The market street had not grown quieter as Alvin and Xavier lingered. If anything, people seemed more awake now, drawn by the mild warmth of the late morning and the rare sense of safety that allowed laughter to exist without guilt.
Alvin was halfway through explaining why the fruit juice was an insult to beverages when a loud, dramatic voice cut through the plaza.
"I told you already, it was not cheating."
Alvin stopped mid sentence.
Xavier lifted his head slowly. "That," he said, "sounds promising."
They turned toward the source.
A man stood in the middle of the open square, arms flailing wildly. He was tall, broad shouldered, and extremely confident for someone currently being glared at by a furious woman holding a wooden ladle.
"You slept with her," the woman snapped. "That is the definition."
The man scoffed. "I slept. She happened to be there."
Alvin choked on his drink.
Xavier covered his mouth, shoulders shaking.
