Defy Me (Shatter Me #5)(58)

As soon as we take our seats, Kenji turns on me. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” he says.

“No.”

Kenji rolls his eyes. He rips open his little snack bag and doesn’t even inspect the contents before he tips the bag directly into his mouth. He closes his eyes as he chews. Makes little satisfied noises.

I manage to fight the impulse to cringe, but I can’t stop myself from saying— “You eat like a caveman.”

“No, I don’t,” he says angrily. And then, a moment later: “Do I?”

I hesitate, feeling his sudden wave of embarrassment. Of all the emotions I hate experiencing, secondhand embarrassment might be the worst. It hits me right in the gut. Makes me want to turn my skin inside out.

And it’s by far the easiest way to make me capitulate.

“No,” I say heavily. “You don’t eat like a caveman. That was unfair.”

Kenji glances at me. There’s too much hope in his eyes.

“I’ve just never seen anyone eat food with as much enthusiasm as you do.”

Kenji raises an eyebrow. “I’m not enthusiastic. I’m hungry.”

Carefully, I tear open my own package. Shake out a few bits of the fruit into my open hand.

They look like desiccated worms.

I return the fruit to the bag, dust off my hands, and offer my portion to Kenji.

“You sure?” he says, even as he takes it from me.

I nod.

He thanks me.

We both say nothing for a while.

“So,” Kenji says finally, still chewing. “You were going to propose to her. Wow.”

I exhale a long, heavy breath. “How you could have even known something like that?”

“Because I’m not deaf.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“It echoes in here.”

“It certainly does not echo in here.”

“Stop changing the subject,” he says, shaking more fruit into his mouth. “The point is, you were going to propose. Do you deny it?”

I look away, run a hand along the side of my neck, massaging the sore muscles. “I do not deny it,” I say.

“Then congratulations. And yes, I’d be happy to be your best man at the wedding.”

I look up, surprised. “I’ve no interest in addressing the latter part of what you just said, but— Why offer congratulations? I thought you were vehemently opposed to the idea.”

Kenji frowns. “What? I’m not opposed to the idea.”

“Then why were you so angry?”

“I thought you were stupid for doing it here,” he says. “Right now. I didn’t want you to do something you would regret. That you’d both regret.”

“Why would I regret proposing right now? This seems as good a time as any.”

Kenji laughs, but somehow manages to keep his mouth closed. He swallows another bite of food and says, “Don’t you want, to, like, I don’t know—buy her some roses? Light a candle? Maybe hand her a box of chocolates or someshit? Or, hell, uh, I don’t know—maybe you’d want to get her a ring first?”

“I don’t understand.”

“C’mon, bro— Have you never seen, like, a movie?”

“No.”

Kenji stares at me, dumbfounded. “You’re shitting me,” he says. “Please tell me you’re shitting me.”

I bristle. “I was never allowed to watch movies growing up, so I never picked up the habit, and after The Reestablishment took over, that sort of thing was outlawed anyway. Besides, I don’t enjoy sitting still in the dark for that long. And I don’t enjoy the emotional manipulations of cinema.”

Kenji brings his hands to his face, his eyes wide with something like horror. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Why would— I don’t understand why that’s strange. I was homeschooled. My father was very—”

“There are so many things about you that never made sense to me,” Kenji says, staring, flabbergasted, at the wall behind me. “Like, everything about you is weird, you know?”

“No,” I say sharply. “I don’t think I’m weird.”

“But now it all makes sense.” He shakes his head. “It all makes so much sense. Wow. Who knew.”

“What makes sense?”

Kenji doesn’t seem to hear me. Instead, he says, “Hey, is there anything else you’ve never done? Like—I don’t know, have you ever gone swimming? Or, like, blown out candles on a birthday cake?”

“Of course I’ve been swimming,” I say, irritated. “Swimming was an important part of my tactical training. But I’ve never—” I clear my throat. “No, I never had my own birthday cake.”

“Jesus.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey,” Kenji says suddenly. “Do you even know who Bruce Lee is?”

I hesitate.

There’s a challenge in his voice, but Kenji isn’t generating much more in the way of emotional cues, so I don’t understand the importance of the question. Finally, I say, “Bruce Lee was an actor. Though he’s also considered to be one of the greatest martial artists of our time. He founded a system of martial arts called jeet kune do, a type of Chinese kung fu that eschews patterns and form. His Chinese name is Lee Jun-fan.”