Page 36 of Love, Nemesis
“It’s easier that way,” Lethe replied glumly.
If some people could be called knives, Cal was a spoon—a teaspoon.
“You said that about the salad earlier and I believed you because eating it with a fork has always been hard, but I’m not sure about this.” Cal continued to stand there, glass in hand, as if he couldn’t pick up on Lethe’s resistance to the question.
Finally, Lethe rolled his eyes. “I don’t like forks…or spoons.”
“Just in general?” Cal chirped back.
“They make”—he rolled his wrists as if gesturing to something in front of him—space.”
“Space?”
“I like to experience my food, all right?” Lethe threw the explanation out, hoping Cal would leave it alone.
To his dismay, Cal continued, “You’ve also experienced a lot of other things today.”
Lethe raised an eyebrow.
Cal scanned the table. “Oh. You washed your hands. That’s a washcloth, right?” he asked, pointing to a rag near Lethe’s plate.
“And if it wasn’t?”
Cal eased down on the chair next to Lethe. “That would be very unsanitary.” He picked up the cloth as if to make sure it was a washcloth. “You know, you probably shouldn’t do things to get people’s attention here.”
Lethe looked over his shoulder at Cal. “I know. But I can’t help but touch the cake.” His eyes narrowed as he lowered his voice. “The soft, warm bread reminds me of the bodies of my victims from the war.”
The emotion drained from Cal’s face.
“The icing…you know, after blood sits long enough in the sun, you mix it with a bit of sugar and it gets just like that,” Lethe said darkly.
Cal searched his face desperately for a figment of falsehood. Lethe cracked a smile as if releasing him from some nightmare he’d stumbled into. Cal laughed nervously before looking away.
“Relax, kid,” Lethe said, lowering his voice. “Cooked down, you’d barely fit on a piece of toast.”
“I knew you were kidding,” Cal said, looking down at his drink as he moved the ice around in the glass.
“Did you?”
“Yeah…kind of. Manaj told me you’d try to mess with me.”
“Did he now? Did he send you a travel guide too?”
“No, but he guessed right when he said you’d likely catch up with me. He also told me that if I put up with you, then in return you’d do everything you could to keep me safe. Manaj said that’s how you work,” Cal explained as if reading from a guidebook.
“That’s how I work?” Lethe sighed, rubbing his face. “I’m going to kill that old man when I get back.”
“He said you like to feel like you’re always in control and on top of things, but it’s because you think you can do what’s good if you’re in control, so you’re a nice guy—a soft person on the inside.”
“He told you all of that?” Lethe growled. “What did the two of you do? Have a sharing circle?”
“I’m paraphrasing.” Cal shrugged. “I think some of his exact words were ‘narcissistic’ and ‘marshmallow.’”
“I think I’m going to dance,” Lethe said, setting his glass down on the table as he picked up his gloves and slipped them through his belt. “I’m done.”
“W—What? You? Dance? With who?”
“You should too. There’s no use in just waiting around,” he said before moving through the crowd. He slipped into the obscurity of the dancing bodies and evening light, navigating to the side of the woman’s table as she spoke to the man with her.
