Page 56 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
When Brent stands, he plops two magazines onto the table next to the iPad register. “You haven’t been into the store, so you’ve missed the last two copies of Global Lit. I got them for you.”
My mouth drops open. “You saved these for me? That’s super nice, Brent. Thanks.”
“I was going to bring them to school,” he rubs the back of his neck, “but I got the impression you didn’t want to see me.”
I cock my head. “What gave you that impression?”
“You?” He’s looking down at the magazines instead of at me. His finger traces the letters of the magazine title.
“How did I give you that impression?” I shake my head. “And when? I haven’t seen you.”
“Well, that’s part of it. But then, even though you were polite and stuff when I asked about the book, you were also pretty dismissive. “
“That’s your fault.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Not mine.”
His eyes narrow. “How’s it my fault?”
I’m not sure I have the energy to do this again. I suck air in through my nose, hold my breath a second longer than normal, and then let it out in a breathy sigh. “Brent, I have expressed interest in you twice. You have rejected me bothtimes. What do you expect from me? I can’t keep opening myself up like that.”
His expression is a mix of confusion and surprise.
I sigh again. “Come on. I was very direct both times. You couldn’t have misinterpreted me. How can you be so confused about it?”
“I didn’t reject you the second time.” He pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “But now I see why you would think that.”
I’m too incredulous to speak, so I stare at him with my mouth open. I think I’m getting the same headache he has, because I suddenly want to pinch the bridge of my nose, also.
“I never said no that second time. And I thought we’d have more opportunity to discuss it, but then you never came back in. I finally got your number from Ava, but…”
“All of this happened.” I point to my shirt again even though I just told myself to stop.
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it adorably askew. “I’m such an idiot. I didn’t realize you would assume no answer was a no answer.”
“For someone who is so well-read, you sure are a poor communicator.”
With a sad smile, he says, “My dad tells me that all the time.”
For some reason, I’m having a hard time with this information. I still feel vulnerable, and I’m worried that I won’t be able to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I want is to cry on Brent’s shoulder when I’m barely talking to him again. I make my excuse with a shaky voice. “You know, I should get back to our booth.” I pick up the magazines. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. They’re a gift.”
That’s even more confusing, but I smile. “Thanks.”
I spin on my heel and leave.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The booth trafficpicks up in the afternoon, which helps the time to pass quicker than the morning. Ines and Gayle stick around until Bek, Ava, and Dylan arrive. Ava and Bek have helped me with online comments enough, that they know what to do if someone opens up about their own experience, but Dylan is new to it, so we take a little time to explain what he can expect and how he can actively listen and how he should respond.
“We aren’t experts or trained counselors, so we don’t want to give any advice,” I say. “The most important thing is to make them feel comfortable and heard.”
Though he looks nervous, Dylan gives a thumbs up. “Will do.”
We spend as much time visiting with kids we know, who stop to say hi, as we do selling swag or talking about the organization. Even the times when no one visits the booth go by more quickly because I’m hanging out with my friends. Finally, there is only half an hour until the fair ends. I’m rubbing my backand flexing my feet in my shoes.
“Hot tub is in order tonight,” I say. “Dylan, you’re welcome to join us if you want.”
Bek groans. “That sounds great, and we weren’t here nearly as long as you.
