Upside Down(29)

“Oh hey,” he said, giving me a bright, lazy smile. “How was your bus dude?”

My bus dude. I smiled despite my mood. I’d told Angus about these stupid questions that Hennessy was going to ask me. “He was fine. I, on the other hand, was an idiot.”

He frowned at me. “Did he ask a maths question?”

I snorted. “No, his question was fine. I had to ask him one question in return and completely muffed it.”

Angus stared at me. “Did you ask him a maths question?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t explaining rhetorical questions or seventeenth-century English poetry to him. “Nah. No maths. Whatcha cooking? Smells great.”

He turned back to the stove and stirred a huge pot. “Oh. It’s a stew thing. My mum used to make it and just throw a bunch of stuff in it, like minced meat, veggies, and pasta. I rang her to make sure I got it right. It’s nearly done. Wanna grab two bowls?”

“Absolutely.” I felt better already. Something about Angus was comforting; he was like a brother. And considering my family and I weren’t close, it made me appreciate Angus all the more. Just easy going, well-meaning, and a joy to be around.

We sat in front of the TV, ate his delicious stew thing, and watched Family Feud. Angus nodded toward the television. “You should take notes. Ask him these questions.”

“Name something you’d find in a doctor’s waiting room?” I echoed the question of the game show. “Not sure it’s what I’m going for.”

He nodded and chewed his next mouthful thoughtfully before a slow grin spread across his face. “I know what you can ask him,” he said.

And I’ll be damned, but he had some great suggestions.





I waited for the bus with my stomach in knots. Merry shoved me onto it with a wish of good luck, and as soon as I saw Hennessy smiling at me, it all kind of fell away. He had a seat saved for me and I clutched my messenger bag and slid in beside him. “Hey,” he said, all smooth and charming.

“Hey.” I swallowed hard. “Can I just start by saying I’m sorry about yesterday’s question? I kind of panicked and made a mess of it. Oh, and thank you for the seat. I should have said that first, but I see you and my brain circuitry fries and I struggle with a filter on a good day.”

“Is it?”

“Is it what?”

“A good day?”

I nodded and tried not to smile but failed. “Uh yeah, it’s like a hundred per cent better now. Work was busy as hell today and we had a special community meeting for people who are learning or new to English, so I spent most of the day with them, helping and making sure they had all they needed.”

“You do that? At the library, I mean?”

“Oh sure. We run all kinds of outreach programs, including secondary languages and introductions and that kind of thing. I get a real kick out of it. I like helping people, and I can’t get myself into too much trouble. Although there was that time I tripped over someone’s chair and let out a motherfucker to end all motherfuckers and then spent the rest of the day trying to convince the whole class that it wasn’t appropriate when they all took it in turns to break it down into more manageable syllables in front of my boss.”

Hennessy laughed.

“I’m glad you think it was funny,” I said flatly. “My boss didn’t.”

He was still grinning. “So today’s question,” he said. “Are you ready?”

I nodded. “No, but yes.”

“It’s an easy one today,” he said. “Unlimited sushi for life or unlimited tacos?”

I gasped. “That is not easy. That is… well, that just might be an unanswerable question.”

He nodded toward the front of the bus. “My stop is coming up.”

“Argh! Oh, the pressure. Okay, I would say… sushi tacos.”

“Are sushi tacos a thing?”

“They are now.” I couldn’t help but grin. “But in all seriousness, I’d have to say tacos probably, because there are all different kinds, like beef, chicken, fish, even veggie tacos. Whereas sushi tends to be more limited. So if it was for life, I think I’d want the variety.”

He made a thoughtful face. “I’m not sure how to dissect that.”

“Dissect what?” Oh God. “What are you reading into that? Because the question wasn’t really about commitment and wanting the same thing over and over for the rest of ever, death till you part. It was about tacos. Wasn’t it? Like tacos… soft shell, hard shell, answering questions hell—”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it was about tacos.”

“Oh motherfucker. It totally wasn’t about tacos. But even if it was, having tacos forever is fine. There might be all different kinds of tacos, but the bottom line is, a taco is a freaking taco. And I would be committed to tacos because I have no issue with that kind of commitment. I’m a one taco at a time kind of guy. And I certainly don’t go looking at other tacos when I have one, if you know what I mean. And let’s be real, because of the whole asexual thing, it’s usually the taco I’m interested in that goes looking for other tacos.”

He chuckled and gave me a nudge with his shoulder. “Those kinds of tacos are all jerks.”