Page 67 of My Cosplay Escape
I might be preening. Somewhere inside, I’m definitely purring. “Okay. You’re me. Lecture ended twenty minutes early, which means you’ve got fifteen minutes to knock out an essay before you have to catch your Lyft to work—”
“Where I run a drop-in preschool on the sly for no additional fees. Do the children worship me? I mean, of course they do. Why else are they trying to make my art board?”
I want to touch him. Poke him. Give him a playful jostle, but he’s driving, and I’m not fourteen. “You walk into a room with ninety-six computers. Twelve rows of eight. Where do you sit?”
“The back corner. As far away from the entrance as possible.”
“Except I’m a weirdo who’s going to fight you for it.” I lean as far as I can into Adam’s personal space while still wearing my seat belt. Maybe I am fourteen after all. “Now what are you going to do?”
Adam leans as far as he can away from me.
I strain against my seat belt to lean that much closer.
“Corners are dangerous. You run out of space quick. And this weirdo is the perfect mix of brooding and unaware to edge you out until you have no choice but to leave the lab altogether.”
Adam laughs. “Okay, fine. Toward the front. Facing the door.”
“Trying to keep a lookout?”
“Yeah. Avoid the weirdos.”
“Distracting position to be in. You look up every time someone new walks in. How’s the essay coming?”
“What essay?”
I pounce. “Exactly!” And Adam is laughing again. “You’re not getting any work done. And then—”
“Then?”
“Then you make the mistake of catching the eye of someone like me. And now I’m chatting you up.” I make a bro face—pursed lips, squinty eyes, slow head bob. “Hey, girl. I saw you look this way.” I dramatically pause. “Do we know each other?”
“No.”
“But you’d like to?”
“No.”
“How dare you use me as a piece of eye candy and not swallow me whole? I’m going to sit here at this computer right next to yours, aggressively clicking my mouse and smacking the keyboard and making not-so-subtle noises of disgust until you have no choice but to pack up your stuff.”
“That hasn’t happened.”
I raise my eyebrows and stifle a giggle. “You want to try your luck at another computer?”
“K. I’ll sit with my back to the door somewhere in the middle.”
“Big mistake,” I say with mock sincerity. “Hey. Hey.” I tap Adam on the shoulder. “Can I borrow a pen?”
“No.”
“Pencil?”
“No.”
“A dollar for the vending machine?”
“You’re kidding.”
“I had my eye on a crusty blueberry muffin. I’ll pay you back. Yeah, in fact, I promise to pay you back the next time I see you.” I want to reach over and grab Adam’s shirt and twist it in my hands.
