Page 56 of Nerdplay
As Manny fires off the first question, Charlie leans forward and scrutinizes my face to the point where I’m worried he’s noticed a zit that hasn’t surfaced yet.
“What is it, Mr. Thorpe? Does my face tell you I know the answer?”
He leans back, continuing to study me with an intensity that makes my head buzz, or maybe that’s the alcohol.
“No,” he finally says.
“Aha! You can’t read my face.” I jot down the answer.
“Just because you’re confident doesn’t mean you’re right,” Charlie whispers, and his mouth is so close to my earlobe that it sends an involuntary shiver through me.
“You seem chilly,” Charlie says. “Maybe you should wear a long-sleeved shirt next time.”
“You’re hilarious.” Then it’s my turn to laugh when the answers are announced and mine is correct.
I raise my empty glass. “Victory never tasted so sweet.”
He touches his forehead. “This washes off, right?”
“I’m sure it will … eventually.” I lean forward so that my nose is close to his. He somehow manages to smell minty fresh in the midst of all this stale beer and smoke. “What are you feeling right now?”
His blue-green eyes meet mine. “Drunk.”
“That’s not a feeling,”
“I beg to differ. Have you ever suffered from bed spins?”
I pull back to regard him. “I’m talking about emotions, Chickie. How do you feel right now?”
He shrugs.
I sigh. “Angry? Sad? Disappointed?”
“None of those things.”
“That’s good at least.”
Laura raps on the table between us. “Pay attention, you two. The final category is Geography.”
I’m mildly disappointed. I was hoping for sports so we could make better use of Charlie.
Ben leans forward. “Remember, we only need three correct answers to win.”
Laura grimaces. “I’ll have to defer to the rest of you. I’ve always struggled with geography. The best I can do is the seven continents.”
I look at Ben. “You know country flags, right?”
He nods. “And the oceans.”
Charlie gives a dramatic clearing of his throat. “This might be my time to sparkle.”
“In that case, I should’ve used Angela’s marker. Theirs has glitter.”
The first two questions stump us, but Charlie seems fairly confident in his answers, so we stick with them. He jots down answers to the remaining questions without hesitation, although his penmanship is dubious at this point.
“You’re sure?” I ask.
He caps the Sharpie as a sleepy grin overtakes his face. “Care to wager?”
