Page 92 of Studious
Everyone seems to recognize her, and many have usual orders. She takes her time chatting with all of them. When she gets to me, she clucks her tongue. “I’m Alice. And who are you?”
“I’m Alden,” I say, without stuttering at all. “I’m the new bookkeeper at the firm.”
“Nice to meet you, Alden. What can I get you?”
“Diet Coke?”
“You got it.”
I instantly like Alice, with how she didn’t bat an eye at me not ordering an alcoholic drink. It makes me want to come back.
We settle in, and Noah asks, “So, Alden, what do you think of the firm, now that you’ve been with us a little while?”
“I love it.”
August elbows him, and Noah scoots just out of reach. “He’s just fishing for a compliment,” August says.
“What can I say?” Noah shrugs. “I like positive feedback.”
“I can give you positive feedback,” August says. “You’re positively transparent.”
Shelby catches my eye meaningfully. He’s right. Those two need to get together.
I feel astonishingly comfortable with all these people. In high school, I went the full four years without being able to talk to anyone other than Mason. In college, I really only talked with my professors. But now I’m leaning back and listening and occasionally contributing to the conversation, and I might even be enjoying myself.
Danny’s lessons have worked.
A few Diet Cokes later, I’m lurking at the side of the dance floor. Being with Danny has convinced me that I don’t lack rhythm, despite my earlier fears. What I lacked was sufficient disregard for what other people thought of me.
Dancing makes me happy. Still, it’s disconcerting to be out and about without Danny by my side. But this is what I’m supposed to be learning—to handle being alone in public and talking with available men.
A guy is nearby, also observing the crowd. He’s reasonably handsome. He’s not swaying like he’s had too much to drink. He doesn’t smell bad, either—not like pot or cigarettes or BO.
“Hey,” he says. “My name is Robert.” I look into his eyes.
“Alden,” I respond, and shake his hand. His hand feels okay. It’s not clammy or too hot. It’s not too rough or too smooth. It’s a good size.
Huh. This is what it’s like to interact with another human being I don’t know and see if there is potential—something between us.
“Are you from around here, Alden?” he calls over the music.
“Yes. You?”
“Cool. Me, too. Do you like this bar?”
“I do. My friends come here a lot.” I see Shelby eyeing me from across the room, looking confused.
I don’t know what I’m doing. But this is practice. It’s what Danny told me to do.
I smile. “That’s who I’m here with, actually, some friends from work.”
“Want to dance?”
While all sorts of anxious thoughts run through my head—does it count if he asked me? Should I be dancing with someone else when I just want Danny?—I nod. The whole point of these lessons is for me to be brave enough to talk to nice guys.
I keep hoping Danny will show up, but I haven’t seen him so far.
Robert and I start dancing, and while I’m not really into it, I’m also internally cheering. I’m acting like a normal person, dancing with a guy in a bar. He hasn’t tried to seduce me into worshipping Loki, and I’m not making a total fool of myself.
