Skylar leaned against the counter, watching John cut the carrots into little disks. The knife made a rhythmic beat against the cutting board. His voice matched up with the beat, adding in bits of knowledge, facts around his family. Busy as he was, Skylar could hear the tension in his voice.
“If someone in my family says something you don’t understand, but people are laughing, assume it is a joke and laugh along.”
“Because if you act too confused, or ask too many questions, especially about things you should probably know but don’t because you haven't’ actually been here that long, it will only look weird to my parents.”
“You always jump to the worst possible outcome.” Skylar muttered.
“Don’t use Emily’s lines against me.” John pointed his knife at them while he grabbed a carrot. “I hear it enough from her.” He went back to cutting.
“I’m going to be fine. I can access your internet without anyone being the wiser!” Skylar lifted their arms, their shirt rising up. The cold edge of the counter chilled the part of their belly newly exposed to the counter’s edge.
“You always blink super fast when doing that. And you look weird.” John sighed. “Sometimes, you kind of half squint for a while and you just look constipated.”
“Then it gives your family an opportunity to joke.” Skylar smirked. “And your family sure does love to gleek.”
“You really got to stop using the weirdest words you can find.” John sighed. “The last time I heard that word Emily called Hannah a gleek for quoting the old TV show.”
“Well, why do almost all of your words have like eight meanings?”
“I don’t know.” John picked up the cutting board with the carrots still on it. “But you have to be careful.” The carrots hit the hot oil in the pan and started sizzling. “I don’t want to end up in a War of the World’s situation.”
“Qwortarians are made to blend in.” Skylar waved. “If I’m careful enough I could hide here for years.”
“Not if you weird out my parents.”
“Maybe you should be worried about weirding out your parents.” Skylar grumbled.
“Just help me finish cooking so they start out in a good mood.” John tossed Skylar a box of spaghetti.
“All right all right Mr. Worrywort.” Skylar was a little disappointed all John did was roll his eyes.
Word count: 401