Page 61 of No Interest in Love

And I’m pretty sure I’m chafing.

4:01P.M.

“I take it back,” Shay blurts, scaring me enough to misstep off the sidewalk and into the gutter. After the silence and nothing but our growling stomachs to keep us occupied, I set my body to autopilot.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, shaking off my now-soaked foot. It doesn’t even faze me at this point.

“I don’t want to hate you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I am a jackass.”

“And I’m emotionally constipated.” She sighs, wiping the sweat accumulating on the back of her neck. “And you…you’re actually…”

A few seconds pass and I look at her to make sure I haven’t lost my hearing. “Uh…you gonna finish that sentence?”

“You’re actually one of the few people I have fun with.” And I swear it, her already flushed face turns another shade darker. “So I take it back. I don’t hate you…and not just because Ican’tseem to…to hate you.”

Wow. Normally this would be the time to think of a joke or to tell her she’s full of it. But I don’t want her to be full of it. I have fun arguing with her. I have fun dishing it out and I anticipate her tossing it back. And I realize that this is a rare moment in Miss Unlikely’s dialogue. An unexpected dose of sincerity that makes me wonder what the screenwriter has in store for her next—if I’ll get to hear something like this again in the near future. Because as much as I’m against commitment, I don’t think I’d mind hearing these thoughts from her for as long as she’s willing to hand them out.

And I want to hand them out too.

“Hey, Shay?”

“Hmm?”

“The feeling is mutual.”

7:26P.M.

We’re back to busy streets, and Shay’s eyes narrow at a kid waiting at the bus stop.

“Do you think that guy would notice if I took his lunch bag?”

“That ‘guy’ is probably thirteen.”

“I could take him.”

Honestly, I don’t know if she’s joking or not, since she did steal that water yesterday, so I make sure to stick myself between the two as we pass. The sun’s getting lower on the west side, and I’m not sure how much farther we’ve got till the airport. But once we get there, I have no plan B. I’ve just been praying to that damn universe screenwriter to send some money our way.

Shay’s stomach snarls, and I’m so delirious I end up laughing for twenty minutes about it.

“Whose genius idea was it to walk?” she asks, grabbing onto the crook of my arm for balance. If I had the energy, I’d flex.

“I’ll try another ATM.”

“Never give up…”

“…never surrender,” I finish theGalaxy Questquote. “That’s damn sexy, by the way.”

“What?”

“Finishing my movie quotes.”

She snorts. “I think you’re delusional.”

“Probably,” I say before we go silent again. The next two gas stations we pass don’t have ATMs, but third time’s the charm. Even though I know both of us don’t expect any change in my bank account.

“This is it,” she says, leaning against the wall next to the ATM, shoulders slumped with the hopeless air surrounding us. “They are going to can my ass.”

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