Game Theory × NH

058 | cerium

× Horan

Electric Diner had the typical red bar stools and booths along with the black and white checkered flooring and the best chips in the world. Lynn stood out like a sore thumb in her silky dress, but I had given her a black jacket I had in the car to help.

"So, is this our thing?" Lynn asked as she grabbed a chip in the basket and took a bite. "Ditching fancy restaurants to go to some place better to eat?"

I laughed. The only difference between now and the recruit dinner was, well, a hell of a lot. That night I refused to give Lynn my jacket even though she was obviously cold, this time I willingly gave it to her without her even saying anything about it. Things surly had changed. I was still trying to figure out if it was for the better.

"Why did you call me Linda?" she asked.

"Isn't that your real name? Linda Mercury?"

Lynn giggled and it was a strange sound I found rather fascinating. It softened the room, as if the gentle sound could make the lamplight more golden and the fires burn warmer

"God, no."

"What is your real name then?" I asked. "It's not just Lynn, is it?"

Lynn chewed on a chip for a while, obviously stalling for time. A debate was going through her head if I was truly worthy to know her real name, I could tell.

"It's Lynnette," she finally said. "It means little lion in French."

"Lynnette Mercury..." I said slowly, tasting the name on my tongue.

"And my brother's name is Leander," Lynn continued. "It means lion man in Greek. My mom kind of had a thing for lions, if you couldn't tell."

I found it interesting that her parents actually took the time to connect their names together. My parents didn't even bother. My name means Champion in Irish where my brother's, Greg, meant watchful in Latin. Completely different. I couldn't even say we were named after relatives because I was pretty certain that we weren't.

"How come you don't talk about your parents?" I asked her.

I was afraid that I had pushed too hard from the dense silence that followed. The only time Lynn had ever mentioned her mum and dad was when she was talking about their unfortunate death. It felt wrong only knowing their downfall and not how Lynn thought about them when they were alive.

Lynn pulled the jacket closer around her body as she sat frozen across from me. "The reason I don't talk about them is because I'm afraid I'd be a burden to people," she finally confessed. When her eyes looked into mine, she continued. "You know, 'oh, she's talking about her dead parents, now I have to pretend to feel sorry for her'."

"You shouldn't feel bad for talking about your parents, Lynn," I told her. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

She took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes I do," she said sadly.

There was obviously something there I didn't know about, some secret she probably had been keeping from the world for a long time, but that was for a conversation for another time.

"Tell me something about them," I pressed. "You're favorite memory. A childhood tradition. Anything."

"I'm not-"