Kainos

II. LOGEION

LOGEION ✧ A SPEAKING PLACE, A RAISED PLATFORM BEHIND THE ORCHESTRA.

CHAPTER TWO

Dinner with Morgan's family was usually a casual affair, but suddenly Amira's arrival had blown it up into something bigger. Morgan could feel the uncertain tension that was practically radiating from both her parents. Actually, she could hear them, and judging by Amira's widening eyes, she probably could too.

Morgan pointed at the door, where their voices were drifting in. "Sorry about them. Again. After, like, ten years in this house, they still haven't learned how far sound travels."

From outside, Morgan's mom said, "She said she was fine with American - but maybe we should find a fusion place just in case?"

"I think you're complicating things, Andrea," said her dad's deep tenor. Morgan's mom once told her that she had fallen in love with her dad's voice before she fell in love with him. He had a kind of voice that made you feel like he should be standing in a nightclub, crooning jazz songs. A human saxophone; deep velvet, running water.

Amira was still standing in the centre of her room, hands shoved uncomfortably into her pockets, shoulders hunched. Her eyes were cast into nothing until she noticed Morgan staring. "Uh. It's okay," she murmured.

Morgan regarded her unapologetically. "You can sit, you know." She patted the bedspread beside her.

"It's okay," she said again, almost automatically.

Morgan tilted her head. "You know you're here for three months, right? We're going to have to break the ice at some point. Might as well do it now. What are you worried about?"

"I - Everything," Amira blurted. "I mean, I don't belong anywhere here. I left everything behind to come here and I don't even think it was worth it. I'm going to be learning an entire new world, on top of everything else - I don't want to be that new, weird girl at school-"

Morgan placed a hand on her shoulder. Before she knew it, the girl was a crying mess, and they ended up holding each other on her carpet. She rubbed circles into her back.

"It's okay," she soothed. "It'll be fine, trust me. I got your back every step of the way. And I know you must miss your family..." Amira stiffened under her touch, but she kept going. "But honestly, once you adjust, three months will seem like nothing. Plus you can Skype your friends, right?"

Amira nodded. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry," Morgan said firmly. "You have nothing to apologize for. And - I don't think you should worry about people at school. What my mom said was true, we live in a pretty diverse neighbourhood - I mean, look at me, I'm not exactly white. I think white people are probably the minority at our school. You shouldn't have a problem with ignorance, but if you do...just ignore them. Or, you know, verbally kick their ass." She smiled, and Amira hesitantly returned it.

"Do you know where we're going for dinner?"

"Uh...we literally never eat out. Is there anywhere you want to go?"

She gave her a deer in the headlights look. "The only reason I want to eat American is because my friend said Arabic food here tastes like ass."

Morgan laughed softly. "I think you're probably the best judge of that. But you're right, play it safe. So. Are you going for fancy, casual, fast food..."

"Aren't your parents deciding, anyway?"

"I don't think they sound like they've decided," she snorted. "Don't worry. This is a regular occurrence. And also why we never eat out. How does Shake Shack sound?"