At first, I thought he was grasping at conversational straws. Then I noted the tension in his posture and wondered if he hadn’t been working his way around to this subject all along.
“Did you have a good time?” he added, when I failed to respond.
I looked at the floor. “No.”
“Good. I mean, not good, but you know. Because I would hate to see you get caught up in all that superficial high-school business. Like dating, or boyfriends. Committing yourself too young. Before you explore all your options.”
I sniffed despondently. “No danger of that.”
Bo nodded several times. I thought maybe that was the end of it when he suddenly said, “Because I like you the way you are.”
“Oh. Thanks.”That makes one of you. Still, I was grateful for the positive feedback, even if my fan club consisted of a lone thirteen-year-old.
“You’re very nice,” he continued.
“I’m not, actually.”
“Yes, you are! And smart. And really pretty.”
A warning light flashed in the recesses of my brain, but I was too preoccupied to pay close attention. “That’s very generous of you to say.” Too generous, in fact. “Did someone put you up to this?”
“Up to what?”
“Trying to make me feel better.” I watched his face for signs of guilt. “Because of what happened at the dance. WithAlex.”
He gulped audibly. “Alex?”
“Alex Ritter, the one who—” I broke off, shaking my head. “It’s complicated.”
Bo’s shoulders slumped. “Complicated is bad.”
Softened by this unexpected display of sympathy, I crossed the room to join him on the couch. “I just never thought he would be interested in me, you know? I assumed he was playing around because he’s so far out of my league.” For the hundredth time, my memory replayed certain moments of my acquaintance with Alex. Sitting on the bench in the backyard. Trivia Night. Dancing ... I shut down that memory before it could go any further.
Bo cleared his throat. “When you say he wasplaying,does that mean the two of you were, ah, what you might calltogether?”
“No! Well, not exactly. At least, I don’t think so.” I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. “I would have known. Presumably.” I glanced at Bo to see if he had any insight on the matter.
“Presumably,” he agreed, not meeting my eyes.
“It’s not like he asked me to the dance,” I reasoned. “Though he did ask metodance whileatthe dance. But that’s not really the same thing.”
“I would have asked you way ahead of time. And taken you out to dinner and gotten you a corsage. Orchids.” He touched his wrist, indicating the imaginary flowers. “Did Alex wear a tux?”
“No.”
“I would have worn a tux.”
I didn’t point out that he would have been the only one in formalwear. The fervency of his words suggested the tuxedo mattered a lot to his overall vision. Which was remarkably vivid.
“ThisAlexcharacter.” Bo’s nose wrinkled. “He’s older?”
“A senior.”
“Damn it!” His fists clenched. Slowly he eased back, expression lightening. “Like you and me.” Bo waved a hand between us. “You’ll be a senior when I’m a sophomore.”
“I suppose that is ... technically correct.”
“It’s not impossible then.” There was a stubborn edge to his voice, as though we’d had this argument before. “We could go to the dance together.”
