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The first day Ailani had met Myron, she had confirmed that the process to turn him from a spoiled brat into a bearable human being that respected women would be a long one.
Which Ailani was down for; like she’d told her brother, she was bored.
She briefly stretched before she answered the door and welcomed Myron into the Palakiko household for the second time.
“Hello, my love, my doll,” he effused while he walked in and she shut the door behind him, “how are you on this lovely Thursday afternoon?”
Ailani smirked as she slightly raised her eyebrows. “I’m fine,” she answered, “how ‘bout you?”
“Now that I am again in your company, I am wonderful,” he replied. He then leaned towards her and said, “But I had a hard day, so how about you give Myron some sugar?” When Ailani did not immediately comply, he produced a few bills and added, “Come on, I need it.”
She didn’t even look to see how much money it was before she took a step back. She’d been warned by Kitty that he was likely to attempt this. He must have been too shy on that first day they met to try it.
“Some advice,” she stated as she looked him right in the eye, “There are two responses you’ll get to that. One, which you are getting now, is irritation, which in some extreme cases could result in you getting knocked out. The second is encountering a gold digger, who will happily take your money in exchange for sexual favors until you ‘coincidentally’ die, shortly after putting her in your will. And she’ll cheat on you the whole time before your untimely death.”
There was a beat of silence as he processed this, before he pocketed the currency and said, “So you’re saying that it can be a waste of money, and it will get me hurt.”
She tilted her head slightly to the side and raised one eyebrow. “Yeah,” she flatly said.
He frowned. “Why are you mad about it, though? It’s a compliment.”
She withheld a sigh. “It’s really not.”
His tone clearly conveyed that he did not understand when he said, “Okay, whatever. What’s for supper?”
“...spaghetti.”
Myron looked surprised. “You people eat spaghetti?”
“‘You people’?” she repeated in some mild disbelief. “Why wouldn’t we eat spaghetti?”
“You’re Hawaiian,” he answered, like it was an answer.
She blinked at him. “And you’re Jewish,” she returned, “you eat more than just bagels and brisket.”
He had the look like that was some small revelation. “That’s true,” he murmured, “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Well,” Ailani drawled, “your life will improve when you start thinking. What do you wanna do until my dad gets home?”
Myron obviously missed the dig. Instead, his ‘creeper’ smile returned, and he asked, “Why do we need to wait until he’s here to start my hula lesson? Couldn’t you and your mom teach me?”
Ailani had an unwelcome flashback to the skeevy look Myron had given her mother when he first saw her. “Neither of us really know the male style of hula,” she patiently explained.
“Why shouldn’t I learn the feminine hula?” he questioned, and stepped uncomfortably close. “That way, I could better learn how to please fine young women like yourself!”
‘Yeah, okay,’ she thought, ‘I’ve clearly got to nip this in the bud. I may have waited too long, even.’ She turned and began to walk towards the living room, and did not so much as glance to make sure he followed. “I thought we could play some music, sing a little, actually.” It was a short walk to the living room, and she went straight for her guitar that she’d placed there earlier. She picked it up, sat in the nearby armchair, and positioned it for play. She finally looked up to see if Myron was there. He was. “I’ll go first,” she said. With nothing further, she began to play.
~To know you is to hate you
So loving you must be like suicide!
Well
I don’t mind
If you don’t mind
I am not the one that’s gonna die!~
As she occasionally looked at him while she played, something told her that she really should have done this the day they’d met.
~Everybody loves a joke
But no one likes a fool
And you’re always cracking the same old lines again
You’re well rehearsed in every verse
And that was stated clear
But no one understands your verity!~
It was then that his expression went all moony, for some reason. But Ailani persevered. ‘I’ll just sing it harder,’ she thought.
~To know you is to bait you!
And you fell victim to your own denial
Well
I don’t mind
If you don’t mind
You’re wasting all your time…~
When her gaze returned to Myron as the final note faded out, she knew something had gone wrong. “You understand what I was trying to say with that?”
“Completely!” he gushed, as a wide grin appeared on his features, “I’m going to have to work very hard to earn your love, because you aren’t very impressed right now, but it will be worth it, because, as you sang, no one else understands my truth like you do.”
Ailani blinked, confused for a moment, but then she connected what had happened, where she’d screwed up. ‘Verity’ meant ‘truth’. She should have looked that up earlier; she would have picked a different song.
But, even with that, it still took some mental gymnastics to get to the conclusion Myron had gotten to.
She was almost impressed.