“Telekinesis,” she settles on with a small lilt in her voice.
“Just imagine how unstoppable we’d be? The duo the world never knew it needed.” I type her response. “We need names.”
“Names?”
“Yeah, all superheroes have one. We’ll need secret identities too. I’m no Clark Kent, but I can pull the hell out of some glasses.”
I peek up then look back at my screen but do a double take on her face. I swear I just saw her lips crack a smidge. Did she smile? Holy shit, did I just make Josefine smile?
It was hardly anything, but I know a smile when I see one.
We’re only eight days into the year, but I think that’s probably going to be the highlight of it.
“You look like you’d be able to pull them off,” she absently says, as if she were just pointing out a fact but…
Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.
“Are you flirting with me?” I arch a brow, doing everything in my power not to look smug as fuck when the faintest coat of red appears on the apples of her cheeks.
“That’s not flirting,” she quickly fires back, the red slipping away as if it were never there.
“Kind of sounded like it.”
She shoots me a vexed expression. “I was just making a statement. If I was flirting with you, which I’m not, you would know.”
Propping my elbow on the table, I rest my chin on the heel of my palm, flashing her a coy smile. “Then you’re going to have to show me what you consider flirting because I still believe you were.”
She stares at me for a beat like she’s contemplating it, but then she shakes her head.
“It’s my turn. What’s your major?”
“Boo.” I point my thumb downward. “That’s no fun, but I’m majoring in Studio Art like you.” My eyes widen and so do hers. I didn’t mean to slip up.
“You read up on me?”
“It’s called research,” I lamely quip.
“Why would you need to do research on me?”
“Just wanted to know more about Josefine Resendiz.” It’s the best and only response I can give her. Though I know she knows why, and I don’t further explain due to the listening ears around us.
For a moment, neither one of us says a word. Maybe she’s found herself at a loss for them like I have.
Though it’s not that I don’t have the words. I have many of them. I just don’t know how to put them together to voicewhat I want to ask. I don’t want to invade her space, make her uncomfortable with my inquisition, but I also want to know about her because the internet only gives you so much.
“There’s not much to know.” She shrugs.
“There’s always something to know.”
“We’re strangers.”
“Friends.”
“We can’t be friends. We don’t know anything about each other.”
“At some point, you’re going to have to stop using that as an excuse.”
She scoffs. “It’s not an excuse. And who said I wanted to be your friend?”
