Janet and Jason - "Are you drunk?"
“Fun fact,” Janet said in pleasant voice, “I can’t get drunk.”
Jason’s face didn’t quite fall, though the light in his eyes dimmed slightly—for a second. This was, after all, Jason Mendoza. He bobbed his head and put his hand on the chest of his monk robes, fingers spread. “Dope. In Jacksonville I was the beer-man for my sixty-person dance squad, but our sneaker-man spent all our suds money on Blake Bortles limited edition sneaks, and that party was seriously a bummer until I talked to this guy Left Foot Sal behind the 7-11 on Third and he gave us like twelve cases of Pabst Blue Ribbon that he said he was going to have to get rid of anyway. I just had to carry some, like, this really heavy bag for him over out of that weird strip club on Forty-First. But it was worth it, and we showed up with our Bortles and our PBR was voted Best Brew of the Night in the blind taste test.” He paused. “I still don’t know why Sal wanted me to throw that bag in the river, though.”
“Perhaps it needed cleaning,” Janet offered. She looked about at Tahani and Chidi, who were gaping open-mouthed at the fake monk, and Eleanor, who had her fingers pressed to her forehead, hand covering her eyes. When nobody else gave any suggestions, she aimed a smile at Jason.
“I’m sure that’s it,” Jason said, bobbing his head again.
“Why did you ask if I’m drunk?” Janet asked.
Jason shrugged and looked down a little bashfully. “Because I’m a little drunk and I didn’t want to be the only one?”
Janet wondered why her earlobes felt slightly warmer than average. She dismissed the query from her mind.
“But that’s okay,” Jason said, perking up. “You can still keep me company.”
“I’d like that,” Janet said. “Frozen yogurt?”
And they walked off, leaving Chidi and Tahani still speechless. Eleanor’s shoulders were shaking, Janet noted, but she had no idea if her charge was laughing or crying. That could be a problem for another time.
