“Lamb, this time,” Leaf offered before pulling out his silverware. “Minced lamb.”

“It’s fantastic.”

“My father gets up every morning to cook before work—for him, for me. He doesn’t like to let food sit overnight. Leftovers aren’t—” He paused, looking for a word. “They aren’t something he’s comfortable with. Rom can be particular about food. I’m not as strict as my father, and he’s not as strict as my grandmother. She’d have never allowed me to eat food that had been sitting this long, but we break from some of her traditions.”

I’d noticed that he had a different approach to food than other people, but it wasn’t something I’d ever comment on because that was a culture that wasn’t mine and I didn’t like being rude. “It’s all delicious.”

“It is. He likes to cook with certain ingredients. Things that are powerful and make you strong. Big flavors.” Leaf motioned at his Tupperware. “To him, this is why I’m tall and wide. The foods he makes. I keep telling him the wide is from my sweet tooth, and then he sighs and tells me I’m just like my mother. He’s not wrong—she is half of me.”

“Speaking of sweet tooth, are you making the honey pastries tonight? With the almonds?” Erin’s eyes, lined again with her signature cat eye, swung my way. “They’re the best. Like, to-die-for best.”

“Raspberry instead of honey, I think. We have a fresh pint of berries from the market.” Leaf paused to look at me. “It’s like a baklava pastry, if you’ve ever had that? Layered pastry.”

Oh, I had, and as much as I enjoyed that cafeteria pizza served plank-style with plasticky cheese and watery tomato paste, I really wanted that raspberry baklava stuff in my face, pronto.

“I am down like a clown,” I said.

Leaf grinned at me over his food, his foot nudging mine under the table.

“Okay, clown. I’ll be happy to see you get down.”

Another wink and a slight curl of those plump lips as he ate his lunch.

...wait.

Was that dirty?

Six o’clock that night, I stood in Mormor’s driveway next to Devi’s black Ford Fiesta, a brown paper grocery bag full of two-liter bottles of soda and SunnyD because I was done with caffeine for the day.

“How do I look?” Devi asked with a delicate twirl. She wore a sundress with skinny straps and a sunflower print. Her toes were freshly painted. Her hair was covered by a soft gold cloth kerchief. There was makeup and hoop earrings and a pair of white Mary Jane shoes.

“Like a goddess. How do I look?” I asked.

“Like you’re wearing your pajamas and flip-flops.”

“Perfect!”