Page 47 of Jagged

"Interest doesn't mean know. Interest means want to know." She shrugged and reached for her coffee to sip it.

"Oh…" was all I could come up with at the time.

"Do you have interest in me?" she asked, her voice soft, but the question didn't lack confidence.

The question struck me, but took me a moment to admit my response. "Yeah."

She smiled then, and it made it to her eyes for the first time in a manner that made me pay attention. Our gazes remained for longer than usual, until I glanced at the door.

"Do you want to take a walk or something?" I asked.

"Sure." She stood, scooped up her book, and placed the cap on her coffee cup. Both items ended up securely in her purse.

I joined her, gripping my board, and leading the way out the door.

The busy Seattle streets greeted us, as did a random drone flying overhead. It zoomed past, a heavy buzzing sound accompanying it briefly.

"Imagine a world where that's the traffic we'll see?" She nodded upward. "Drones and hovercraft."

"I can't imagine it… But if I could, it would be too much."

"I would drive a hovercraft if it was eco-friendly. Much more so than cars as they are now. The emissions are part of what's ruining the planet, other than, you know, basic humanity."

I chuckled when she said it and she glanced at me with a smile tugging the corner of her mouth. "What?"

"I made you laugh."

"You did." I nodded.

Her smile remained as we walked side-by-side down the busy street. "Do you live close by here?"

"Generally. About a twenty-minute walk. We're in a loft downtown. What about you?"

She glanced at me, her expression suddenly serious. "We?"

I nodded. "My best friend and I share a place, and her six-year-old daughter."

"Oh." She appeared to relax for a moment. "Not uncommon here for people to cohabitate. I did through college and most of graduate school."

"Us, too. We had more roommates over the years, but eventually we all were able to afford ourselves. It's expensive being your own dependent." I sighed dramatically.

A snicker escaped her, and she nodded. "It is. Do you have many friends?"

"A small group. But mainly because we all occupy the same space or social connections. My sister owns a tattoo shop, and we all hang out there. Sometimes Wildrose, but I don't like it much. It's gotten very club-like, or maybe I've just gotten old and don't like it as I used to."

"I'm not a fan of bars or clubs, but I've been there," she said while gazing at our feet.

I looked down to see our shoes walking in time completely mismatched. Her saddle shoes, shiny and tidy, beside my ratty old skate shoes seemed like the biggest juxtaposition ever. One end of the spectrum to the other, though I guessed bright red heels would be the farthest end of one spectrum, though. We weren't that apart, per say.

"Do you live close by here?" I asked her question back at her.

"About fifteen minutes." She pointed to our left. "In the condos by the market."

"Oh. Those are nice. You can see the harbor."

"Yes." She smiled at the mention of it. "I like watching the boats."

"I can imagine. Do you have many friends?" Again, I mimicked her question because socialization was not my forte.

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