Page 24 of Guy's Girl
“Hold up.” Finch stands from the armchair. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”
“Um.” She moves the prongs of her fork around her bowl. “Sure?”
“Cool.”
Ginny settles onto the couch, maintaining one full foot of distance from Finch.
He picks up the remote. “Want to watch something?”
“Sure.”
“You likeNew Girl, right?”
“I do.”
“Cool.” He presses the center button on the remote, queueing up an episode from season three. For the first ten minutes, they eat quietly, laughing at all the appropriate moments. Then, during a scene in which the roommates are searching for Winston’s cat, Finch turns to Ginny and asks, “So, how’s the boss?”
“Fucking robot.”
He laughs. “Really?”
“Swear to God. I mean, don’t get me wrong—she’s absolutely amazing at what she does. She lives and breathes communications, and she runs our team like a well-oiled machine. But the woman wouldn’t know creativity if it hit her with a semi.”
“Damn.” Finch leans back in his armchair. “That must be really frustrating for someone like you.”
Ginny sets her empty bowl onto the coffee table. “How do you mean?”
“I mean—you’re creative, Gin. You always have been. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
She waves a hand, dismissing the compliment. “It’s no big deal. If anything, her lack of creativity gives me space to shine.”
“Of course it does.” He grins. “I’m serious, though. The story you wrote in Minnesota—”
“Wait.” She arches an eyebrow at him. “Clay showed that to you?”
“Of course he did. MeandTristan.”
Ginny rubs her forehead. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Why? It was good. Like, really good. You shouldn’t be wasting your time at a corporate job. You should be chasing your dream.”
“I don’t have a dream.”
“No?”
“Not really.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You can believe whatever you want. Right now, I’m focused on my career. I’m trying to learn as much about communications as I can, impress my boss, climb the ladder. You know.” She nudges his leg with her toe, the first contact they’ve had since their stilted hug when she first moved in. “Boss-girl shit.”
Finch holds up both hands. “Fair enough.”
She changes the subject, asking about med school. The longer they talk, the more they slide back into the easy rapport they had five years ago, when they used to sit on his rickety dorm bed and laugh about all the outrageous people they met at Harvard. It feels, to Ginny’s surprise, as if no time has passed at all.
The episode ends. A new episode begins. Ginny pays no attention. She is focused entirely on Finch, on his description of being in the OR for the first time.
Eventually, their conversation peters out. Ginny looks at the TV screen, but she can feel Finch’s eyes on her.
