Page 59 of Flipping His Script
Looking less than enthused, he said, "When I’m ready to talk, you'll know."
Well, that was nice.And I seriously didn't get it.What was the point of coming here if he wasn't going to act friendly?
Going for a joke, I said, "So you're no kind of actor, huh?"
"No. I'm not."
I wanted to scream in frustration. "That was a joke."
"Not if you've got to explain it."
"All right, fine," I said. "But don't you want to know what I meant?"
"Does it matter?"
"What doesthatmean?" I asked.
"I mean you're gonna tell me regardless." He made a forwarding motion with his hand. "So go ahead, get it over with."
I stared across the table. "Jeez, would it kill you to be nice once in a while?"
"To you?" He gave it some thought. "Maybe."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Oh, please. It wouldn't even maim you, and you know it." I smiled. "Andthatwas a joke, too, in case you didn't get it."
"Don't worry," he said with no trace of humor. "I got it."
Once again, I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "I'm just saying, if we're supposed to be friends, ormorethan friends, youwouldn'tjust sit there, glowering at me."
"If I were glowering, you'd know it."
Okay, this was probably true. After all, hedidhave a famously impressive glower.
Still, I replied, "Okay, but you might actually smile once in a while. You might even carry on a regular conversation."
"We've been talking plenty."
I had to scoff. "Insulting me doesn't count."
His voice was flat. "Insulting you."
"Sure, you've been insulting me for days."
"Yeah." His mouth tightened. "Days. Not months. Some might say you got off light."
Heat flooded my face. I knew what he meant, and he did have a point. I tried to put myself in his shoes. What if he accusedmeof something that I didn't do? And what if that accusation had cost me a year of my life?
I'd probably do more than insult him, that's for sure.
But with Flynn, I'd already tried my best to explain, not that he'd listened.
That was how long ago?
Nine years?
Maybe it was time for another try.
After Joyce delivered drinks to each of us – coffee for me and juice for Flynn – I looked to Flynn and deliberately softened my tone. "Look, I know that things between us are complicated, and I don't blame you if you're still angry, but–"
