‘Could be she thinks you should know.’
‘Could be she’s an asshole.’
‘Never a zero per cent chance.’
We’re in the groove now and I can feel myself relaxing. This is easy, this is good. Hanging out with a cute girl, zero pressure, no expectations.
‘So what else,’ she says, tapping her nails against the side of her glass. ‘What other sordid things are you into?’
This is flirting. She’s flirting. I like it.
‘Well, when I’m not playing soccer or studying, I’m mostly reading, watching movies or organizing local orgies. You?’
‘Lovely, we have something in common!’ Lauren exclaims. ‘Movies, not the orgies. I’ve never been to one of those. You’ll have to let me know when you’re putting on the next one.’
‘Will do.’
‘I can do without the books though.’ She groans and sticks out her tongue like she’s gagging. ‘I’m definitely more of a wait-for-the-film-version girlie. My mum bought me the book ofWickedbecause I liked it so much but it’s about a million pages. And I thought breaking it into two movies was a lot. Fiction has always been a slog for me. I never would’ve survived an English degree.’
I turn to glance over my shoulder at the deserted bar.
‘Mia’s an English major.’
‘Mia the barmaid, your not-friend?’
I don’t know what exactly, but I’m getting the distinct feeling I’ve said the wrong thing.
‘What else should I know about this place?’ I ask, ignoring her pointed question. ‘What do y’all do for fun?’
‘Y’all.’ She clasps her hands to her chest and closes her eyes. ‘I can’t even.’
Knocking back a mouthful of beer, I hit her with a half-smile.
‘I’ve been getting that a lot.’
‘It was a compliment,’ Lauren insists, brushing her hair back. ‘Fun, fun, fun. Hmm, harder to come by in third year but the union puts on a lot of activities if you’ve got time. There are a million different clubs, if you can think of it, we’ve got it.’
‘Ultimate frisbee?’
‘If we don’t have it, you can start it yourself.’
‘Can’t imagine that I’ll have the time with soccer,’ I reply, ‘but you’re missing out.’
‘I’ll have to trust you on that,’ she says, looking over at me from under her eyelashes. ‘Strictly a spectator when it comes to that sort of thing. Funny thing is, I’ve never been into sporty boys. Rowers are boring, rugger buggers are unbearable, and football players are …’
‘Football players are what?’ I ask, lowering my voice a tad.
A delicate flush colours her cheeks and chest.
‘Surprisingly intelligent and very deep thinkers,’ she replies. ‘Especially ones who study psychology.’
‘Good save.’ I chuckle as I shift against the leather bench. ‘Like, goalkeeper good.’
‘Tell me about South Carolina.’ Resting her elbows on the table, she cradles her face in her hands. ‘You’re from a town called Beaufort, you said?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
I pretend not to notice when she closes her eyes and covers her heart with her hands again. It’s a little much, acting like a single word can melt the panties off a girl but at the same time, I can’t help but wonder how low the bar is over here. If a guy can score by simply being polite, it might be time to re-evaluate that famous British chivalry all the girls back home seem to think is so real.
