hate_gettin_older | [milliways: kidplot]

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milliways

[milliways: kidplot]

What the hell is this place?

Edgar's only sure of three things: (1) it isn't the Tail, therefore (2) he's not supposed to be here, and (3) he's going to be in the worst kind of trouble if a guard sees him. Or anyone who'll call a guard.

The thing is, he's not sure how this could be the Front either. But he's not sure how it could be anyplace else.

For the moment, he's got to try and get out of sight. Maybe under one of those tables.

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For some reason he can't grasp, watching the two Front kids scowl at each other makes him feel both meanly satisfied and increasingly uneasy. The unease is winning, compounded as it is by not having any clear idea where it's coming from.

"Ahh, never mind it," he says with an elaborate shrug, and reaches to pick up one of the little golden-yellow things they called fries. "No reason you can't be an alien princess if you want. They have these on Barsoom?"

"No, no they don't. I don't even know what they're called. Curtis?"

Edgar says it's okay for her to be a princess, Curtis. So you'll just have to deal with it. Hmmph.

Curtis makes a face at Edgar's comment. For a couple seconds, he resists the tempation, and then his resolve fails: he sticks his tongue out at Dejah.

He'll deal with it, but he doesn't gotta be happy about it. SO THERE.

"They're fries. French fries. They're made out of potatoes."

Edgar brightens a little at that. "I had a potato once. Couple years ago I think."

He takes a bite of one of the fries, and can't suppress a groan of enjoyment. These are so good.

Dejah has better manners than Curtis. She waits until Edgar's focused on the fries and then she sticks her tongue out at Curtis. (No, she doesn't want to kiss him! EW, brain, why would you even think that!?)

"What's a potato? Is that a plant?" Her voice is perfectly level and serene and she's not at all watching Curtis from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, they're these big lumpy brown things that grow underground. You can make potato chips with 'em too."

A beat.

"Why? Don't they have them on Barsoom?"

He makes a sound that's half giggle and half snort, and scoops up some more fries.

Maybe he could take some of these back to the Tail with him? If he ever figures out how to get back.

"No, no they don't. They don't have burgers either. Or whatever those are."

She points to the bowl of candy that no one's offered her a piece of yet.

And maybe lightly kicks Curtis with the very tip of her toe.

Curtis lets his head fall back and stares up at the underside of the table, as if to say, I'm surrounded by idiots.

But he has to be nice. They've never had candy. One of them's even homeless. At least he can fix that!

"It's candy and chocolate." He scoops up a few. "Here, this one's a Milky Way an' these are Skittles."

He lobs them at her. (Gently.)

"Can I have one of the chocolate ones?"

His stomach is starting to protest vaguely, but he ignores it. He's never had this much food at one time in his life.

Dejah doesn't get a hand up in time and gets whapped in the face with the candy.

"Hey! Careful. Here, Edgar, you can have mine."

She hands him the Milky Way bar and keeps the Skittles for herself.

And then sticks her tongue out at Curtis again.

This time, Curtis just grins at her, all innocence and light. He goes back to digging through the bowl, pulling out some candy for himself. Snickers, Three Musketeers, Mike & Ike --

Oh, hey. Look at that.

"And you can have this one," he says, cheerfully, as he hands Dejah a tiny wrapped chocolate labeled MARS BAR.

"Thank you." Dejah reads the label and her mouth falls open. She looks back at Curtis, dumbfounded.

"You have a chocolate bar named after a planet?"

"What?" demands Edgar, or tries to; it comes out as more like "Wrlgb?" because his mouth is full of heavenly sugary goo.

"Oh, yeah," says Curtis, casually. "'Course we do. They grow on Mars trees. Like the Skittles grow on Skittles trees."

Two can play at the totally absurd lies game, Dejah.

Whatever. She rolls her eyes. Jasoomian boys are dumb.

"You are a terrible liar," she says, clearly passing judgement. "Here, you see this?"

She shifts and drags her skirt up to show the scabs over her knees. It takes just a little scrape to make one of the tiny scratches well up. "Do you bleed blue?"

Edgar's eyes widen, and he stops chewing to get a long look.

And then swallows, with an effort.

"Huh."

(It doesn't occur to him to wonder why he isn't considerably more freaked out.)

"...Whoa."

Holy crap, Ralph's book was right all along.

For some reason, though, the fact that Dejah's bleeding -- even if it's not that much -- seems way more important than the color of her blood all of a sudden. Awkwardly, Curtis scoots a little closer, grabbing one of the napkins Bar gave him.

He holds it out to Dejah.

She was mad at him. She was. But sweet merciful mother, he's being sweet to her. BOYS ARE SO WEIRD.

She can't help the shy smile that rises as she takes the napkin. "Thank you." She presses it over the scab and holds it there. Magda Rin would think her manners so incredibly crude for such a display, but it seems to have put an end to the question.

"We don't have chocolate where I'm from. Or fries. Next time, I'll order a big bowl of pimalia berries and cream, so you can try that instead."

"Oh, well," and he makes a point of sounding as nonchalant about it as he possibly can, "that'll be a treat then, we haven't got those either."

Curtis nods, maybe a little more enthusiastically than he intends.

(His cheeks are going hot again.)

"Okay," he says. "And -- there's other Earth stuff I could show you. Uh, besides food. There's a big lake outside and I bet there's fish in there."

Or octopuses! That would be so cool.

She reaches out a hand to rest on Edgar's shoulder, giving him a soft smile. She'll absolutely do that then. Next time.

"A lake? Like -- a tiny ocean?"

Dejah's eyes go wide. She's read about such things but she's never actually seen one.

Edgar blinks. "Outside?"

"Yeah," says Curtis. He can't really point to the back door when they're under a table, but he sort of gestures toward it as best he can. "I saw it through the window. There's a big field, and a barn, an' a forest..."

Dejah's excitement falters. She looks at Edgar. And then she looks at Curtis and looks at Edgar.

"Is outside -- okay?"

She doesn't know what's going on with the smaller boy, but it seems like something momentous.

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