Page 32 of Wrench

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¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±

I smiled. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fine. College isn¡¯t for everyone.¡±

¡°Definitely not.¡±

Why would he bring up colleges if he had nothing to contribute to the conversation?

He strolled back from my degree and sat in his seat across from me. One foot rested on

top of his thigh so that his leg was half-crossed. His eyes analyzed me and his finger

tapped his chin, giving the appearance of being deep in thought. Not wanting the

conversation to end, I asked, ¡°So, what do you do for work?¡± Before wincing again. This

was a client, not a date. Right as I was about to apologize, a sly grin grew on his lips.

¡°I guess I¡¯d call myself a jack of all trades,¡± he said and in combination with his smile,

I knew that answer had several meanings. My desire to know what he wasn¡¯t sharing grew

stronger, but I reminded myself once again that I wasn¡¯t on a date.

Instead, I said, ¡°I like that. Jack of all trades.¡±

¡°Got any pets?¡± he asked, and I shook my head.

¡°No, I was finally in a position to get a dog of my own, but¡­¡± I paused, remembering

how just a month before I was showing Travis pictures of newborn puppies I wanted to

adopt.

¡°But what?¡±

¡°Oh.¡± I shook my head, brushing off the comment. ¡°Then, you know, life happens.¡±

He chuckled and said, ¡°I know that feeling.¡±

Relieved that he didn¡¯t pry any further into my humiliating personal life, I said a

simple, ¡°yep¡±.

He nodded and we locked eyes for a second, sitting in a still silence before I broke the

connection first. Something colorful on his arm caught my eyes and I lowered them to

look closer. His sleeve of tattoos that trailed up his arm was intimidating, covered in

skulls, chains, and a very detailed motorcycle with some font underneath, but I didn¡¯t

want to be caught staring at his arms long enough to read it.

Just by looking at him, I could tell he didn¡¯t pick these pictures sitting at a parlor,

searching up stock images. Each tattoo drawn over the veins of his muscular forearms all

the way up his rolling biceps had a story, a purpose, and experience. He had seen things I