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I’m not bothered by the proximity because the table keeps us apart. However, it still feels like we’re trying to decrease the wall between us. Are we crossing our differences by having this conversation? No, this just feels like a secret. We’re holding a secret between us, not only with the phone but with his career too.
“English lit with a minor in education.”
Astonishment takes over my system, hitting me like a cold and unexpected wave. I’m amazed and incredulous, but I don’t laugh. I don’t question it because Stanley has this unique expression that lets me know that he’s not lying. That’s his major, and he’s proud of it. His green eyes shine with enthusiasm by the mere mention of it. He’s passionate about it.
“Wow.” It’s the only thing that I can manage to say.
“You didn’t see it coming, did you? People are usually shocked when they find out that my goal is to become an English professor, but it’s what I want.”
I gave him exactly what he was expecting. The same skeptical reaction that he probably gets all the time. The only difference is that I can respect his decision and admire his confidence to admit and fight for what he wants. I appreciate his career choice more than I admire specific majors. At the end of the day, we would be doomed without teachers and professors. There wouldn’t be professionals in the world; they are the real pillars of society.
“I admire that.”
He scoffs in a lame attempt at hiding the fade blush covering his cheeks.
“I wish I could go back on time and record that Bree Pierce said that she admires something about me,” he comments in a lighter tone, trying to break the awkward tension from that serious moment.
“Don’t be an idiot. I still don’t like you.”
I bite my inner cheek to avoid laughing. Trying to hold back a smile, I grab the cup of coffee to cover my mouth. I blow the liquid, barely wetting my lips with it. Stanley’s gaze is on me, seeing straight through my bullshit.
He leans closer, and I’m paralyzed in my seat, unable to move away from him. Nor do I want to because that would let him know that I’m bothered by his actions. Letting him know my weaknesses? Hell no.
“If that helps you sleep at night...” Stanley’s voice is a whisper that barely caresses my face before he goes back to his seat, winking at me.
My awkwardness shows up, and I look away, focusing on the people that surround us. Silence installs in our table, but I’m not going to be the one to break it. Maybe we shouldn’t be talking at all. What other things do we have in common that don’t include college or the phone? Nothing. We’re two different kinds of people. Water and oil, always fighting but never mixing.
“I have a question. How are you so good at Beer Pong?”
Of all the things he could’ve been interested in.
“I don’t know. I always have been.” I move my hand in a soft gesture to take the importance of the topic.
“You’re certain about that?” Stanley interrogates without any malice. He’s genuinely curious about it, and I don’t know if that makes it worse.
I nod, surrounding the cup with both hands and bump the ceramic with my nails. The slight tinkling keeps me focused.
“I used to be my brother’s gold mine back in high school. Imagine if I’m sure about that.”
“Was I a good opponent? I almost beat you,” he remembers, and a cocky smirk reappears.
The bitterness from that night comes back and I can’t help it when my wounded ego shows up. Maybe I’m a sore loser like John Carter.
“It was a tie,” I correct him. “Don’t let it get to your head. I liked you before,” I say and instantly regret it.
Did I just say that I was liking Stanley?I shrink with embarrassment. My uncontrollable mouth doesn’t know when to shut up. It was an impulse that my brain didn’t get the chance to process.
Stanley doesn’t respond or makes any egocentric remarks. He stays still without making a single sound.
The door of the diner opens, and Ryder Weiss, looking like a hot male model, enters the place. His presence is intense and immense. The cashier stops sending smoky hearts to Stanley when she notices the new guy in here.
I don’t blame her at all because Ryder is probably one of the most attractive guys I’ve seen in my entire life. He’s taller than I remembered. Shit, I probably am a dwarf next to him. I’m grateful that I’m sitting and not standing up because I have no interest in knowing how small I look by his side.
Ryder spots us and walks to the table. His strides are long, but without being rushed. He takes his time, pacing gracefully as if he owned everything in a five-mile radius. Finally, Ryder arrives at the table and sits next to me, instead of taking Stanley’s empty side. He passes his right arm over the back of the seat and, with the other hand, grabs my cup.
I’m frozen in place, gawking at him drinking the coffee that I paid for.
“Is this guy for real?” I ask Stanley, pointing at his friend with my thumb.
