell open a tiny bit. I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Just put me for whichever option that is.”
I nodded and marked something random. I wished I could record this conversation and play that bit back over and over. “Ready for your result? Oh, this is shocking. It’s a tie.”
“Can’t be. I’m Thor, obviously.” He pointed to his long hair. “Except his looks better down than mine does.”
I loved Chris Hemsworth as much as the next girl. More, probably. But as a bonafide Chris Hemsworth lover, I wasn’t so sure he had anything on Jack in the hair up OR hair down department. I kept that to myself and shook my head instead. “Sorry. Thor isn’t even in the tie.”
“Let me guess.” He settled back and shot me a look of resignation. “It’s a tie between Captain America and Bruce Banner.”
He was exactly right. “How’d you know that?”
“Wild hunch.”
“Good instincts. Let’s see, if I read through both of these and sum it up, it sounds like you’ve got the excellent problem-solving scientific mind of Bruce Banner with the strong sense of duty like Captain America. It says here you’d be well-suited to a career that combines a fine diagnostic mind with a desire to help others.”
“It says that, does it?”
“It does.”
“And now that this quiz is done, are we about to have another totally random Wi-Fi outage?”
“No, but here’s the thing. I’m kind of hungry so I was thinking I’d make myself some avocado toast. Is it going to bug you if I eat while we’re hanging out?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, good.” Since he refused to take the bait on the scrubs and the tongue depressor, it was time to raise the stakes.
I reached for the syringe.
I’d already loaded it with guacamole, so when I held up a plate with a piece of toast on it and a syringe full of green paste, Jack looked even more confused than he probably would have by me holding up a giant syringe at all.
“I have a bad relationship with avocados,” I said.
“Okay…”
“They’re perfect for about two minutes. The rest of the time it goes hard, hard, hard, hard, two minutes of ripeness, mushy.”
“If you feel that way about avocados in California, imagine our pain in Oregon.”
“The thing is, if I were a Marvel superhero, I would probably be Iron Man because I came up with a brilliant invention to solve the problem.”
“You did?”
Yeah, I did. About four hours ago when I was trying to figure out how I’d work a syringe into our conversation. But all I said was, “Watch this. I think I need a patent.” And then I angled the camera so he could see me squish out enough guacamole to spread it around with the tongue depressor on the toast. I held up the syringe again, half empty now. “See? All this guac I didn’t use will stay in here, no air, not turning brown.”
Hmmm. Maybe I really did need a patent.
“I concede. Definitely genius.”
“Glad you can see that. Now for another quiz.”
“Oh good.”
“It almost sounds like you don’t mean that.”
