That’s all it takes, apparently.
Now I can’t stop thinking about him.
I wonder if my father would take me off this assignment, because for the first time in my life, I really feel like I’m in trouble of crossing every line I’ve put in place for myself.
Caleb
I’ve kept some stupid things in my life. A bent paper clip might be the dumbest.
I’ve had it for six days.
It lives in my pocket, and I mess with it when I’m bored, which I keep telling myself is a habit and not a thing.
But, um, it’s a thing.
Here’s what I’ve got on Jasmine Dixon after six days of paying attention like the idiot stalker that I have become.
She eats lunch alone in the east stairwell because it’s quiet. She takes the long way around the loud hallway by the trainer’s room. She does her building rounds before anybody’s awake. And she pulls her sleeves down over her hands when a room gets to be too much for her. Kind of like sensory overload.
I’ve also started taking the east stairs. Every day. Like a guy with a problem, which is what everybody’s always telling me I am.
I swear to God, I should leave her alone. I don’t have the greatest track record with women. Shit starts out cool, but then eventually I make them cry, which sucks, because I never mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. I just do sometimes.
More importantly, I didn’t come to West Bubblefuck, Nevada, to obsess over some girl. I’ve got one strike left in my whole career, and her old man holds all the power. The smart play would be to stay far the fuck away from Jasmine. Even a five-year-old could call it.
So naturally, I ignore all the common sense of a five-year-old and show up to our Tuesday review with bells fucking on.
She’s already there when I walk in, papers squared up on the table. I sit, line my pen up straight with the edge, and drop three sugar packets next to her cup.
She looks at them like they’re dirty tissues. “What are those?”
“You said you take it with a lot of sugar. I didn’t know how much a lot is. Three’s a starting bid.”
“That is not in our work agreement.”
“It’s sugar, Dixon. Not a felony.”
“You remembered that?”
“I notice everything. We’ve been over this.” I lean back. “You gonna use it or just stare at it?”
“I’ll use it when you stop watching me do it.”
“Can’t. I notice everything.”
“So you keep saying,” she says, using an exasperated tone.
She still does not touch the sugar. She also does not move it away from her cup. I count that as a win.
“You brought a pen,” she says, like she just clocked it.
“You told me to. It’s in the notes. New me follows orders.”
“There’s no new you. There’s a you who hasn’t gotten caught yet.”
“Same guy, better behaved.” I tip my head. “You look tired.”
“Discussing my appearance is not in the agreement either.”
