An impossible to ignore the sadness that slinks onto her shoulders. “No one ever asked.”
“You messin’ with me, baby?” Disbelief and outrage fuse together to the point I can barely keep my voice steady. “How’s that possible? How could anyonenotwanna two-step with a PYT like you?”
“MJ reference acknowledged-”
“Thank you.”
“But to answer your question,” a small shrug shakes her whole frame, “no. I’m not messing with you. I wasn’t popular then. Or in college. Or really…ever. Guys have never fallen at my feet or pursued me – unless they were trying to get in good withor back at my brother – or really ever…made an effort to show interest in mefor me, present company excluded.”
“As I should be.”
“My senior year Ididthink this guy in my French class was gonna ask me to go, but he actually asked out the girlbehindme.” She tries not to let the sting be seen in her expression. “Turns out all the eye flirting was not at all meant for me, which made my brother ecstatic since he hated the dude anyway fromhissenior year. Football has always been a bigger deal in Texas than hockey and pretty sure that played a major role in his disgust.”
“You know I’m pretty sure the reason I’m slayin’ Spanish 1 is ‘cause of all the telenovelas we watch,” admits the teen at the same time he gestures to the bowl of gems beside Gilly. “Can we watchLa Hermana Amorosawhile we sling back za?” He accepts the object in tandem with stating, “’Cause real talk?GAASSSSSPPPat Noelle cheatin’ on Thiago with her best friends’, broskie bestieknowin’she’s into him. It’s givin’ high sus’ in likenew ways.”
The sound of the doorbell ringing provides me with a segue of a breather from his foreign language, I anxiously need, “Speakin’ of dinner…I bet that’s it.” Gilly prepares to stand prompting me to insist otherwise. “I got it, Slayer.” Her immediate gleam gets my heart pounding needlessly. “You jus’ keep an eye on Captain Counter Glue.”
“I ain’t spillin’ glue on the-” His self-interruption barely escapes my standing up. “Shiz!” Bronny scrambles to adjust the object again on a muttered, “Sorry, Gilly.”
“It’s okay. Half the fun is the mess you make,” are the last words I clearly hear enroute to the front door.
Warmly opening occurs the instant I arrive; however, seeing someone thatisn’tthe pizza person stuns me silent.
Not silent disco silent.
We’re talkin’ Simon & Garfunkel “The Sound of Silence” type of shit.
For some unknown, eternity feeling stretch of time, I simply stare at the individual staring at me.
Swallow the lump of trepidation in my throat.
Move my mouth yet can’t seem to make a single syllable.
Yet neither do they.
They merely stare back.
Twitch their brow, clearly attempting to process the sight in front of them.
Let their lips part and snap shut and part again with no noise escaping.
GumpWorsleygrantmeasave.
This shit feels like an unpredicted penalty shot during the playoffs right now.
I don’t know what’s gonna happen next.
“Jukeeeessss?” Gillian calls from the unseen. “Everything okay?”
Nope.
Definitely can’t say that.
Hell, I can’t say anything right now.
Won’t.
When she doesn’t receive a verbal retort, quick footsteps are promptly taken to discover why.
