“It’s good to see you again.” He sat on the curb, looking sideways at her.
She glared back at him, suspicion and hostility plain on her face. She held onto her knee, which was scraped up pretty badly; the effect of the posture added to her air of closed-off hostility.
“Listen,” he said, “I really, really am sorry about your bicycle, I really didn’t see you coming out from between those cars...” He laughed, a little painfully. “And what are the odds, really? One blind date, months ago, and I’ve been thinking about you on and off ever since, and then... there you are, sprawled across the hood of my car.” He grinned, a charming, boyish expression. All innocence.
She curled up a little more, narrowing her eyes.
“I’ll get you a new bike, I...”
“Oh, just shut up.” She spat the words. “Just... God, listen to you. I can’t believe you. You take me out, then act like we’ve never met, then take me out again, then ignore me in public, then you call and... God, it was like the world’s most fucked-up game of hard-to-get. Then you showed up at my work...”
“I was just coming to apologize for...”
“You were there every day for two weeks, standing outside with fucking flowers and a stupid moony expression. I had to sneak out through the parking garage, I had to get my coworkers to cover for me...”
“Two weeks?”
“Yes! Two weeks, every single day. And that was after we’d slept together and then you acted like you didn’t know who I was, and...”
She leapt to her feet, awkwardly. “Listen,” she said, “I am not going to sit here with you. I’ll just walk the stupid bike the rest of the way to work. Don’t worry about buying me a new one, just... just stay the hell away from me, okay? If I ever see you again, I’ll call the police.”
“I... Okay, I mean... yes, I’ll stay away from you.”
She wrestled the bike up and limped away, painfully. He watched her go, sitting at the curb. When she’d turned the corner he pulled out his phone.
She glared back at him, suspicion and hostility plain on her face. She held onto her knee, which was scraped up pretty badly; the effect of the posture added to her air of closed-off hostility.
“Listen,” he said, “I really, really am sorry about your bicycle, I really didn’t see you coming out from between those cars...” He laughed, a little painfully. “And what are the odds, really? One blind date, months ago, and I’ve been thinking about you on and off ever since, and then... there you are, sprawled across the hood of my car.” He grinned, a charming, boyish expression. All innocence.
She curled up a little more, narrowing her eyes.
“I’ll get you a new bike, I...”
“Oh, just shut up.” She spat the words. “Just... God, listen to you. I can’t believe you. You take me out, then act like we’ve never met, then take me out again, then ignore me in public, then you call and... God, it was like the world’s most fucked-up game of hard-to-get. Then you showed up at my work...”
“I was just coming to apologize for...”
“You were there every day for two weeks, standing outside with fucking flowers and a stupid moony expression. I had to sneak out through the parking garage, I had to get my coworkers to cover for me...”
“Two weeks?”
“Yes! Two weeks, every single day. And that was after we’d slept together and then you acted like you didn’t know who I was, and...”
She leapt to her feet, awkwardly. “Listen,” she said, “I am not going to sit here with you. I’ll just walk the stupid bike the rest of the way to work. Don’t worry about buying me a new one, just... just stay the hell away from me, okay? If I ever see you again, I’ll call the police.”
“I... Okay, I mean... yes, I’ll stay away from you.”
She wrestled the bike up and limped away, painfully. He watched her go, sitting at the curb. When she’d turned the corner he pulled out his phone.
To: all@smith-clones.org
From: Jacob Smith <jacob@smith-clones.org>
Subject: Just how many of us are dating Julie Harding?
Brothers, I was just in a very awkward traffic accident...
No comments:
Post a Comment