6 The Duel
“What would you like, Brant?” Sylvia asked.
“Huh?”
“For breakfast?” Sylvia, the cafeteria manager, said. She stood behind the bar, digiscroll in hand. Sylvia had been old even when Brant was a child.
“Oh.” Brant shook his head again. He’d arrived at the cafeteria somehow. His feet really did run on automatic in this school. “Black coffee and… uh… what’s the special today?”
“Breakfast burritos.”
“Right, that. But not too spicy.”
“So you want it bland,” Sylvia smirked her dark lips at Brant. “Got it.”
“Bland? Really?”
But then his definition of spicy was different from Sylvia. Brant liked a mild burn on his tongue and tingle on his lips as much as the next person. But Sylvia could eat peppers that no water or fatty coconut milk could sooth. Not to mention the acid reflu
