“In other words, put him in prison. Because you decide to. And for as long as you decide to keep him there,” Astrid said. “For a guy who never wanted to be in charge, you’re awfully willing to be a dictator.”
Sam sighed. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I don’t want to fight.”
“So, how is the little girl from last night?” Astrid asked, changing the subject.
“Mary was taking care of her.” He hesitated. Looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was within range to overhear. “Mary asked her to sing. She says it’s like the world stops when she sings. Like no one talks, no one moves, the whole preschool just practically froze. Mary says it’s like an angel is singing. Just to you.”
“An angel?” Astrid said skeptically.
“Hey, I thought you believed in angels.”
“I do. I just don’t think this little girl is one.” She sighed. “More like a siren.”
Sam stared blankly at her.
“No,” Astrid said. “Not like a police car siren. Like Odysseus. Ulysses. The sirens. The ones who when they sang no man could resist them?”
“I knew that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I did. They did a parody on The Simpsons.”
Astrid sighed. “Why am I with you?”
“Because I’m incredibly attractive?”
“You are mildly attractive, actually,” Astrid teased.
“So, I’m a kind of really hot dictator?”
“I don’t recall saying ‘really hot.’”
Sam smiled. “You didn’t have to. It’s in your eyes.”
They kissed. Not a big passionate kiss, but nice like it was always nice. Someone hooted derisively. Someone else yelled, “Get a room.”
Sam and Astrid ignored all that. They were both aware that they were the “first couple” of the FAYZ, and their relationship was a sign of stability to kids. Like seeing Mom and Dad kissing: kind of gross, but kind of reassuring.
“So what are we going to do with the Siren now?” Astrid asked. “She’s too old to stay with Mary.”
“Orsay took her in,” Sam said. He waited to see whether the mention of Orsay would get a reaction from Astrid. No. Astrid didn’t know what Orsay was up to.
“Excuse me. Sam?”
He turned around to find Francis. Not the best time to be interrupted, not when he was trying to discuss his attractiveness with Astrid.
“What’s up, Francis?”
Francis shrugged. He looked confused and awkward. He stuck out his hand. Sam hesitated; then, feeling slightly ridiculous, he shook Francis’s hand.
“I felt like I had to say thanks,” Francis said.
“Oh. Oh, um…cool.”
“And don’t take it like it’s your fault, okay?” Francis said. “And don’t be mad at me. I tried…”
“What are you talking about?”