Page 28 of Dealing With Drak

Sighing, I tilt my head at it. How does one even explain a slushie to an alien?

“It makes drinks that are sort of liquid, sort of solid. Like if you poured a fruity juice over snow. They’re called slushies, or Slurpees.”

Not a bad explanation, actually. Good job, Anna.

He scratches his chin, humming while he considers my description. “Hmm, do you like these slush-ees?”

I pop a shoulder up in a shrug. “They’re good, not really my drink of choice.”

Interest peaked, he grins. “Which drink do you choose?”

Deciding to see if they even have it, I move to the half-broken refrigerators. Surprised to see they haven’t been entirely raided, my gaze scans the shelves.

Finding a few green cans, I can’t help the little smile that lifts the corner of my mouth. Reaching through the broken glass, I pick one up, inspecting the bottom for an expiration date. It’s only a few months past its date, and soda is technically non-perishable. It just doesn’t taste as great after too long.

Cracking open the can, with a swift snap, I pass it over to Drak.

“This is my favorite.”

The can looks smaller in his hand as he carefully lifts it to his face. Sniffing it cautiously, his eyes widen at the unfamiliar smell.

“This is a beverage?” he asks doubtfully. “It is sizzling, like acid.”

Smothering a laugh, I shake my head. “It’s not acid, it’s carbonation. It’s just air bubbles.”

“Are you sure you’re not attempting to poison me, An-nana?” he teases.

“If I were going to poison you, it would probably fail,” I reply bitterly. “Aprixians seem to be unreasonably difficult to kill.”

He chuckles, finding my scorn amusing. “I shall try your drink, but it smells offensive.”

Huffing at his dramatics, I roll my eyes. “It’s just ginger ale. Human kids drink this when they have stomach aches, Drak. I’m sure you can handle it.”

Tentatively, he takes a small sip. Surprise lights up his face, and he swallows. “It is much less horrible than the hu-nim red drink.”

Wine. He means wine.

“Well, there’s no alcohol in this.”

“But it is your favorite?”

Shrugging, I nod in response.

Ginger ale as your favorite drink is probably pretty weird for a lot of people, but to me it’s no different than the Diet Coke or Dr. Pepper obsessions that some people have.

“My brother, Caleb, he’d give me a can of this whenever I wasn’t feeling great. So I guess I got attached to it.”

Whoa. Did I just willingly disclose that?

To Drak?

I guess we kind of are friends. Huh. When did that happen?

Before Drak can say something sweet, I turn back to the fridges, snagging a blue bottle. I unscrew it, making sure that the cap was sealed and pass it to him as well.

“This is my favorite without bubbles,” I inform him, taking the ginger ale back. “It’s what people drink when they’re being very active. It’s healthy, sort of.”

He sniffs this one, too, before taking a cautious gulp.

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