“What is it?” Max asked.
“It’s called balut. I’ve watched him eat it and I didn’t gag, and I’m pretty proud of myself for it—”
“What is it?”
“Jesus, Max, give her a second,” Aaron chimed in, his big hands resting on the table.
I squeezed my fingers between my thighs and just got it over with. “It’s a duck embryo in its shell.”
Four sets of eyeballs blinked. But it was Des that slowly asked, “Excuse me?”
“It’s a—”
“No, no, I heard you.” He cut me off, still taking his time with his words. He blinked, lowered his voice, and squinted his eyes. “How?”
“How what?”
“How do you…?” he stammered.
I knew what he was trying to ask and I cringed, regretting bringing this up. “The baby duck is boiled… alive.”
Four different people made dry-heaving and gagging sounds.
“And they eat that?” I’m pretty positive that was Brittany.
I nodded.
“I’m sweating thinking about it,” Brittany definitely whispered, visibly letting out a shudder.
“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I apologized.
Des’s face was definitely a little green. “You’ve eaten it?”
“She said she hasn’t,” Aaron said. “Your dad did, right?”
I nodded. “Nothing grosses him out food wise. I try to be as brave as he is, but I can’t.”
“Has one of your brothers or sisters tried it?” my friend asked.
That had me laughing out loud. “No way. That’s the only thing they aren’t willing to take risks with.” And trying new food was one of the only things I wasn’t too afraid to try.
“I’m never going to look at a duck the same way again…,” Des mumbled.
“Can I take my fingers off my ears now?” Mindy asked a little too loudly, her eyes sweeping around the table.
I smiled and nodded.
The younger girl looked around the circle and frowned as she lowered her hands. “I’m going to guess I should be happy I missed that conversation. You guys look like you’re going to be sick.”
Max made a coughing sound, turning in his chair. “Is it too late to change my order?”
It wasn’t.
We must have all been thinking about ducks and/or pretty waitresses that came by every few minutes to check on us more than any other table, because no one really spoke much after our food was dropped off. We ate silently, and every once in a while, I’d meet Aaron’s gaze as I chewed.
“I want to go check out some of the shops around here before they close. Text me when you’re ready to go,” Mindy said, pushing her chair back. “Anyone want to come?”
When no one immediately said anything, it made me feel bad, so I pointed at the food I still had left on my plate. “I’m going to finish eating, but I’ll go look for you when I’m done.”
She gave me a little smile and flicked her brother on the ear on her way out of the restaurant, apparently assuming he’d pay for her meal. That made me miss my own brothers and sisters.
“I’m going to get a beer. Any of you want anything?” Aaron asked a moment later, standing up. His hand squeezed my shoulder. “Ruby?”
“I’m fine,” I told him, perfectly okay with my glass of water.
He gave me a faint smile just as Max said, “Get me a beer. You know what I like.”
“Get me one too,” Des piped in.
Aaron snickered, releasing the hold on my shoulder. “I’m not buying either of you shit, come with me or give me cash.”
“So you can forget to give me my change? Nah,” came Max’s response as he pushed away from the table too. Des groaned but got up too, following his friends to the bar. I only watched him for a second before looking back down at my plate.
Brittany made a noise, her elbows on the table, as the three men walked away. “You know, I was at a friend’s house once, and her parents are Filipino. They had this crispy pork thing out that I thought was amazing—”
“Crispy pata?” I asked, grinning.
She nodded, dipping a french fry into a giant pile of ketchup she’d squirted on her plate. “I was eating the shit out of it until her mom told me it was knuckles. If I would’ve been anywhere else, I would’ve thrown up.”
“It is good, but yeah, it is a little gross when you think about it.”
She tipped her head to the side and looked at me. “You can’t really tell you’re Filipino, except for the shape of your eyes.” She blinked. “That sounds really racist. I’m sorry. Mindy’s been rubbing off on me this week.”
I snorted. “I get it. My mom has really red hair and she’s super pale. I got a weird mix of both of them. No one can ever tell what I am.”
“No shit?”
“It’s true. One of my sisters has red hair and the other one has black hair like our dad,” I told her, casually glancing at the bar where Max, Aaron, and Des had just headed.
My eyes froze there for a moment.
Leaning forward across the counter of the bar was the waitress, and she was smiling and laughing, talking to the three of them who were all smiling and laughing at her too.
Was that indigestion or…
No. That wasn’t indigestion making my upper chest feel tacky. It was me being jealous like crazy in the blink of an eye.
I had no right to be jealous. No right at all. Zero. Zilch. She was pretty and outgoing. She could do whatever she wanted.
Stop freaking looking, Ruby. You wouldn’t be looking if it was anyone else. Which was the truth.
I glanced back at Brittany, hoping she hadn’t noticed where my attention had been, even as everything north of my chest went hot. “Where’s your family from?” I got out, trying to distract her.
She lifted a shoulder. “My dad’s from Ethiopia. My mom’s Creole. They’ve been in Louisiana forever,” she explained.
“Was Des the one who moved to Shreveport in elementary school or was that Max?” I asked at the same time a cute laugh from the direction of the bar reached my ears. I tried, I tried my hardest not to look at the bar again.
I failed.
I peeked, just out of the corner of my eye.
Aaron was still laughing at something the waitress was saying. That handsome face had a pleasant, easy expression on it, his body language was forward… and he wasn’t looking at her the way he looked at me. Affectionately. Or like a puppy. He was just… looking.
I’m not sure why that made me want to throw up, but it did. Realistically, I should have been happy he didn’t give everyone the faces he gave me. And it wasn’t like he was taking her in like he was interested either. I’d witnessed that face enough in person to recognize it for what it was.
He was just looking at her. And it still felt like a knife blade into my belly. Because I knew what it meant, what it reminded me of.
One day, regardless of what he said about relationships and marriage, he was going to have another girlfriend. It could be a month from now, it could be a year from now, but it was going to happen.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
He wasn’t my boyfriend or my lover, and I needed to be grateful I even had that much, I told myself as I squeezed my hands into fists beneath the table. He was my friend who cared about me. He was a man who didn’t want to get married. He was a man who only wanted to share part of himself with me. I had no business looking or caring. None.
And yet….
“Des is the one who’s known him his whole life. Max moved to Shreveport when they were in high school,” Brittany explained, her words helping me focus on her and not anyone or anything else.
I nodded, swallowing down a ball of what I wasn’t going to consider being agony. “That’s cool.”