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Once upon a time when I pouted my lips like I’m doing now, Rennix would fold to whatever it was I wanted. Now? I’d say it’s semi-working. He looks like he wants to hand it over, but there’s something holding him back. That, or I’ve lost my touch. I hope it’s not the latter. I rely on my pouty face and not-so-subtle whine often to get what I want. If I truly have lost my touch, it’s going to be back to the drawing board, and I don’t have time for that.

Clearly it’s time to switch it up. Initiating Operation Make my Pout Poutier, Make My Voice Sultrier, and Use the Only Thing my Mom Blessed me with Aside from Trauma and Bat my Lashes. Just to give it one more shot.

Well, this is going as well as one could imagine. I’m making a fool of myself all the while Rennix is staring at me with such pity, I have first-, second-, and third-hand embarrassment.

My mouth feels sore as I adjust from a pout to a neutral expression. “Fine. Have it your way. I didn’t want it anyway.”

His gaze falls to my still outstretched hand. “Right.”

“Don’t right me. Who are you, Dr. Evil? Give me a break.” I scoff, retracting my hand, opting to cross my arms tight.

He closes the space between us, inching closer with slow and steady steps. “I’ll give it to you, I promise. But under one condition.”

All this drama for an iPod? Seriously?

“You don’t have the best track record with promises, but I’m all ears.” Sure, it’s a low blow, but I want that iPod real bad. I’m talking Jennifer Coolidge wanting a hot dog level bad. I would do unspeakable things for him—to him—to get ahold of it.

I’m getting giddy just thinking about how smooth the click wheel will feel once again under my thumb. However, I don’t let on to this. I’m desperate, but not that desperate…yet.

“You dance with me.”

“Oh,” slips past my lips.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, tossing a hand up to the back of his head, ruffling his hair up a bit. “You don’t have to. Forget it. I just thought that…”

I bring my hand to his, lowering it from where he’s now actively disheveling his hair.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I was just surprised, that’s all. I was expecting you to say something else with how you’re acting. That’s all.”

His shoulders slump, his gaze following as he stares at the floor. “I mean it, you don’t have to. I don’t know, I guess I thought since we seem to be experiencing a redo of sorts, and since I…” He stops himself, handing me the iPod. “Here.”

I don’t take it from him. Instead, my hand lowers, brushing against his arm. A tingling sensation spreads through my core, as he gives me his full attention.

“I thought it’d be nice to make up at least one of the dances I owe you considering…” His voice drifts as his head juts upward in the direction of the door across the gymnasium labeled Control Room. “You’re almost to the end.”

“You mean, we’re almost to the end,” I manage through a sudden lump lodged in my throat.

“There’s an exit door in the control room.” His voice is monotone.

I nod. “Exactly, so we—” I motion between us. “—can go through it together.”

He bites his lip. “That’s not how it works…” There’s nothing but melancholy in his voice. It only worsens as he continues speaking. “I made a promise.”

Oh, I see. He can break promises to me, but honor oaths to a computerized entity? Cool. Cool.

I’d press the topic more if it wasn’t for the morose demeanor that’s taken over him dissipating before my eyes as he untangles the cord to the earphones, placing an earbud in my ear and the other in his.

His thumb hovers over the click wheel, seeming to want to press it, but for some reason he can’t.

“Can I?” I eye the iPod.

“Yeah, might as well. Whether you choose the song or I do, all of them lead back to the same thing.” And just like that, his morose state is back tenfold.

I give the wheel a few spins, just to get myself reacquainted with it, until I navigate my way over to the playlist option.

I’m a firm believer that you can tell a lot about a person based on their curated playlists. For example, all of mine from On Wednesdays We Listen to Emo Shit, Smoke and Chill, All Aboard the Crashout Express, and Take Me Back let anyone who peruses the song choices or listens to them know that I am chaotic at best. That, and I have both eclectic and superb taste in music.

The anticipation mounts, wanting to see what Rennix’s playlists say about him. I’d like to say I know him well, and I do, but still, there’s always more hidden beneath the surface and you learn about a person from what they listen to alone.