She nods once, clearing her throat. “We’re both fully clothed, correct?”
I blink at her rapidly. I know she must have dealt with this before, but she seems too calm. “Yes. But-”
“Then what’s the problem?” she asks, tilting her head curiously.
“You really want to be seen fraternising with the enemy? You said that you didn’t even want your friends to see us together, never mind the whole world,” I say.
She chuckles low. “That was a joke, Branson. My friends know we’re working on the project together. When a reporter comes up with an interesting story,thenI'll care. Right now, the best they can probably think of is that we slept together.”
She says it so calmly as if it doesn’t bother her at all. The waiter arrives with our drinks, placing her Coke in front of her and my lemonade in front of me. She takes a long sip of it.
“And that doesn’t worry you?”
“No. Why would it? No one is stupid enough to believe I actually slept with you,” she argues.
“Right.” I glance over to the kitchen and there’s still no sign of him. “What else are we supposed to talk about while we wait?”
She shrugs, pushing her hair out of her face. “I don’t know,” she says. She drops her eyes to her hands on the table, mumbling, “What are your hobbies?”
She asks the question like it physically pains her for us to talk about something not school or business related. Her whole body practically cringes as the words leave her mouth, ending the sentence with a shudder.
It’s good for me though. I’m so desperate to break into her special way of thinking. Sometimes I want to know every thought in her head.
“Seriously, Linda? That’s the best you can come up with?”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, I don’t want to be here with you to begin with,Danny.So, excuse me if-”
“I play piano,” I reply, cutting her off. Her eyes widen, mischief and humour dancing within them.
“Oh shit, I forgot. Like, youactuallyplay?”
“Yeah. I’m in the band.” I regret saying that the second the words leave my mouth.
I love to play. I’ve had lessons pretty much since the womb since my mom also plays. When I found out North had music rooms available to all students, as well as a grand piano in the Radnor building, I couldn’t help myself.
“And you’re in the band?” she repeats, smiling. It’s not a sweet smile that she gives strangers. It’s a wicked one that she reserves only for me when she’s trying to piss me off. If her eyes go any wider, I swear they’ll of her skull.
“Yes, I’m in the band. Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?”
“You're making this too easy," she says.
“Making what too easy?”
“Being able to make fun of you,” she replies, smiling wide. “I'm convinced it's my absolute favourite thing to do in the world.”
“You must have a very boring social life,” I retort. She shrugs, dismissing me as she moves on to her questioning.
“So, did you, like, go up to them and ask, “Hey, can I join the band,” or did they scout you out?”
I’m about to respond seriously, telling her that I was caught playing in the music rooms on campus and they offered me a spot. I haven’t shown up to the meetings in a while, but if they ever have a performance, I’ll show up.
Then I see the way she’s trying her hardest not to laugh at me. I roll my eyes and the sound comes rushing out of her like a wave, crashing against the shore in my brain.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” I mutter, shaking my head. She doesn’t stop laughing until it smooths out with a long sigh. I wish I knew why making fun of me makes her so happy.
“But you love it,” she says when it finally dies down. Her expression borders on sadness instead of joy. Her smile wobbles a little as she says, “I don’t have any hobbies. Not really, anyway. I like fashion, music, and Pinterest, but doesn’t everybody? I try to make my own designs when I can but… I dunno.”
“You don’t need to do something extraordinary or special for it to be a hobby, you know?” I say. She holds my gaze for a second, squinting to see if I’m being serious. I am. So serious.
