“You know you can get fired for messing around with dead bodies.” Geneva adds real-world consequences to the horror movie vibe.
He stands straighter. “I know.”
“Hey look, praying sounds well-intentioned,” I say, almost pleading with him. “You gotta give us something more, dude. I don’t think either of us want to see you fired, but I’ll have to write a report, and... “
He cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “Go ahead and write it. They won’t have to fire me. I’ll quit.”
“Aw, come on, man. That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s cool.” He pulls off his headband and a curtain of hair falls in front of his face.
Instead of hospital scrubs, Geneva’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that says SALTY in block print. Her expression has turned salty all right and she ignores mysay something helpfullook
“You really expect us to believe that you’ve been hanging out after work to pray over the dead bodies?” she asks.
Ezra flips the hair out of his face, lip curled in a sneer. “Yup.”
“Don’t... “ I say it quietly, not quite sure which of them I’m talking to. Both, probably.
Geneva shoots a glance in my direction. “You believe him?”
“Do I believe he was praying? Sure.”Do I believe that’s all he was doing? Not for a minute.
“You’re thinking with your junk,” she snaps, which honestly makes me laugh. My junk is the last thing on my mind right now.
“And you’re having some kind of military flashback, bitch,” Ezra snarls like he’s angry on my behalf. “I told you the truth. I pray over bodies sometimes. It’s a... family thing, and you’re interfering with my religious beliefs.”
He stumbles over the word family, a glitch I almost miss. Surprise will do that. He’s both come to my defense and claimed to have religious beliefs, and I never would have expected either. He’s also more confident than when we first caught him, and the mood in the room shifts.
God help us if we interfere with someone’s religion. HR sure won’t.
With a muttered “for fuck’s sake,” Geneva relaxes her arms and shakes out her hands. “Come on, man, you don’t have to quit. Just let me know the next time you need to stay late.”
“So you can supervise me?”
Jesus, Ezra. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from covering his mouth with my palm. He’s going to make more trouble for himself if he doesn’t shut up.
“Maybe I want to pray with you.” She leans forward, hands planted on her thighs. “Look, asshole, I’m here because I was worried about you. Don’t flip me any more shit or I’ll make sure you have to explain those precious family beliefs to Dr. Chen or someone from administration.”
“I never asked you to worry about me.” If he’s embarrassed about sounding like a teenager, it doesn’t show.
It occurs to me that I might have a better chance getting Ezra to talk about what really happened if I can get him on his own. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Nothing. Silence. “Guys? Hello? Let’s go. I want to lock up.”
For another heartbeat, I think neither of them is going to blink. Then Geneva huffs, “Did you really just call me a bitch?”
Ezra’s sneer softens into something closer to a grin. “If the labubu fits... “
They both laugh awkwardly and the tension fades. The runner got tagged, but I’m not sure which team recorded the out.
Geneva takes off, depriving us of a chance for a kumbaya moment. I don’t even have the chance to ask how she got my damned phone number. She must know somebody who knows somebody who knows me. Seattle’s really a small town in a big city costume. When Ezra moves to follow her, I catch him by the arm. “For a little dude, you sure can be spicy.”
He stares at my hand, maybe debating if he should bite it. “It’s my inner princess.” Shaking free, he sidesteps me, grabs a backpack that’s been sitting on the desk, and fishes inside.
He brings out—I squint—”Are those lollipops?”
“Yeah, want one?” He holds them up, his gaze considering. “The green one’s mine.”
I take the purple one he offers me, wondering if this night could get any weirder. The little blob of candy is wrapped in a white Dum-Dums label. “I haven’t had one of these since about third grade.”
