Page 288 of The First Time
How can he be so calm about his dad hitting him?
I force myself to hold his gaze. "How old were you?"
"Twelve."
All the breath leaves my body at once. Twelve? That's nothing. A child.
He moves towards me. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't hurt me anymore."
"Yeah, of course." I force a smile. "Thanks for telling me. I hope you're not... Well, if you want to talk, we could talk." I try to decipher the look on his face but it does me no good. "I know that talking isn't really our thing. Or your thing. You're very quiet and all. But, yeah, um... I could listen if you ever wanted to talk. And I could talk, too." My cheeks flush. "If you want."
"I appreciate that."
"Thank you for telling me. Really. You can tell me things like that, but I meant more like… a hobby or your favorite book. Something like that."
"1984."
"Really?"
He nods. "Funny, I know. My company is basically Big Brother."
"You don't have personal access to that, do you?" My cheeks flare. "You couldn't see my search histories or emails. Could you? You could, couldn't you?"
He nods. "I haven't. I won't. If I ever want to know something about you, I'll ask."
I study his expression. Inscrutable as usual. He's probably telling the truth. I don't think he lies to me.
"And you?" he asks.
"What about me?"
"What's your favorite book?"
My cheeks flush. "You'll laugh."
"Have you ever seen me laugh?"
Now, I'm the one laughing. "Come to think of it, no. Not a full-on belly laugh. I'm going to have to make more stupid jokes. Do something to get an expression on your face."
He is unblinking, as usual. This time, I'm pretty sure he's trying to mess with me.
"It's Botox, isn't it?" I ask. "The secret to your youth and your lack of expression. I bet it's Botox."
That elicits a smile. He really does have a beautiful smile. It lights up the room.
"It's a graphic novel," I say. "Ghost World. It's about these teenage girls who live in a small town. There are all these little vignettes of their lives as they start to grow up and realize their ideas about the world are wrong."
A smile. It's a full-fledged smile. It's all the way to his cheeks.
"It sounds perfect for you."
"It is. And you, um, do you like graphic novels? Or comic books? I know you're a programmer, but you've never actually mentioned anything geeky. Not even something that's really mainstream likeThe AvengersorStar Warsor something."
He stares back, unblinking.
"You don't even… Well, I guess, except for1984, I don't know much about what you like or do. Except work. And chess. You work and you play chess and you read1984." A comic book version of Blake filters through my brain. He's as built as any superhero, but his superpower is work. Every page, he's at a computer, in a business meeting, or playing chess in a new, fantastical location.
"Kat."
