Fall 2013 issue

cool daikon and the tangy hoisin barbecue sauce.

After swallowing, Jay forced a cough and simultaneously murmured something that sounded like Kaylsey “’s quinoa-crusted ahi arrived on a curved and rippling platter, the seared tuna’s deep red providing an astounding contrast with the green bed of fresh wakame beneath it.”

They locked eyes for what Jay decided was the first time during the meal. Kaley pulled away to examine her plate, then resumed her staring contest with Jay. He blinked.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree, that’s a pretty good description…”

Jay’s shoulders relaxed and his lips parted as he basked in her approval. “Except my name’s Daisy.”

“Well. Uhh—” “You didn’t even know my name.” She didn’t raise her voice, but each word adopted an edge. “I know your name—Jay—but you couldn’t even take the time to learn my name. I mean, do you even want a relationship? Are you even trying?”

“Well. I’m here. Aren’t I?” He sat up and smelled the char wafting off his burger, tasted the meaty remnants of his last bite caught between his teeth. After reviewing the clues he concluded, not without uncertainty, “I am here.”

“Are you here, Jay? Because I wasn’t sure.” Her eyes were fixed to his. Jay had never considered how rapidly skim milk could freeze, should the temperature be cold enough.

“Yes,” he groaned.

“Because if you don’t want to be—” “Honestly? Right now? I’d probably prefer to be anywhere else.

Like, maybe Bermuda—we went once when I was twelve and the bartender put rum in my piña colada. But I’ve also heard the South Pacific is great.”

“Oh, I get it. Like you could even get service, understand what’s it’s like to be out, out there,” she pointed emphatically in no particular direction, “helping people who really need it.”

Jay turned and swept his eyes over the cramped dining room, his brief bout of interest dissipating as abruptly as it had surfaced.

After a second review, the poorly lit restaurant, peppered with maybe a handful of patrons, now seemed shabbier than its portrayal in the Zeke’s website gallery. It also emitted a soft, tired wheeze, like mudcaked bicycle tires deflating halfway through a trail, or a hot soufflé collapsing before it leaves the oven.

He observed the old man hoist himself out of his seat in slow 81