She arches an eyebrow. “Of course. As evidenced by Gail Swanson’s upper hook.”
I flip up my middle finger and she laughs some more. “What book?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“What book were you going to bring?”
“You wouldn’t know.”
“That’s presumptuous.”
“Are you using big words to prove that you read?” My question is purely for fun. Of course, she fucking reads. I know that. But I’m a guy and offensive banter is how our kind displays affection.
April folds her arms across her chest and sits up straight, bustling with energy. “Is it working?”
I pause for a second. Okay, so maybe I lied when I’d said I was gonna bring a book. But for all intents and purposes, a comic book is a book. I don’t even know why I lied. It just came out. Now she’s gonna think I’m some fake elitist who thinks liking comic books is “uncool” or whatever.
I glance up and she goes on looking at me expectantly.
Ah, fuck it.
“Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man?”
I nod and play it cool.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that,” she says.
“The Amazing Spider-Man.”
Her tiny shoulders hunch forward and she laces her fingers together. “More specific.”
“The Amazing Spider-Man #92.”
“So you haven’t reached the part where he and Mary Jane are reunited?”
My jaw is on the floor. “You’ve read the comics?”
She picks up her cup of coffee and takes a slow, proud sip. Our waitress returns with the rest of our order.
“I have.” April nods.
“And you just ruined it for me?”
“Possibly.”
To say I’m impressed would be the understatement of the fucking century. “Great power, zero responsibility.” I point an accusatory finger at her. “Aunt May would be very disappointed. ”
She laughs into her coffee.
It’s a nice sound. Sweet and light.
Idid that. I want to do it again.
Immediately intrigued by her, I slide my glass to the side and lean forward. “Marvel or DC?”
April gasps. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” she says. “But if we’re being honest, I would never tell you if I liked DC. You seem way too judgmental.”