Food was a universal constant. You needed it to survive and to make sure that your stomach didn't growl loud enough to attract bears and unusual native wildlife. Not that Ferris had met any unusual wildlife yet, but he wasn't keen to any time soon. That meant dealing with his stomach. That meant finding food. The bakery happened to be the first place he found. Convenient, yet delicious.
He entered the bakery and looked around. The girl seemed like a good place to start, or at least a good place to have a conversation. Good conversation was necessary, especially if their Danish collection turned out to be terrible.
"Hi," he said, sitting down without invitation. "I'm Ferris Bueller. What's good here?"
Coraline looked at him askance, because she hadn't invited him to sit down, but smiled politely. "I'm Coraline."
He did seem cheerful, at least. She could forgive the rudeness. "Probably quite a lot of things," she said. "I've only had an almond pastry and a hot chocolate, but both were very good."
"Coraline," he repeated, making sure he got the pronunciation right. "Unusual name." This coming from the boy named Ferris. "I like it," he decided. "I'll be right back." He got up and went to order something from the counter.
"That makes sense," Ferris said, returning with his food. "An almond pastry and a hot chocolate. If you say it's good, that's good enough for me. So you new? Native? Passing through, thought you'd stay a while and didn't end up leaving?"
"Not from here, but not from anywhere near as interesting as England. Shermer, Illinois. It's a little place to the north of Chicago. Plenty of things to do if you go into the city, but then, we didn't produce bands like Killing Joke and Flesh for Lulu. That gives your home country a definite advantage over mine, even if I still prefer hot dogs to bangers and mash."
"I've never had a proper American hot dog, and I'm not sure anyone says bangers and mash any more. At least not anyone I know." He certainly could talk, Coraline decided. "And your parents sent you here for school?"
"That's inhumane. No, it's inhuman. Inhumane and inhuman and something that clearly needs to be fixed. Coraline, I solemnly swear that by the end of the month, I will personally see to it that you've had the opportunity to eat a genuine American hot dog."
"You're more than welcome," he said, calm again. "Every teenager should have the opportunity to enjoy a hot dog at least once in their lives." He took a bite of his pastry, chewed thoughtfully and then nodded as he swallowed. "You were right. This is very good." He put the pastry between his teeth and stood up, collecting his hot chocolate. He held the pastry again. "I have to go, but it's been a pleasure meeting you. I'll probably see you around. More than probably. After all, I owe you a hot dog."
He entered the bakery and looked around. The girl seemed like a good place to start, or at least a good place to have a conversation. Good conversation was necessary, especially if their Danish collection turned out to be terrible.
"Hi," he said, sitting down without invitation. "I'm Ferris Bueller. What's good here?"
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He did seem cheerful, at least. She could forgive the rudeness. "Probably quite a lot of things," she said. "I've only had an almond pastry and a hot chocolate, but both were very good."
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Not that she wanted to leave such an interesting place. "You're an American," she added. "Are you from here?"
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He was definitely going to count as one of this school's weird things.
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