Page 65 of Eye of the Beholder

“Right,” I say, my nervousness increasing. My eyes drift vaguely over the tile floor as I try to imagine complimenting Cohen. What would I even say?

No, not Cohen—Jack. Complimenting Jack.

“Next,” Lydia says, and I pull my eyes back to her. “Touch. Not weird touch,” she says, holding up a hand to ward off my protests. “Subtle touch. You’re not feeling him up.” She touches my arm lightly. “Something like this. See? It’s not weird, is it?”

“No,” I admit. “It seems natural.”

“Exactly,” Lydia says. “It is. It’s not too much, but it still lets him know you’re interested. If he’s interested too, that gives him something to work with.”

“And what if he’s not interested?” I say.

Lydia shrugs and scoots back her chair. She stands. “Then you’ll get over it.” She goes to the refrigerator. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” I say.

She pours a glass of juice, takes a drink, and then says, “And then just be sure to smile a lot. You don’t have to fake it, but if you like him, you’ll probably be smiling anyway. Just don’t hide it. Guys like to see that they make you smile. Oh,” she says, “and ask a guy about himself. People love to talk about themselves. Got it all?”

The honest answer is no, but I’m not about to say that. And I’ve got most of it; it’s confidence more than anything that I’m lacking. And I figure I can just fake that. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, as per Cohen’s instructions.

“I think so,” I say instead, tapping my hands nervously on the table in front of me.

“Great,” Lydia says with a nod. “Let’s practice.”

“I’m not sure I can flirt with you,” I say, frowning slightly.

Lydia waves this away with a casual hand. “No, not me. Cohen. Cohen!” she calls loudly before I can protest.

Then she looks at me. “What do you like about Cohen?”

I smile. There are a lot of things.

“I don’t know,” I say instead.

“Well, do you think he’s cute?” Lydia says, sounding like a patient kindergarten teacher.

I really do. “Yeah.”

“Great. What do you think is cute? What do you find attractive?”

Confidence. Sense of humor. Eyes. Jaw. Hair. Muscles.

“I don’t know,” I say.

Lydia gives a long-suffering sigh. “Work with me, Mina. I’m not going to tell him what you say, and it’s not weird for me to hear even though I’m his sister.” She smiles slightly. “What do you think is cute? You need a good compliment.”

“He has nice eyes,” I say, giving in. “And he’s confident. And I sort of want to just touch his jaw.”

Lydia’s mouth quirks. “Given it some thought?” she says, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“I guess I have,” I say, frowning.

It feels sort of strange, confiding in someone like this. I talk to my mom and sisters about boys sometimes, I guess, but other than that it’s not really something I’ve ever done. It’s a good feeling.

“Great,” she says, smiling at me. “So pick one of those. Cohen!” she calls again, more loudly this time. “Come here!”

I hear the distant sound of his answering shout, and a shot of nerves spikes through me. “I don’t know that I can just flirt on command, Lydia. And he’s going to make that stupid smirk face at me.”

“The smug one,” Lydia says, nodding. “Yeah, I know. But you need to practice on someone. Come here, Cohen.”

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