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“You really don’t have to.”
He grins at me. “I insist.”
I sigh, shoulders slumping.
“I’ll just go and get changed, and then we can go,” I say.
“Sure.” He takes another slow sip.
I go throw on different clothes and I’m back downstairs in less than five minutes. In another thirty seconds I’m in the passenger seat of Kelly’s car.
Instead of driving, he turns to face me.
Instead of talking, he just looks.
I take a glance at the clock on the dash.
“I’m gonna be late,” I say. “So can you do your thing and, you know, drive?”
“We’ve got time.”
“You’ve got time. I don’t.”
“I’ll drive if you start talking,” Kelly says.
“About?”
He throws me an unimpressed look.
“Gossip, Kel?” I say. “Really? You’re better than that.”
He purses his lips for a second as if considering the truth of those words before he shakes his head. “No. The results are in, and it turns out I’m not better than that at all.”
I drop my head back against the headrest and stare at the ceiling.
“Throw me a bone here,” he says. “Most of the time I’m so tired I can’t even seem to get it up anymore, so let me live vicariously through you.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Sure there is. If there weren’t, you wouldn’t be so shifty.” There’s a beat of silence. Just long enough for me to start hoping he’ll let it go.
No dice.
“So the jock, huh?” he asks.
Perceptive people who can draw conclusions based on very little are the worst. I debate whether there’s any point lying.
He turns on the ignition and pulls into traffic.
“Is this a serious thing?” he asks after a little bit.
“No.”
“You dating him?”
“No.”
“You sure? Because?—”
