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“You should get you one,” he teases with his warm grin.
I give a huff of dry laughter. “A girlfriend? Maybe. But honestly I’ve always gone for guys.”
“Then get a boyfriend.”
“I would, but where exactly would I find one?”
Ben’s expression changes. “Ah. Yeah, that is kind of a problem. But you’ll have your pick once we ever get out of here.”
“Yeah.” I say it to be polite. Not because I believe it.
“Are you upset about it? Do you get lonely?” His brown eyes widen in evident surprise. “You always seem to be perfectly fine on your own.”
“I am fine. But I’m not going to lie. It would be nice to have someone.”
“Yeah, I guess so. And I’m sure you will. You’re so pretty and such a great person. To tell you the truth, I might have made a move on you if it hadn’t been clear I wasn’t supposed to.”
As he’s talking, I notice Grant come down the hallway from the offices and head toward the main kitchen. He usually stops by at this time to pick up a packed lunch. Dinner is the only meal he eats at the community tables.
There’s nothing noteworthy about his appearance just now, although I do see him glancing over toward me briefly. He usually nods, and I’ll give him a little wave of acknowledgment. Nothing really. Just noting the other’s existence. When he sees me talking to Ben, he turns his head away as he’s nodding, like he thinks the gesture might interrupt my conversation. So I don’t even have the chance to wave at him.
The whole interaction consists of less than five seconds, but it distracts me enough from Ben’s words that it takes me a minute to process what he said. He’s already changing the subject, mentioning again how he’s hungry today and looking forward to lunch, when my mind catches up.
“What?”
Ben frowns. “What, what?”
“What did you say? Something about how you weren’t supposed to make a move on me?”
“Yeah. That was the understanding I always got.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know.” He makes a facial expression that’s as good as a shrug. “Just around. Everyone seems to know it.”
My heartbeat has accelerated. My cheeks are heating up. I’m breathing faster as I stare at his innocently bewildered face.
Like he can’t believe I didn’t already know this obvious fact.
“Everyone knows they’re not supposed to make a move on me?”
“Y-yes. It’s been like that for a while. Are you upset or something?”
I stare at him, suddenly terrified that I’m on the verge of exploding.
Exploding from something.
I haven’t been genuinely angry in almost a year. I’m not sure why. It just feels like I don’t have enough energy or emotional momentum left for anger. I’ve felt irritable regularly but not truly angry.
Not until right now.
It’s so foreign to my existence lately that I almost don’t recognize it as it swells, rises, fills me.
“I figured you knew,” Ben goes on, looking concerned. “I thought you kind of wanted the word out there so you wouldn’t get endlessly pestered. And that when you decided who you were interested in, you’d just ask.”
He’s so sweet and so clueless that I almost want to laugh, but I’m too distracted by the hot outrage pulsing inside me.
“I didn’t know,” I tell him, realizing he needs a response or he’ll keep checking if I’m all right. “I figured no one was interested.” When I see he’s about to object to this statement, I continue, “It’s fine. No big deal. There’re not a lot of options down here anyway.”
