Twenty Seven

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[Vanilla]



To be a great conversationalist was to acquire the skill of tact; and while Leroy Cox was certainly no professional, many including myself would find him lacking in this area. For Chen to have been able to take Leroy's words in his stride was a near indication of him possessing a similar level of skill, in which I was left in the dust as the pair continued to hurl comments of passive-aggression under the guise of a conversation, grabbing at every available opportunity to take jabs at one another.

While I'd remained mostly confused at the abrupt topic of birthdays and slightly irked by our drifting focus, the oven dish of mac and cheese had kept me decently distracted and a further thirty minutes of stifling remarks finally saw an opening for me to bring this all to a stop.

"So I'm glad to see that you two are getting along perfectly on the topic of next Monday's schedule and all but," I wiped my mouth with a napkin and sipped at the iced chamomile tea Leroy had made me. "We've barely had the chance to speak about SOY or the judging and it's nearly time for someone to actually start his shift since, well, he can't possibly be paid to talk to customers about their birthdays when peak hour's about to start."

The odd tension between 'I'll-bake-you-a-cake' Chen and 'No-thank-you' Leroy Cox dissipated at once and both turned towards me with a pause. I casually pointed out the short queue that had formed at the counter and the staff behind it, who were staring daggers at the skiving member.

He'd cursed under his breath and cleared up the table at once, taking the empty oven dish and Chen's coffee cup before disappearing into the back. We watched him go.

"You sure you don't want a cake?"

I looked at Chen, blinking twice. "It's very nice of you but I can't imagine having an entire cake to myself when, in the first place, I have no one to share it with and not to mention the non-existent party you seemed to have assumed would exist."

"We could share a six-inch," he offered, laughing. "I thought of making you an opera."

"Oh no," I forced a smile, holding up both my hands to make a point. "An opera's amazingly extravagant and we both know how hard it is to master that sort of technique and um, no, really. I don't need a cake."

"I'll compromise on a tart," Chen laid out with a grin and at the rate this was going, I figured this was as far as I was going to get. "I'm already late for an interview and I'm not leaving until you say yes."

"Yes."

I provided the necessary means for him to leave and signed my soul to a tart that practically speaking, wouldn't be too hard to finish and wasn't the biggest of favours to return. A cake would have been borderline dangerous.

The smile he broke into was like a blinding beam and he picked up his duffel bag before reaching across the table for my hair once again. "Good. I'll see you soon." His gaze on me lasted throughout him wrapping a scarf around his neck, pushing in his chair and leaving the ice cream parlour, not before turning back with a friendly wave.

I delivered one in return, unsure if I was doing this correctly or if bidding an acquaintance farewell meant physical contact. Si Yin was no acquaintance. Well at least I hope to her, we weren't. Still, we don't go around hugging or kissing each other goodbye and while it could be attributed to her being Asian, I wouldn't necessarily peg her as being brought up with those values and at the same time, I never did know how she was brought up or who—

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