Lucien is still sporting an amused expression.
“But what if Iwouldlike to duck you?”
“You, sir, are offensive.”
“Yes, that was rather offensive, wasn’t it? I should apologize.”
“You should.” I nod, pushing my chin in the air. “It is very rude to call someone an animal, or a bird, or whatnot. I don’t know what type of company you keep, but this is unacceptable.”
“You…” he trails off.
I give him another glare.
“I hope the next words that come out of your mouth are an apology.”
He nods solemnly. “I do apologize for ducking you.”
“Good,” I huff aloud.
“As long as you allow me the possibility of doing that in the future,” he continues. “Duck you, I mean.” He smiles.
I frown. “I do not understand you.”
He releases a deep sigh. “Never mind. It was a joke.”
“I do not like these jokes of yours. I do not call you names, now do I?”
“I thought I heard you saynasty creature.”
“That was a generalization. I did not sayyou, Lucien, are a nasty creature. Whereas you said that I, Minerva, am an odd duck. See the difference?”
He takes a moment to consider my words.
“Odd duck is an idiom, Minerva. It means you are an odd person. I did not call you a duck of the fowl variety.”
“Oh,” I mutter. “Couldn’t you have said so from the beginning?”
“I could have.” He nods.
I frown again. I do not think we’re speaking the same language.
“Then you are an odd duck, too, Lucien.”
“Nowyou’reducking me?”
“Why not? You did it first,” I state in a haughty voice.
“So we’re ducking each other now?”
“Precisely. Do not think for a moment that just because I am female, I cannot best you.”
“Ah, Minerva.” He lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “You’re a gem, aren’t you?”
“Good on you to notice. Perhaps you do have good sight, after all,” I mutter.
He smiles and shrugs.
Leaning back onto his forearms, he tips his head back. He grabs something from his pocket and slips a white stick between his lips—a cigarette. I cannot understand why humans find this practice so appealing. The smell alone is obnoxious and foul.