[She just about crumples when the waiter leaves that time, and buries her face in her hands for a second to try and compose herself. They drop down into her lap and she holds them there, thankful for the way he's able to make her smile a little when he talks about oysters diablo. She sits up a little straighter and tugs her jacket more fully around her like it's a shield, able to keep her own feelings from hurting herself too badly. Really though, she's proud of who she is and their makeshift family back home. And she wants people here to know she isn't one of them.

Maybe she also wants to reassure herself she isn't one of them, but she chooses not to think about that as her eyes scan over the menu.]

Let's order them.

[She suggests, trying to sound lighthearted.]

The devil oysters and smoked clams. Oh! They have fried shrimp!

[That feels a little more down to earth and it brightens her up considerably. It makes her feel enough like herself that she's able to genuinely smile, and she reaches across the table to take his hand because they're supposed to be here for a romantic fun dinner. Not an episode of her white girl guilt.]

Do you think if I asked for a whole basket of them, they'd actually bring it out?