Page 38 of Scoring the Player
“Felix,” I say his name as if my brain is still trying to process that it’s really him and I didn’t fall asleep at my workstation, and am currently dreaming he’s here.
Felix, or maybe Dream Felix, smiles. A half-smile. He does that a lot. Few things get a full smile out of him. I always smile fully. Happy-looking people get less attention.
“You’re really here,” he says, as he takes a few more steps into the lab.
“Where else would I be?”
“I thought working at the design lab was code for you dodging me.”
“Why would I…?” I start, but he’s closer now and his scent hits me. Definitely not a dream.
14
FELIX
Two hoursof sitting at The Hideout, eating and drinking, shooting the shit with my buddies, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Dahlia.
When Brogan asked where she was (the fourth person in an hour) it hit me how in such a short time people have gotten used to her being with me when I go out. It’s like when I was with Bethany. If I was somewhere without her, people would wonder why. Except in Dahlia’s case, I think they’re asking because they like her. Nobody really liked Bethany. Maybe to gawk at, but it wasn’t the same. My teammates actually like being around Dahlia. I didn’t realize how nice it would be to have a girl that fits in with all the other people in my life so well.
And I guess as I sat there with my buddies, I realized how much I wanted her there too.
I screwed up Saturday, hitting that guy and almost kissing her, so I don’t expect that she’s going to want to go to another party with me without a lot of groveling on my part.
“After Saturday night, I guess I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to go. I’m really sorry.” I scan her work. A poster with images and fabrics glued to it, and what I think are a pair of pants lying on the table in front of her. I’ve never been in this building before. I didn’t even know where it was. I had to ask Violet when I stopped by their house. I assumed that’s where Dahlia really was.
“I’m not hiding out or avoiding the world. I really had a lot to do.”
I nod and lean against one of the black tables that surround the classroom. “I see that.”
My stare lands back on the black fabric in front of her. She’s resting one hand on the material and standing partially in front of it, like maybe she doesn’t want me to see. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, uh.” She turns and steps an inch back to give me a better view. “A pair of pants. They’re for Eddie. Or, well, it’s just a mockup.”
“You got the job. That’s amazing.” Warmth spreads through my chest.
“Thank you.” She tucks a strand of hair behind one ear and ducks her head slightly.
“Congrats. I knew you would.”
“Well, he’s giving me an opportunity. There’s no guarantee that he’ll wear anything I make.”
“He will.” I smile at her when she finally looks up timidly. “I know it.”
“So, why again did you track me down?”
“I feel bad about Saturday. Let me make it up to you.”
“You don’t need to feel bad. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I failed. I don’t like failing.”
She laughs lightly. “You don’t control the whole world.”
“Real bummer, I know.”
“How do you want to make it up to me?” she asks.
“I heard Sigma is having after hours. I need my girlfriend with me.”
