“Want some?" he asks, pointing to his dinner.
Maybe eating will calm my nerves. "What is it?"
"Enchiladas. Mi'ama makes kick-ass enchiladas." He stabs a small portion with a fork and holds it out to me. "If you're not used to this kind of spicy food--"
"I love spicy," I interrupt, taking it into my mouth. I start chewing, enjoying the blend of flavors. But when I swallow, my tongue slowly catches on fire. Somewhere behind all the fire there's flavor, but the flames are in the way.
"Hot," is all I can say as I attempt to swallow.
"I told you." Alex holds out the cup he'd been drinking from. "Here, drink. Milk usually does the trick, but I only have water."
I grab the cup. The liquid cools my tongue, but when I finish the water it's as if someone stokes it again. "Water . . . ," I say.
He fills another cup. "Here, drink more, though I don't think it'll help much. It'll subside soon."
Instead of drinking it this time, I stick my tongue in the cold liquid and keep it there. Ahhh . . .
"You okay?"
"To I wook otay?" I ask.
"With your tongue in the water like that, actually, it's erotic. Want another bite?" he asks mischievously, acting like the Alex I know.
"Mo mank ooh.”