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Which of course only made her more embarrassed about it.
Her face was reddening as she responded.
“That is actually a much better answer than I was imagining.”
“Too bloody right it is. Now. What other things do you think I did wrong?”
“Probably none, if that one is anything to go by.”
“Wouldn’t be too sure. I am, after all, a huge shit.”
Are you though, she wanted to say. But didn’t.
There had been far too many times that she’d been sure about something like that—or started to believe that maybe someone was okay—only to be let down when they suddenly revealed their true nature. So it was better not to say it out loud yet. Or at least test the waters more, before she let herself feel safe.
“All right,” she tried. “So what about the restaurant?”
“The restaurant was just a coincidence.”
“As in you were there anyway and then suddenly we were too.”
“Yes. I saw you both come in. I felt awkward after that nightmare of a meeting and the fucking phone call from hell. So I tried to hide. Really badly.”
Okay, she thought.Not a bad answer.
And he looked awkward enough about it that she could believe it was true. Which meant that there was only one thing left now that he’d done wrong. One single, solitary thing, which she was starting to suspect he had a good explanation for, too. But she said it anyway: “You hid much worse in the Starbucks.”
Much to his further exasperation.
“I wasn’t trying to then.”
“So that was on purpose.”
“Yes. Sort of. Not the way you’re thinking.”
“And what way do you think I’m thinking?”
“I don’t fucking know, do I,” he said. Then after what looked like a second’s thought, he came out with this: “The one where I turned up to get revenge on you for forcing me to confess I wear glasses.”
Which just about made her heart stop.
Because somehow, he was bang on.
That was exactly what she had thought.
He’d absolutely nailed it. He’d understood precisely what level of absurd he seemed to people. What level of absurd he seemed toher, specifically. And there was something so wild about that that she couldn’t speak for a moment. She simply stood there, eyes wide, mouth much too open for her liking. And only managed to stop when he started to notice.
He looked up from what he was doing—rubbing at his eyes again, in a way that was only going to make them worse. Then he did a little surprised start. Like her expression wasn’t what he was expecting. So she folded it back up, quick.
Then went with a denial. A soft one, of the sort he deserved, really.
“Come on. I never thought you were that weird,” she said.
And even though he tried to shrug it off, she got a glimpse of something.
A hint of appreciation, before he sighed and tried to further explain.
“Look, Greg told me you’d be willing to meet up with me in that Starbucks, to let me properly apologize and explain things and then we could work together. So I don’t know what wires got crossed or how you thought things would be when you got there. But from my end, you came in and didn’t want to sit with me and then when I tried to sit with you, you ran off,” he said, quite clearly agonized all the way through the confession, but doing it all the same.
