Page 91 of The Rom-Commers

I kept trying to talk and joke around and just kind of celebrate the fact that we hadn’t died.

It was a safe bet that he’d forgotten we had signed up to do research at a line-dancing class across town tonight, and in his current mood, I wasn’t sure how to remind him.

Finally, I just decided to pretend we were all on board.

“Come on,” I said to Charlie after dinner.

Charlie was clearing plates from the table. He read my body language. “Come on where?”

“It’s line-dancing class tonight,” I said.

“Line-dancing class?”

“For the script.”

But Charlie shook his head. “Nope,” he said.

“Yep,” I countered. “I put it on the digital calendar.”

“We are not going to line-dancing class tonight,” Charlie said.

“Why not?”

“Because we almost died today!”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “But we didn’t. And it’s not as easy to find line-dancing classes around here as it should be.”

I waited for Charlie to capitulate. But he didn’t.

So I added, “And it starts in an hour, so we probably should have left already.”

I tapped my wrist to emphasize the time pressure.

But Charlie didn’t get swept up in my momentum. He gave me a look. “I’m not going to line-dancing class,” Charlie said.

Dammit.

“Why not?” I asked. Classic tactical mistake: giving him a chance to solidify his objection.

But he didn’t take it. “Because.”

“Why are you so mad right now?”

“Because I almost killed you today!”

“That’s not my fault!”

“You’re not the person I’m mad at!”

“Look,” I said. “It’s over. We lived. Let’s celebrate and go dancing.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“What? Ever again?”

“I mean—give me a day or two.”

“But the class istonight.”

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