I turn back to Donovan Wolinski, and that’s when I realize that he’s still talking.
I decide to cut to the chase.
“What do you want?”
“An orange juice would be great, thanks.”
I open my mouth. Close it again. I slide my glasses down the bridge of my nose—a nervous tic that drives all my friends insane. I’m just about to ask whether he needs medical assistance, when he speaks first.
“How does it feel to be back at school? You enjoying it?” He smiles. “What are you studying? You’re a junior, right?”
Okay, where’s the hidden camera?
“Dude, how can I help you?” I snap.
“Whoa, take it easy! I’m just making conversation here.”
“Oh no!” I fake gasp. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
He studies me more closely now, searching my face for something I’m apparently missing. “Did we… I mean, have we ever…” He coughs nervously. “If I was a douche to you at some point…”
“You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” I tap a nail against my glasses frame. “Relax,” I add. “Little Donovan and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting.”
I flick my hand vaguely in the direction of his crotch and mime a little gag. Okay, maybe I’m pushing it—but I’m hoping he’ll get the message and leave. He’s not my type. He’s the type to interrupt a girl mid-chapter. Mid–plot twist, as a matter of fact. That’s a cardinal sin in my view.
“If you’ve ever hit on me and I shut you down, then I’m really sorry.”
“Oh boy. I have zero interest in you. Maybethat’s what’s throwing you off?”
Is it me, or does he look kind of relieved?
“Anyway, let’s circle back to the start. I’ll try again, slower this time.” I clear my throat. “How can I help you?”
“We have mutual friends,” he tries, like that makes this okay. “Why is it so surprising I would swing by to shoot the breeze?”
“?‘Shoot the breeze’?”
What in the hell is going on with this guy?
No matter which way I turn it, I can’t figure out what he wants—and to be perfectly honest, I’m not in the mood for chitchat. Especially not with him. What isn’t he getting about this situation? You’ve got a girl, sitting here alone with a book in her hand,clearlylost in the story, and clearly in no mood to talk. Although to be honest there is no scenario where I would ever want to “shoot the breeze” with Donovan Wolinski.
“Hey, what’s the big deal here? I just wanted to see how you’re doing. You know—like a normal person, and stuff.”
“Normal people tend to ask one question at a time. And anyway…”
I actually don’t know what else to say, so I let my sentence fizzle out.
He eyes my book. “You like to read, huh?”
I’m about to give him a slow clap for his scintillating conversation skills, but really, I just want him to leave. Like, hemustbe fucking with me.
“Yeah, I love to read. I especially love to read in silence. Alone.” I give him a meaningful look.
“Nice.”
Real deep, man.
He tilts his head, and for a second I think he might’ve actually picked up on the message. But nope. Out of nowhere, he reaches over and plucks the book out of my hand, flipping it to read the back. I chew the inside of my cheek. I know I’m acting like a total Gollum right now, but I bet his fingers are all sticky and dirty and shit.
