Page 11 of No One Else

“Okay,” she smiles before abruptly dropping her face back into a neutral expression. “And I’m sorry too for jumping you that night. It was obviously out of character for me.” She clears her throat, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear that’s escaped her ponytail. Heat spreads across the bridge of her nose among the freckles.

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” I leave it at that, not wanting to incriminate myself any further by telling her how much I enjoyed it, craved it, felt like my whole world was sliding into place with her attention finally on me that night.

We walk over to Suncoast’s library, sticking to safe topics related to work. She tells me Alex came in late for the third day in a row and got written up, and Gina’s pissy that she got the sucky shifts again now that Natalie’s back.

Then I drop the bomb that Lauren got caught hooking up with a married client in the staff showers.

“No,” she exclaims, her mouth forming a round O. “When did that happen?”

“Yesterday. Trisha walked in on them and blew a fuse. Lauren’s suspended until they decide what to do. It has to go to University HR or something.”

“Geez, I’m off for one day and the place falls apart.”

It feels good to be talking with her again like this. Easily. Comfortably. The way it was before that night at Empire.

We walk through the library doors, setting our backpacks down on a free table and start unpacking. She bites her bottom lip, avoiding my gaze as she asks, “Does, um, anyone know about what happened with us?”

It’s a fair question.

“No,” I assure her. “Except for Luke. But he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

She nods, dropping the subject and pulls out the paper Dr. Kaufman gave us at the end of class, outlining our assignments related to our project. “First, we have to figure out what kind of buyers we are.”

I flip open my textbook to the second chapter, setting it between us. “Wanna take a stab at me?”

She peruses the page, pointing to the last paragraph. “You’re a frugalist.”

I prop my chin on my elbow. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“You always wear the same two sets of workout clothes at the gym,” she ticks off on her fingers, “the straps on your backpack are frayed, your shoes are literally falling apart, and you drive a car that has to be at least twenty years old.”

I stare at her, shutting my mouth once I realize it’s hanging open.

She’s a detail-oriented person so it shouldn’t surprise me she’s picked up on little things like the state of my shoes and backpack, but the thing about the gym clothes - she’d really have to be paying attention to notice that. If her powers of observation are that strong, how could my confession last month have caught her that unaware?

I give her an easy grin, not letting on that she’s rattled me. “You’ve got me pegged.”

“What about me?” she smiles back, pleased with herself.

“Average spender.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“You’ve got characteristics of both a spendthrift and a frugalist.”

“Like...” she rolls her hand in agive me moremotion.

“Okay, let’s see. Spendthrift example. Those earrings.” I point to her ears. “Trisha complimented you one time on them and you told her you impulsively bought them, even though you don’t normally spend that much on jewelry. And then, frugalist stuff. Gina asked how you could afford your bag right there and you said it was a knockoff. Oh, and you refuse to buy the muffins at Starbucks because you say they’re overpriced, yet you’ll buy their coffee.”

I point to our textbook. “You’re a classic average spender.” I read directly from the page, “This type of buyer considers all decision criteria and makes comparisons before making a purchase. That’s so you.”

I look back up at her to find her eyes wide on me. “You remembered that stuff about my earrings and bag? Even about the muffins?”

“I-” What the hell was I thinking revealing how much I pay attention to her? I’m supposed to be convincing her I’m over her, not making things more awkward. “I notice stuff about everyone,” I laugh nervously. “Luke’s the biggest slob in the world. Trisha loves people sucking up to her. I could even tell you after one class with Dr. Kaufman that he doesn’t suffer any fools. He’s going to be the type that enjoys putting people on the spot.”

“Yeah,” she says faintly, then clears her throat. “That’s true about Dr. Kaufman. We better stay on top of the assigned chapters. And we’ll have a leg up on this project, since we already know each other so well.”

I make a noncommittal noise, turning my attention back to the textbook. No, we don’t know each other at all. Not if she was so surprised by my declaration. Or that I’d thought it would be well received to begin with.

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