we’re a fucked-up guy and disaster-magnet girl ready to take on a country with more sheep than people.” He nods decisively. “Yeah, we got this.”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “Thanks for telling me, though. It’s nice to get to know you better, even under the circumstances.”
As I’m about to stand, a gust of wind blows down the street, on it the unmistakable smell of rotting eggs. Not the passing-wind variety. The kind of stink that simmers in filth until it’s a thick, bubbling mess. The kind that coats every follicle in your nose. My knees slam together, my arms pulled to my sides. “Osmophobia,” I squeak, my eyes darting wildly.
He looks at me like I sprouted that third head. “Osmo-what? Are you some weird medium, like those people who can speak unknown languages with ghosts?” He glances around nervously. “Is there…” He drops his voice. “Is there one behind me now?”
I elbow him in the arm. “No. It’s just, I have this thing.” Here I go getting stranger by the second, Pininfarina back to claim her rightful throne. For four hours I was halfway normal. Now it’s a resounding, not.
“Thing? You have a thing? Like what kind of thing are we talking here?” He leans forward to catch my eyes. I glance away sharply while twitching my nose to shake that god-awful stench still lingering in the air. He takes that as his cue to keep needling me. “If by ‘thing’ you mean you play word games in your head and shout out random syllables, I can live with that. You know, still travel with you. But if your eyes roll in your head while you chant out psychobabble, we might have to cut our ties.”
“Honestly, Sam. You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous? Which one of us is shouting out random verbiage?” When I groan and roll my eyes, he shakes his head. “Okay, fine. I can handle the silent treatment. But riddle me this, Canada. How is it you were able to spend four hours with me confessing all sorts of hilarious, yet embarrassing, shit about your family, but you shut down when asked a simple question? So let’s try this again. What’s with the word choice?”
“You’re relentless.” I try to dirty-look him, but I’m pretty sure I’m making my angry-old-lady face. “Fine, just promise you won’t laugh.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“No, as in I can’t promise not to laugh.”
“Seriously? Why would I tell you now?”
“Because what I said before still stands. I’ll never laugh at you, but if the occasion calls for it, I’ll laugh with you. So, like I said, no promises.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He scoots an inch closer, his elbow pressed to my arm. “We’re not leaving this spot until you open that pretty mouth of yours and give me the dirt on your thing.”
This guy has already witnessed three I-can’t-be-from-this-planet incidents, and he knows about my family’s uniqueness. Why not add another quirk to my growing pile of peculiarities? Why quit while I’m ahead? “Okay. Fine.” I groan as I press the heels of my hands into the cement curb. I really am a total freak. “I have this thing,” I say and pause, digging my palms harder into the curb, “where, like, I don’t know…I kind of list my phobias. Like the ones that prevent me from acting normal.”
He dislodges a tube of mints from his front pocket, pops one in his mouth, and tilts the pack toward me. I shake my head, still pressing my hands into the sharp little rocks on the curb until they’re embedded in my skin. He rolls his mint around and finally says, “So this is your thing?”
“God, yes. It’s my thing.”
The mint clinks against his teeth a couple of times as he sucks on it. “Do you have an actual list? Is it written somewhere? Can I read it?” When I growl and knock him over on his side, he laughs and rights himself. “I’m fucking with you, Nina. Let’s back up to the actual phobia you blurted out. What’s osmophobia?”
This keeps getting better. First I have to confess to my lame list of phobias, now we get to dissect them. I could jump up and leave, thanking him for the ride and wishing him safe travels, but this is the guy who chased me to Waipu to make sure I was okay. The same one who knew just what to say to ease my embarrassment about the Hot Soup Incident. The one who shared with