"But that kid might have had a chance if he'd--"
"Been born into a tolerant society," she finished for him. "But none of us are." It was times like this she was glad she was sterile.
"I know...still, I can't help but feel, since I did make a conscious choice--"
"Hold that thought," said Oriana. "It don't matter how you got to the weight you're at. Just like it don't matter how a homeless dude became homeless. At the end of the day, you should still give him a dollar." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"Thanks. You always make these things make sense." At last, he fixed himself a plate.
By the time she saw the waiter again, she had finished her wine, taken in small sips while she watched, rapt, as Eddie enjoyed his dinner. "Excuse me, Sir? Me and homegirl are prob'ly gonna want another bottle of wine."
"Miss Mitchell and her date have, uh...already left for the evening. She said something about...about 'leaving the lovebirds alone'. They covered the tab for the table, don't worry."
For a moment, Oriana panicked. She had been relying on Martika's social status to get them through the evening safe from unwanted comments and public scrutiny...but glancing around the room, she found that no one was looking at them. With the exception of the staff, every eye in the restaurant was glued to a phone screen.
"In that case…" She rotated the empty wine bottle by its neck. "Can I order this by the glass?"
"Yeah! I mean, certainly, Ma'am."
"Then open us a new tab. And could you swing by in a few minutes with a dessert menu, please?"
"Yea--cert--absolutely," said the waiter. The poor thing was running out of ways to say yes. He cleared some empty plates and hurried off, while Eddie helped himself to seconds.
"Wonder what's got everyone so distracted?" he mused. "Think they're all hooked on the latest installment of the Bombshell and Crucifix Show?"
"Maybe. Ooh, let's see if my old pal Fredo's had anything to say!"
Only, when she pulled her phone out of her bag to check the news, it wasn't she and Martika who'd made headlines.
"****."
"What is it?" asked Eddie.
"Trouble at Rivington," she read off her screen. "Hundreds of bodies of students recovered five miles outside campus after authorities discover university destroyed; bomb plot suspected; investigation underway. Hundreds, Eddie. And if they were found off campus...that means they were dead before the bombs went off."
"Isn't...isn't that the place you got expelled from?"
She wasn't religious anymore. But for this, she crossed herself.
"Been born into a tolerant society," she finished for him. "But none of us are." It was times like this she was glad she was sterile.
"I know...still, I can't help but feel, since I did make a conscious choice--"
"Hold that thought," said Oriana. "It don't matter how you got to the weight you're at. Just like it don't matter how a homeless dude became homeless. At the end of the day, you should still give him a dollar." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"Thanks. You always make these things make sense." At last, he fixed himself a plate.
By the time she saw the waiter again, she had finished her wine, taken in small sips while she watched, rapt, as Eddie enjoyed his dinner. "Excuse me, Sir? Me and homegirl are prob'ly gonna want another bottle of wine."
"Miss Mitchell and her date have, uh...already left for the evening. She said something about...about 'leaving the lovebirds alone'. They covered the tab for the table, don't worry."
For a moment, Oriana panicked. She had been relying on Martika's social status to get them through the evening safe from unwanted comments and public scrutiny...but glancing around the room, she found that no one was looking at them. With the exception of the staff, every eye in the restaurant was glued to a phone screen.
"In that case…" She rotated the empty wine bottle by its neck. "Can I order this by the glass?"
"Yeah! I mean, certainly, Ma'am."
"Then open us a new tab. And could you swing by in a few minutes with a dessert menu, please?"
"Yea--cert--absolutely," said the waiter. The poor thing was running out of ways to say yes. He cleared some empty plates and hurried off, while Eddie helped himself to seconds.
"Wonder what's got everyone so distracted?" he mused. "Think they're all hooked on the latest installment of the Bombshell and Crucifix Show?"
"Maybe. Ooh, let's see if my old pal Fredo's had anything to say!"
Only, when she pulled her phone out of her bag to check the news, it wasn't she and Martika who'd made headlines.
"****."
"What is it?" asked Eddie.
"Trouble at Rivington," she read off her screen. "Hundreds of bodies of students recovered five miles outside campus after authorities discover university destroyed; bomb plot suspected; investigation underway. Hundreds, Eddie. And if they were found off campus...that means they were dead before the bombs went off."
"Isn't...isn't that the place you got expelled from?"
She wasn't religious anymore. But for this, she crossed herself.