"I'm fine."
"You drank that in three seconds."
"I was thirsty."
He slid the plate across to me. Our fingers touched on the edge. The contact lasted maybe a quarter of a second and my whole arm lit up.
We ate in silence. The silence had a texture I'd never encountered before. Not awkward. Not empty. Loaded. The kind of quiet shared by two people who knew exactly what the other one sounded like with their walls down, and were now sitting across a kitchen counter pretending to be normal about it.
He looked up from his plate. I looked down at mine. I looked up. He was already looking. Our eyes met and held for two full seconds and I felt a blush start at the base of my neck and climb like a thermometer.
"Stop that," I said.
"Stop what."
"Looking at me like that."
"Like what."
"Like y
