He gave her permission to remain there once again, as if she were to ask people what they wanted. Chase could be that kind of person, but she was not like him. She took what she wanted, when she wanted. So even if the young mutant were to put a grumble, she would sit there anyway. Although maybe, that was his way of dealing with the situation. Perhaps to give permission to her made him felt more in control of everything. With that statement the child seemed to raising a huge magic wall around them, and yet it was as if he were warning her that the invitation could be revoke at any time. So the girl tried to share something with him. To be honest with the boy, but she to confess something that could interested him. For that, she began to search in her memory surfing all her experiences with that game. Immediately she discovered each piece of the puzzle. And there were many. "I hate the Zs, the rest of the pieces are easier to locate but these always give me problems." While the last word still hung in the air, she tried to remember other situation in which the Tetras was a part of her life, or something funny to say related to the game, but she found no other similar memory. She just remembered how the Zs and its mirrored counterpart always gave her a lot of problems.

Although it bothered her a lot that the young boy believed he could tell her if she could stayed or not, she decided to leave aside that little battle. It was a mere skirmish that she could pretend to have lost, if that made the child feel more comfortable. She left aside the pride and let the child have the last word.
After all, the war was more important than a battle, and if she let him win at something, perhaps he would felt he had to give up something else too. So the beautiful girl, tried another move quickly, using her velvety voice as bait. "It's hot and I did not eat anything since breakfast." Perhaps that would create some sympathy in the child, maybe not. But at least she had to try.

Her new nickname made her smile. She had been called 3-line and now Tetris. Maybe her next nickname would be the name of the creator of the game as it seemed she was going up a invisible ladder. Piece to game. Game to human. Human to God? If the string of nicknames continue that way the child would soon be under her control. Still, she did not let her surprise show in her voice. "I'm not pushing you, notepad." Because he seemed to be a big living notepad. Since he was always gathering data. Taking notes. "If you like what they bring, take it." The girl said with great satisfaction. So was her life. If she liked something, she took it.

He turned his head slightly to look at her, but since it was michael, the glance was only for a moment. Michael closed his eyes tightly afterward, and then opened them again. He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. Of course no one really liked the “Z’s” she referred to, but that was just something that people dealt with. He nodded though, understanding the means of continuing a conversation. Scratching his head, Michael thought of the proper response. “Th...the pieces that..that you call the Z’s are the worst but if you have the other Z’s they go together.”

Then she went on to keep a pause of silence between them, which Michael allowed, keeping the situation under what he wanted. The little boy leaned his head back against the tree to just rest his eyes. He wasn’t very good at keeping awake and keeping physically able for everything outside. Having been stuck inside of his room most of his life, his body wasn’t yet adapted to the situation of being outside and doing things all day. It was a wonder he didn’t sleep every time he went outside. Michael also was in the shade..because his skin burned almost immediately with sun contact now.

“I...I don’t normally eat breakfast. Or...I didn’t until people here made me. They said I’m skinny and small...so...so I have to eat more than other people. But I don’t like eating anymore.” He mumbled a bit to himself, and then fiddled with the gloves on his hands. Michael bit on his lip, wondering why everyone seemed to think breakfast was important. You only really needed one meal a day to survive and keep living, right? That was what his father had told him, in any case. “But...but you can have food if you want. It’s okay...”

Michael watched her for a moment, not looking her in the eye. It seemed that maybe she was comfortable, but maybe she was not. He didn’t really know, because he had a hard time telling whether or not someone even liked the conversation. When she called him a different name, Michael seemed a bit shocked. Notepad? Why was he a notepad? What possible realistic thought would lead to him being a notepad. He was the thing that used the notepad. If anything, he was just a brain. She didn’t really seem to understand nicknames. He shook his head slightly, and it seemed like a small corner of his mouth turned up. A smile? Was that really what he was doing? Smiling? “You’re slow..” He still kept that bit of a smile, ignoring what she said last.

Of course she was not slow, her employees in change of the snacks were slow enough to make her angry.
Despite their irritating slowness, she managed to see how her guards passed the small pedestrian gate in the fence, that she had left open, and headed towards them. Peter carried two bags, with many small colored metallic bags inside. Probably the snacks she had requested.
And Max, her other bodyguard, carried a smaller bag with two bottles of smoked glass with small crystals embedded in it. Bling H20. Her favorite water, and more expensive than all the other things they carried.
Although she was eager to start eating before her stomach will start growling in a way inappropriate for a lady, she feared that the presence of her two bodyguards could frighten the child somehow, since he did not seem very brave or very social... well actually he did not seem good at anything, except for those puzzles and notes filled with a logic that she could not decipher it completely.

Celeste, who was looking in their direction, motioned for silence so they started to walk more slowly. She did not want to scare the little mutant now they had managed to start several small conversations.
In absolute silence, her two employees put a tablecloth on the floor as a makeshift table and there they deposited all the bags of snacks, and two bottles of cold water. One nearby her, and the other near him. Not so close, but in his general direction for him to take it without feeling uncomfortable.
The snacks created a beautiful rainbow of colors and shapes, metallic surfaces that stole small flashes when sun rays hit them through the leaves of the tree. All top brands were present, and even some rare and strange. Everything from her limousine that was equipped with enough things to have a party.

As quietly as they arrived, her bodyguards disappeared, leaving them alone together again. While the girl opened some potatoes chips, she tried to resume the course of the conversation again by asking a question about his claims about breakfast. "Why do not you like breakfast?" Asked the girl, as she checked what the boy had said. In fact, he seemed to be too skinny. His height was much more difficult to analyze because they were not standing, but it seemed normal. "Our cook makes different things every day. I never get bored." She could never really get bored of breakfast or any meal, all were equally important, and her cook knew so many recipes that one dish was never repeated during the week.

While waiting for the response from the nameless boy, she began to eat some potatoes that creaked when she chewed.

He took a glance towards Celeste again as she got her food. She was talking to him more about his reasons for not liking breakfast. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t like it, he didn’t know what to do with it. For a while, that had been such a meaningless thing. Breakfast meant eating the morning. Before he came to the school, he’d only been eating at night, and that was when he got a few snacks. That of course was his dinner time. So breakfast and lunch were both really just the same in his book. “Breakfast…isn’t even that different from lunch because they’re both during…the times that I don’t try and eat.”

Yes, eating was something that he had to attempt. He couldn’t just get food. He had to make an effort to really make himself eat at other times since he’d gotten in a slight routine. The routine of course was supposed to change here, but he was still tentatively getting used to it. Although, it was definitely true that Michael had gained more weight since he’d been at the school. He was no longer completely malnourished, and he could probably stand without getting knocked over by a gust of wind and all.

“At my house, daddy only…fed me once during the day sometimes. Other times he forgot. It was never in the morning because…because the morning is time to get ready for work and everything.” He was attempting to explain himself logically so that Tetris would understand. He did appreciate that Tetris was logical, even if he would never call her by the name of the game creator. She was logical, but she still wasn’t as good at puzzles as the maker of the game probably. Still, the fact that she was actually logical made Michael’s whole situation a lot easier, because she’d obviously understand where he was coming from.

“Daddy never cooked things for me or my mom. He made her do it or got pizzas for them. Sometimes I got pizza too…like if it was a good day, but I got chips and things a lot. I had my own bathroom to make my own water in, though.” He also tried to brag by saying he had his own bathroom. He hadn’t really cared enough to dig into her life and think that a rich girl like her probably has her own bathroom as well. Michael didn’t really want to delve into those matters at the moment either, so he looked at the selection of foods.

He took a glance at Tetris, and then got a bag of chips from the assortment. However, he was conflicted. Chips were meant for evening dinner. So why would he think of eating them now? Would it be okay to just put them in his bag? He hadn’t taken something from anyone else before…so that would be interesting. Figuring out what’s right to do when someone wants you to take something, but you don’t know how to take it for later. He took a quick glance up at her face after one crunch of a chip in her mouth, then back down to his hands, still holding those chips.

Although the bags of snacks made too much noise while she introduced her hand to take that glorious food, she was happy since she did not have to worry anymore about her stomach to start digesting itself in protest. So she could relax even more. It was almost like a little picnic. Those rare events she had not much time to enjoy.
A couple of snacks later, the boy replied, and the girl listen carefully while taking her refreshing purified water.
"Well, there's even a meal called brunch that mixes breakfast with lunch." Commented the girl still trying to understand the meaning of his words. It was rare that someone would live with so less food.

While trying to find a logical solution to the problem of the food, the boy gave her a possible solution almost without realizing it. Maybe they were just so poor they did not have enough money to eat all the foods that people gave for granted. Even when she always tried to get away from people and not get involved with them, the child's imaginary story moved her enough to become more interested in him. "While your parents were working, do you stayed at home alone?" asked girl in astonished. She knew it was a uncomfortable question that the child will probably hate so she quickly hasten to add another question. "What is your favorite food?" For the rush the question was not very good. But her mind was clouded for the child´s pain. Maybe she could kidnap him to some fancy restaurant where they could eat his favorite food.

Silently she watched as the boy stared at the bags of snacks as if they were rare treasures. He even dared to take one in his hands and quietly continued his research. What were he looking for? She could not know, but the boy looked at the bag as if to ask them something. Not to her, to the bag. Then he looked at her, silently asking a question she could not understand and did not know how to respond, so she just limited herself to smile. A beautiful and friendly smile that perhaps Notepad could translate into the answer he needed. Whatever it was.

He couldn’t really believe that there were so many opportunities for people to eat food. Brunch…brunch was probably just a made up thing for rich people. But she seemed to be rather rich, considering the golden hair stuff, and the fact that she was eating and drinking food without saving anything for later. However, Michael put the bag of chips in his little fanny pack he was carrying around, just to be sure that he would have food when he needed it. He then looked towards the water, eyeing it before he slowly allowed himself to form his hand around it.

“Th…that’s not for people who are like me. Other people eat food when they want to…a-and I eat food when I need to.” Michael was pretty sure that the characterization was sound. Otherwise, why would people eat so much? They just probably wanted to eat it at that time. So, it was only right that he call her out on it. Michael took a small sip of the water. It was cold…and tasted rather nice.

Then she must have decided to ask another question on the spur of the moment, and it kind of threw Michael for a loop. Sure it was a question that he knew the answer to, but how much did he want Tetris to know? Truly people always misunderstood his father’s abuse as being just his father’s fault. It was the both of them that caused such a thing. The little boy shifted uncomfortably where he sat, and one of his gloved hands moved up to tug on a bit of his hair. Once again the shy, introverted behavior was showing itself in an outward, negative way. Michael frowned as he started to think about a good answer, her second question being another that would really delve into his personal life. What could he say to her, that wouldn’t make her get upset like all the other people?

“My…dad and mum both worked…away during the day. So…so every day I was in my room. I didn’t really…I didn’t leave my room…ever.” He didn’t really say it outright and loudly, he was just saying it softly. The boy was mumbling it, and still tugged his hair as a sign of insecurity. Now he would really be viewed with that kind of pitiful look…and she might say that it wasn’t his fault again, but Michael knew otherwise. It was his fault. His father wouldn’t have hit him if he had been good and hid his mutation from the rest of the world. Things would have been perfectly fine.

“I don’t have a favorite food. I just eat the food that I eat when I eat it.” He wasn’t sure if that would make sense to her, but for him it was perfectly sound and logical. Michael nodded his head slightly at the thought, and then took another sip of the cold water. Cold water was better tasting than warm water by far, and this water tasted really really good. He wondered why, actually.

Celeste was trying to not stare at him so much, so with sideways looks she watched as the mutant hid the small bags of chips in his backpack. That behavior was enigmatic and funny at the same time, but she achieved to avoid saying anything about it. After all these snacks were there to be eaten. No one had specified at what time. Maybe later when he get hungry, he would remember the generous girl who had given him those chips.

Fortunately she did not need to ask, since the child began to explain why he was not interest in the arbitrarily titles for breakfast, lunch, snack or dinner. He was not like everyone else, according to his own words, since he eat when he was hungry. Not when it was time to eat. That explained clearly why he had not eaten the chips, but saved it for later.

Then it was time to hear his response about their parents. Maybe that was the most important moment since they had begun to talk. The moment the child was going to let her step a little more inside his life. To what purpose? She did not know. But she felt a great empathy for the child whose parents seemed to work as much as hers.
His little voice was extremely difficult to hear. It was almost blocked completely by the soft rustle of wind in the leaves, or the few cars that crossed the street. So she leaning forward, the girl approached enough for his whispers become words. His lack of confidence at that time only increased the importance of those words. It was a painful memory that surely he did not want to remember.

Celeste, instead of getting upset, began to feel an even greater empathy for the child that seemed to have many things in common with her. Prompted by that feeling, she shared her vision of the world. "I know how you feel." Said the girl, in a tone full of sadness. She let the words disappear in the air and then continued. "Sometimes I do not want to leave my room." Her confession was not as important or painful as that of the mutant boy, but at least she was sharing some of her feelings. "My parents also work all the time, and I hardly see them." Since they are not even in the same country or same time zone.

After comparing war wounds, the atmosphere had changed. A mist of sadness was around them. Invisible but implacable. So the girl hurried in a attempt to cut the negative sentiment that dominated the place. "Everyone has a favorite food." Sentenced the girl. "You said that sometimes you got pizza. Did you like pizza more than others food?" While at home she had always a cook that made new dishes for her little queen, sometimes she enjoyed a nice slice of pizza. It was not her favorite, but the fact that it came from Italy gave that food enough points to enter her sophisticated menu.