Page 96 of Betting on the Brainiac

“Thanks, but I don’t look great in dresses.”

She knees me lightly in the stomach and stretches her leg back out. “Are you done joking now?”

“I wasn’t joking. I really think we should have talked about this two weeks ago. What if we catch feelings?” I hope I’ve given herenough friend energy to convince her this is just a responsible discussion we got behind on having.

Her smile fades, and she struggles to sit up, sliding her legs from my lap. “That sounds messy. Complicated. Uncomfortable. All things I dislike intensely.”

“What if it’s not feelings?” I ask. “What if it’s only attraction?”

She gets up to put back the kitten then comes back to frown down at me. “Won’t work. I haven’t fallen for a friend before, but I’ve watched two of my roommates fall in love this year. Attraction on top of friendship? I’d say whoever gets the hots will also get the heartbreak, because the attraction will mix with friendship and get confused for love, and then the friendship is over.”

“Why over?” I keep my tone curious. “Why not a new thing?”

“It would have to go both ways.” She’s back to being careful with her words.

“You think it wouldn’t go both ways in our situation?” I’m thankful my voice stays even. Maybe she sees through to what I’m really asking, but keeping myself together right now is what will let us both move forward like this conversationdidn’thappen.

“I think it would not,” she confirms.

I give a thoughtful nod. “So I don’t need to worry. That’s a relief.”

She looks slightly confused as I let a yawn slip out and stretch my arms high over my head.

“I’m going back to my place,” she says.

“Which one?” I tease. “I hear you have two now.”

“Dork. You good if I move in stuff over the next few days?”

“Fine with me.”

“Great. One more thing. Would you be okay with me picking up stuff at the store to decorate in here? It’ll sell the story.”

“And mean more items for the store to order and replace.”

She grins. “Exactly.”

“Sure. I’ll leave my credit card on the counter.”

“My treat,” she says.

“No way. You’re doing me a favor by handling details I never get around to. It’s on my tab.”

“All right. Be excited. We just debuted a collection called ‘Transgression’ about the taboos women carry in different cultures because of patriarchy. All the pieces are made from women’s worn-out underwear. Well, and bras. Girdles. Tights. Anything that we’re expected to cover with clothing. Oh, and hair, also. Like these woven coasters I’m going to buy.”

“Made out of hair?”

“Innovative, right?”

I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t. But I don’t want wall hangings or anything else made out of used undies and hair. “Do you have any collections called ‘wood stuff’ or ‘wool is nice’?”

“You’re funny, Oliver. See you tomorrow. You’re going to love it.” She waves as she leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Tab,” I say as she pads over to sit on my lap. “Madison has me asking myself all kinds of questions I’ve never considered. Like, if you’re falling for someone, how do you stop the falling part? What ledge or branch am I looking for to save me? And also, can I live with underwear on my walls for a year?”

Tabitha gives me a slow blink. It looks really cool. “Is that why cats are arrogant, Tab? If you know that every species around you could try their whole lives and never reach the level of coolness you infuse into a single eyeblink, maybe you get high on yourself.”

Tabitha’s answer is to give me a front-row view of her butt as she walks off my lap and saunters away.

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