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“And he couldn’t find a more original pickup line? Why would someone flirt like that? Granted, I’ve never heard such a thing because my father’s idea of wooing was to give my mother a book. But wouldn’t it defeat your purpose to compare yourself to something so ephemeral?”
“Huh, I don’t know.”
“And you do the same thing? Does it work a lot with girls?”
And why, oh why, did I find that thought unpleasant?
“I…”
“Of course it does. Why else would a person say such an inane romantic overture?” I wondered pensively.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d imagine that it’s on the same level as someone who thinks they’re being clever by using big words to insult me.”
My eyes widened when I realized I hurt the boy’s feelings with my plainspokenness.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“I do. You’re jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of me.” He smiled wickedly.
I am?
“Why would the thought of you saying this to other girls matter to me at all? I don’t even know you.”
“Please, like I believe you. You’re more jealous than a jellyfish.”
“That sentence is entirely paradoxical. Jellyfish are marine invertebrate. They don’t feel human emotions.”
“Sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re jealous at the thought of me flirting with other girls,” he stated with a smug look, completely unfazed by my argument.
“I really wasn’t,” I stubbornly (and lamely) replied.
“Yes, you were, but now isn’t the time for us to talk about it,” he hurriedly whispered as two more boys joined us in the alley.
The one on the left was taller with a preppy look that screamed old money. He was perfectly coifed with a pleasant smile meant to charm and put you at ease.
It would have worked too, if the glint in his icy gray eyes hadn’t reminded me of those dangerous men I met last night.
The second boy was cooler, more direct, and laid back. A beanie hat covered his dark hair, and judging from their identical gray eyes, I’d say the two were brothers, maybe even fraternal twins.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?”
Did they work for the Commander? He wouldn’t go to the trouble of making me believe I escaped, only to put this charade in place. Would he?
“She’s about to run.”
“You can read minds now, Mace?”
“It wouldn’t be very hard to do. Her poker face isn’t worth shit. You’re going to need to work on that by the way,” the dark-haired boy with the beanie hat declared, confusing me even more.
I tried to go around the blond, but he blocked my path. When I backed away and went left instead of right, I found the beanie boy in my way.
“Let me pass.”
“No.”
